weekend update

One of my more ambitious housemates decided that it would be a good idea to host Thanksgiving in our Kampala-home this year, so on Thursday my roommates and I ventured out to the markets to find live chickens. I have wanted to experience this for a while, and Thanksgiving seemed like an opportune time. We went to Nakawa market, a large market near where we stay in Kampala. This market has sections for used clothing, children’s toys, household items, fruit and vegetables, and, of course, poultry. The poultry section smelled foul (no pun intended) and had hundreds, perhaps thousands of chickens all caged up. It was a far cry from humane, but if the descriptions I hear of US factory farms are correct, these chickens actually had it quite good. We began bargaining with the salesman who eventually agreed to sell us two live chickens (‘medium’ sized) for 30,000UGX (about $12) including the slaughter and cleaning. 

It was a disturbing experience, but I think an important one.  It is amazing how disconnected Americans are from their food.  I didn't like choosing a chicken to be killed (and no, I did not opt to watch its death). It is much more comfortable to buy a chicken at the grocery store.  It's easier.  But it's good to be reminded of the reality.  Most people don't have the privilege of eating vegetarian, but I do... and I am thinking it's time to go back to it.  

The rest of Thanksgiving Day I helped a bit in the kitchen (I was in charge of cooking the carrots and the mashed potatoes), but mostly I stayed clear. I am really good at watching people cook! I also coordinated the Thanksgiving art project, making sure every dinner guest had their hand traced and then decorated their hand-turkey (think elementary school crafts). The menu was impressive: two chickens that were alive hours earlier, a delicious sweet potato casserole, garlic mashed potatoes, green beans, honey glazed carrots, stuffing, and of course cranberry sauce—my personal favorite. For dessert there was pumpkin cake (made of real pumpkin), apple pie, and chocolate chip cookies. It was a delicious meal and I was so happy to spend it with my Kampala family. Earlier in the week I made an apple pie (with the help of a more talented housemate) for my coworkers. While they didn’t love the pie (it was too sweet for them) I was thankful that I had the opportunity to share it with them. I am really thankful that I am here in Uganda, having this experience, but my roommate and I did have a moment of honesty: truly, we are thankful to be American with all the privileges that identity comes with.

[Aside: One of my coworkers asked me if I had to send an invitation through the embassy for my mom to visit Uganda.  No, I explained, Americans traveling to Uganda--and most countries--merely need to buy a ticket and deal with quick visa forms at the airport.  We rarely fear that we won't be welcomed in to a country based on our nationality.  This is not the case for most nationalities, and the freedom to travel is one of many un-earned privileges that I have as an American.]

The next morning 3 housemates and I went off to the Ssese Islands. The Ssese Islands are about 3.5 hours off the coast of Entebbe in Lake Victoria. The islands are pretty off the beaten track, with only one ferry reaching there per day. Getting to Entebbe is a bit of an ordeal (it always takes longer than the 1 hour it should!), but the boat ride was a lot of fun. My friends and I played games, read, and watched the water go by. When we got to the island (Bugala Island) we had to walk through the village to get to our hotel.  There, we spotted lots of adorable children, and even a donkey!  We checked in at our hotel and promptly found our way to the beach! It was so gorgeous and we made it just in time for the sunset. Unfortunately, Lake Victoria is home to many parasites, so swimming was not an option. We played some Uno by a bonfire, had dinner, and went to sleep.

On Saturday we woke up and were pleased that the weather was warm! We ate our breakfast and then went on a hike/walk through a forest area to the town of Kalangala. While most of the hotels are located on the ocean near the boat dock, the town itself is located up a giant hill. The walk was beautiful though, and it was fun to see another Uganda town (most of them look pretty much the same—one commercial street with store fronts painted advertising various brands). Once we made our way back to the beach we relaxed a bit and then opted for a canoe ride around the island. We didn’t get very far in the canoe, but it was still really enjoyable.  It was also fun to try to get in and out of the canoe without touching the parasite-ridden water (I was unsuccessful!) (I have been told that even one toe in Lake Victoria could put you at risk for Schistosomiasis--not fun!)

When we got back to dry land, we relaxed a bit more before heading to a barbeque at a nearby hotel. The barbeque was really fun and the food was great. When we left, we had to walk home on the dark beach—it was a little scary and the bugs were out in full force.  The stars were so beautiful though, and such a treat as they can't usually be seen in the lights and pollution of Kampala. 

Sunday morning we packed our things and headed for the ferry back to Kampala. The 3.5 hours went more quickly this time--especially because there was a cross-dressing singer to entertain us on the boat (the fact that this was happening in Uganda, one of the most homophobic and strict gender role countries I have ever been to, was especially curious!)  I think people enjoyed it/tolerated it because of how outlandish it was. A person who actually has a non-traditional gender identity would, unfortunately, not be accepted here.   

It was such a wonderful weekend, and now back to the Kampala grind for one more week before heading on to vacation with my mom! I am so excited for her to come so I can show her all the wonderful things about Uganda.  

Scenes

View outside my house on a foggy morning:

Women in Bushenyi participating in a leadership workshop:

My female coworkers enjoying some handmade jewelry:

guide me home

Last week I had several opportunities to act as a guide for the the executive director of the organization I work for. The executive director is blind and her normal guide was out of the office. I seemed like a good enough substitute.

My executive director and I were requested at a meeting just outside the city and getting there would require two taxis and a quick walk through the middle of town.  I was not prepared for the role of a guide through the chaotic streets of Kampala.  Walking with my executive director through town was one of the scariest experiences of my life. When I am only responsible for my own body, I often get hit by slow moving cars or trip on hopelessly uneven sidewalks. I have had near-death experiences with potholes as deep as my shoulders, and falling is a daily experience for me. Leading myself and another person who could not see through the mess that is a Kampala traffic jam was terrifying, but I did my best.

Poetically, while I had the ability to see, my executive director was the one with the true vision. She surprised me in her complete competence: her ability to deal with Kampala, a place that is not exactly accommodating to someone with special needs. When we were on the taxi she would point out various landmarks that she sensed. She knew where to get off the taxi, and she knew the directions through town. I may have had sight, but she had vision. Without her, I never would have made it to that meeting. Without me, she also would have been stuck. In that moment we became allies.  Although I have been working in the disability movement here in Uganda for 5 months, it took this experience to show me how truly disabling the environment can be.  

When we arrived at the meeting, I was faced with the usual round of questioning: where are you from? how long are you here? what do you do? how do you like Uganda?  and the now-dreaded, when are you leaving?

I am leaving next month, I said. My questioner disapproved and did not hesitate to tell me so, but my executive director came to my defense.

"Marta will be back to Africa," she said. "Yes, she will be back in a big way."

I have often felt guilty about the short amount of time I am spending here.  Six months is insignificant, and sometimes it makes me feel like I might be the same as every other do-gooding foreigner with no real understanding of what development is, or the long-term concerted and strategic effort that it takes.  But I know I can't stay here right now (for so many reasons) and getting my executive director's vote of confidence and "consent" to go home meant more to me than I can articulate.

Reproductive Health in Uganda

Two weeks ago I attended a training workshop on reproductive health for university women.  I sat in the back and helped register participants, making a conscious decision to be an observer.  I wanted to see how reproductive health information was conveyed in this very unique context.  I have thought a lot about this workshop over the last couple weeks, trying to determine the best way to talk about it.  I can't give an objective overview (I think you all know that I am far too opinionated for objectivity), so instead I will give my overall impressions of sexual and reproductive health in Uganda (biased, of course).

1. Women should be sexless.  I have tried very hard over the past several months to understand this better, but I am afraid my explanations are a bit convoluted.  The messages I hear about women's health have an undertone of sterility.  Men want sex, women tolerate it.  Women have to learn about their reproductive health in order so that one day they might produce babies (and lots of them), but sexuality and desire is for men.  Outright displays of sexuality make women "prostitutes."

2. Men are held to the lowest possible standard.  I can't count the number of times I have heard that "all Ugandan men cheat."  I don't know whether it is true or not, but the explanation about why men cheat is really disturbing.  Apparently, men's sexuality is so strong and powerful, that it cannot be satisfied by one woman. Ever. (and on the same note, a woman's sexuality is so weak that it could never match a man's, and if it does, there is something wrong with that woman).  Relationships are socially constructed, and people will always meet your (low) expectations.  Cheating is normalized and it is not uncommon to hear tales of wives meeting their husbands "other" families for the first time at funerals.  

3. Religion remains a paradox.  I have also heard that the only solution to "cheating" is for men to become born again Christians.  While people are quick to preach purity and fidelity in a Christian context, the reality is that teen and out-of-marriage pregnancy in Uganda is extremely common and even culturally accepted.  Uganda is an extremely religious society (thanks, missionaries), but when it comes to reproductive health and sexuality, there seems to be a lot of contradiction.  Chemical birth control may be out of the question for religious reasons, but sex outside of marriage is not. 

4. Women are blamed.  Because men have an insatiable sexual appetite, they are washed of all responsibility when it comes to the consequences of sex.  Women are blamed for unwanted/unplanned pregnancies.  Women are blamed for rape: "if you walk at night, what can you expect?"; "don't be alone with a man because they only have one idea."; "if you wear clothing that is short and tight, then you are asking for it."  (Oh yes, these are real examples).  Women are stripped of sexual agency while at the same time responsible for "controlling" the sexuality of men. 

5. Don't have sex, but if you do... Children are very much cherished in Uganda, and having children is seen as one of the most important duties of women (this is probably why while Christianity has made pregnancy out of marriage slightly taboo, it has failed to succeed at making it that bad).  Abortion is seen as shameful, consequence-ridden (medically and morally), and 'bad-for-Uganda.'  "Children are our future, so if you do fall pregnant, do not have an abortion.  Keep all your children."  Women are expected to bare children no matter what-- hence why the average woman in Uganda gives birth to between 6 and 7 babies in a lifetime (second highest birth rate in the world).  

Reproductive health in Uganda is seen as a woman's responsibility, and yet any agency that might help a woman take control of reproductive and sexual decision making is completely undermined.  Religion enforces cultural and social paternalism, and women are left with only a superficial voice.  Certainly these issues are not uniquely Ugandan... in fact, I think they mirror a lot of the issues faced in the US, especially in regards to anti-choice, conservative politics.  In the end women everywhere are faced with lots of responsibility and little power.  Talk about unfair. 

look harder

I had a little reality check this morning: I am leaving Uganda in less than 7 weeks. I am done with work in less than 4 weeks. This is coming to an end and I'm not even sure when it started. When did I arrive? In some ways, I think I arrive more and more everyday.

Before I got here my picture of Uganda was extremely vague. I outlined the borders of Uganda in my head and imagined what might be inside. I didn't anticipate the ways that this geography would become a part of me.  Kampala is obnoxious, dirty, foreign, beautiful, diverse, crowded, chaotic, and about 100 other adjectives that will tell you nothing about the true character of this place.  Kampala is a living, breathing organism.  When I map Kampala in my head I see the taxi circuit, going round and round. The streets of Kampala like an artery... clogging and unclogging, jamming and unjamming.  

The people I have gotten to know in Uganda are spectacular, but far more complex and multi-dimensional than could ever be captured in a blog. They are, in all fundamental ways, the same as you and me. People don't think of themselves in terms of what they lack, and if you go to a developing country and only see poverty, than you haven't looked hard enough. 

I implore you: look harder.  I'm glad I did.  

human rights

I recently sat in on a meeting where a human rights scholar from Europe was trying to gather information about human rights education in Uganda. She encouraged my organization to teach human rights at an organizational level, as well as to our beneficiaries (i.e.: poor, semi-isolated disabled women and their families). My first reaction to this concept was disbelief. I couldn’t believe that this educated woman from one of Europe’s richest countries was telling me that a development priority should be teaching women about human rights. Human rights that will never be granted to them and that will never be realized in their own lives. I couldn’t fathom the purpose of spending valuable time and resources teaching people about rights that their government will never protect, all the while women are dying during childbirth, living well below the international poverty line, dying of curable diseases, and can’t afford to educate their children. I was kind of upset. I understand that human rights are important (heck, I think they are great), but I can’t help but think this is an exercise in utter futility. The UN commissions and reports are great standards and they can help instill political will (at their best), but they are not legally binding, and the UN is not a rights-granter. The UN won’t be going down to small villages in Uganda to make sure that women are granted their human rights any time soon.

Human rights are only relevant so far as someone is there to enforce them. It’s great to say that you have a right to health care, but unless you live in a country that is fiercely committed (politically and financially) to upholding that right, you really have nothing of the sort. I surely believe that women have the right to proper maternal health care that minimizes their risk of death or injury, but unless the state of Uganda is committed to that goal and outcome, the women of Uganda have nothing.

Teaching people the pillars of the CRC (commission on the rights of the child), CEDAW (the convention to end all forms of discrimination against women), and the CRDP (convention on the rights of persons with disabilities) won’t magically empower them to claim their rights, nor will it strong-arm the state into granting/upholding rights. Teaching about human rights is a great exercise for advocacy purposes, but beyond that I fail to see the point. If you teach women about human rights, but fail to instill any sort of self-efficacy or empowerment about claiming those rights, what has been accomplished? And sadly, most people have no ability to claim their human rights at all, especially within the context of a government that can’t and won’t dedicate resources where they are most needed.  

People who disagree with me might say that a society that knows their rights is better equipped to hold the government accountable for providing them.  I get that, but pragmatically, it's shallow.  At a national level advocates and civil society should definitely be well-versed in human rights for those purposes.  But what's the point of making human rights education a priority for people who literally have no access at all to the laws and justice system of this country, let alone the non-legally binding laws of some international body.

There are plenty of noble and interesting development goals; I’m just not convinced that human rights education at the grassroots level is one of them.  Maybe it's just another thing that makes donor countries feel good, but that's not good enough.  Not even close.