Being Lost

Words seem to fail me each time I attempt to describe returning to Uganda. I’d been dreaming of this time since my departure last year in July.

My dreams have come true as you can see. And with that, I recognize what a privilege it is to be able to travel back to Uganda. Reflecting on this opportunity, I realize that having the means, freedom and desire to travel is something that many people take for granted. In years past, a few of my Ugandan friends have applied for U.S. visas and not only have they been denied, but they have been subject to severe interrogative interviews. These individuals have personally been invited by my the Jazz for Justice Project to participate in music and art workshops and lectures on how these art forms are helping to establish peace and mitigate conflict in northern Uganda. However, questions such as “what makes you so special?” and “why do they want you to come over” are routine, making the process extremely intimidating and dehumanizing.

For me, I sent in my application and money and waited for my passport to come in the mail. When I arrived in Uganda I filled out a visitor’s card and paid 50 USD to have my passport stamped with a Ugandan visa. That was it. Each time I travel internationally, I remind myself that in every corner of the world, a person’s place of birth and economic status is the determining factor that will open or close the door to the right to travel freely and unimpeded.

With this in mind, I embarked on my second journey to Gulu in northern Uganda where I’m greeted by the common saying “you are lost!” … meaning you have been gone for enough time for people to take notice. So I’ve been lost for a year now, but I’m delighted that I have found my way back to a missing piece of my heart.

Uganda is incredibly beautiful with a rich cultural history stemming from its 56 linguistic groups and their specific ethnic identities. Notable groups such as the Banyoro, Iteso, Langi, Acholi, Baganda, and Karimojong inhabit the lands of this country known as the “Pearl of Africa.” My knowledge of the country’s history pre-colonial, during colonialism and after independence has deepened as my research continues on peace education in northern Uganda and as I meet various political, community, and religious leaders and actors. The saying “the more I see the less I know” remains true as I take this history and work through my understanding of concepts such as justice, reconciliation, peace, human rights, traditional culture and modernity.

I’ve been here now over a week now and I still can’t put into words how wonderful it feels to be back. Each morning I wake up with a smiling heart because I have one more day to be in Uganda. My joy is only overshadowed by seeing the joy on the faces of the students that have joined me this time around. We are here piloting our university’s first study and service learning program in East Africa: The Gulu Study and Service Abroad Program or GSSAP! (see my next post for information on GSSAP).
I hope to share my new reflections here on "Now She is Rising", but also on gssap.blogspot.com pulling together the themes listed above with the reality on the ground.

Please stay tuned to watch this amazing program grow and the impact it will have not only on UT students, but the northern Ugandan community that has welcomed (yet another) group of foreigners. We remain committed to exploring very deep topics with our colleagues and friends all across Uganda who are participating and working with us.

It’s extraordinary that I find myself back here in Gulu to implement this new study abroad program and to continue my research on peace education. Each time I venture out in Gulu town I meet an old acquaintance or friend who reminds me that I’ve been lost … but with every hug, smile, handshake I know that I am found.

Field Visits!

Since the second term started on May 24th for schools in Uganda, I’ve been able to progress with my field work on Peace Education. With four secondary and four primary schools in my case study covering 3 districts, let’s just say I’ve been doing some moving around. I have a week and a half of field visits left and then the tedious task of gathering all my data into a report begins.

So just to give you an idea of what I experience on a daily basis … pictures!

Pece P7 Friday Assembly

Peace Education Instructor at Police Primary

Pupil writing down her lesson during a Peace Education Class


Sign at Police Primary

Police Primary School Vision

Pupils at Pece P7 who participated in my research & their teacher Santa

Gulu Primary Guidance and Counseling Room

Gulu Primary

Students at Gulu Primary

Peace Education Class at Gulu Primary

Gulu High School Peace Club (2 pictures)

3 young men walking around GHS

Student standing in front of Gulu College

Home, Are We Limited to One?

SO, It finally happened … I thought it never would … because I’m just not that person … I’m not that person who gets homesick.

However about 2 ½ - 3 weeks ago I realized that I was. I know it may be strange that I remember the time my homesickness came, but to be honest I’m surprised that it came at all.

You see, I really seldom get homesick. My immediate family is not extremely close, but we are not distant- we love each other, but we don’t hover- we worry about each other, but we may not express it every time we feel it-

As for my extend family: my Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Grandparents and best friends- They are all proud of me. Their well wishes and blessings have kept me so, that I’ve never been able to become too homesick.

Even in my 1 ½ years of staying on campus at UT, I was never the student who just couldn’t wait for break. It just didn’t hold the same appeal. I may have been excited about getting a break from school work, but never about just going home.

Actually during my first semester at UT, I stayed on campus for Fall Break. While everyone pilled into cars and headed home for the 3-day break, I refused to go. I had school work to do and it was just 3 days. I didn’t understand the hype. I knew traveling back to Memphis would distract me from work so a friend and I decided to tough it out and stay on campus … It was like a ghost town. I didn’t quite understand why people just had to leave.

However, I think I’m starting to get it now.

While I’m able to hold out much longer, others are not as “tolerant” of being away from home. But I think I may have found my limit- and it has nothing to do with the length of time- nothing to do with being in a foreign country …

But it’s the feeling of not being able to travel back home when you have the urge to see family and friends. To be able to travel back to a much familiar space and time- to be in the environment that you grew up in

If I were living in Uganda and could fly back home at any moment’s notice then I don’t think I would have gotten to this point- to feeling like this. But since I was suppose to leave in May and pushed my date of departure back to July I had gotten used to anticipating that I was leaving in May. Well, May has come and gone and my subconscious took notice.

I remember saying to myself one day, “Man, I just want to go home!” but I felt guilty right after thinking those words. All the wonderful experiences I’ve had here, all the growth- the knowledge I’ve gained. All the people who’ve touched me, their stories and hopes- the places I’ve seen … the things that put me in awe of this beautiful country … I hated that I had ever thought such words. To just want to go home-

I shared these same feelings with a very astute woman and she told me straightforwardly that it happens to all of us-

That simple- It happens to us all- even me.

The words of my mentor, Dr. Rosalind Hackett reminded me that it wasn’t me wanting to leave Uganda, but me wanting to just be home … at least for a little while!

Right now, the feeling of being homesick retreats and comes back like a tide. It hits me in waves. Whether it stems out of an email from my mom that makes me want to just run across the ocean to see her or a silly/sincere message from a best friend on facebook or a small reminder in my day that makes me have a flashback of home- but when the feeling comes my heartaches and a wave crashes upon my shore.

Absence does make the heart grow fonder- apparently in my case.

I am truly thankful to God for the truth of this statement though. Through this journey and separation, my mother and I have become closer. She still tries to overprotect me and she worries entirely too much, but the “I love yous” and “I miss yous” are exchanged on a regular between us. There’s a hint of new openness between us too. It’s nice and I hope it lasts. To be honest my journey to Uganda has brought my entire family a bit closer. OH the unexpected consequences, well let’s call them gifts, of researching and living in Uganda! I would have never thought!
…

They say:

“Home is where the heart is” – As my mentor reminded me
“Home is wherever your key can actually open the door” – a friend once claimed
“Wherever he laid his hat was his home” - The Temptations

All of these statements hold some truth to them so I’m challenging this notion of what home is. Is it where your family is? Is it where your friends are? Your work? Your job? Your school? Where your possessions are? … now, that’s something to think about.

Where is home for you? Are you really just limited to one place? … Oh, I sure hope not!
For me, my arms are open to the world- especially to all the places I’ve yet to go! Where my travels lead me- where a piece of my heart stays will be home. And when I’m away from one of my homes for too long I won’t shy away, but expect my homesickness to remind me that I don’t want to leave where I’m at because I’m tired of being there, but that a piece of me somewhere else would like a chance to be reclaimed … at least for a little while :)

“For heaven’s sakes are you condemning a whole generation in the Acholi sub-region to being carpenters and tailors?”

That statement hit me hard. It’s like the aftershock of when you try and open a door that you absolutely know is “open” and with all confidence you grab the knob and push with your whole body just to find that you’ve slammed your face into the door because it is in fact, very much “locked” … It hit me like that.

I was in a meeting with the director of a community-based organization in Gulu who shared with me some very eye opening information and more on the harsh reality of the educational situation in northern Uganda.

When researching, you sometimes get to a point in which you can predict what a participant might say and what your results may look like. You think you know everything there is to know about your particular subject. And for me, I felt as if the majority of the people I was working with shared the same sentiments as I did about the power of community and local initiatives. In general they do, but I’ve finally found the gray area.

Right now, the gray area includes finding out that one of the local organizations that is a part of my study has been speculated of being guilty of nepotism and mismanagement of funds leading to loss of a donor and funding. As much as I believe in community I was faced with another “locked door” situation. But I wanted to address this first before getting into the topic of this post. I’m learning that there may be no formula to running a successful program/initiative- whether run by locals, foreigners, expatriates, a mixture- Locals may understand the situation better, but you find that outsiders grasp that much as well. There is still power in community and local initiatives, but I have learned not to discount those that are not.

I am grateful though. The learning never ends so I am keeping my mind, heart and more importantly EARS open.

…

Talking with the director, some very interesting information came up. He said: “Today most of the interventions are people [the youth] being trained in vocational skills and what are we talking about- carpentry, tailoring, bricklaying and concrete laying”

It doesn’t sound “bad” at first does it? To give the hope of a better future through vocation to thousands of Acholi and Langi youth who don’t have the opportunity to continue their formal education. But as I’ve learned, these vocational skills programs discriminately outnumber those providing scholarships for secondary education and disproportionally outnumber programs for university sponsorship.

So what are we looking at here? … Exactly what is being suggested- The northern community of Uganda will not be able to compete on the same level as the rest of Uganda- especially with central. The Acholi and Langi continue to remain marginalized in accessing meaningful education. When local/national political and civil positions become available who will be qualified to run for them? The carpenters and bricklayers of the north?

I would take the time to discuss the UPE an USE (universal primary/secondary education) but we all know that these two governmental initiatives to aid education in the north are “free in theory” so I shall not misuse time and talk about it.

BUT

I believe that this wouldn’t be such a dire situation if there were more scholarship programs for tertiary education and if access to all levels of education was higher in this region. Yes, things take time and reconstruction is a tedious and extensive process, but it does not mean that the best solution is to settle.

In a way everyone is caught up. Donors don’t like to fund projects that they cannot immediately see the results for. Many NGOs and CBOs receive funding for 1, 2 years and after they must search or renew for that same funding. So there is a real struggle to secure funding for 6-8 years. But with education, “long-term” funding is the name of the game. What we are seeing is organizations and initiatives catering more towards these vocational programs because they will receive funding for them AND in 1 or 2 years donors see results.

A friend put it this way: “Sponsorships don’t pay off in the short-term. You keep sending children to school, but it takes years to realize what the pay-off has been and many donors are not that patient … yet if you are really to make a long-lasting intervention that is the way to go; you’ve got to make for posterity, you’ve got to cater to the future of this region.”

This is creating a lack of human resource in northern Uganda in fields such as medicine, law, administration, politics and among all things education! I would love to see many more youth from the north be able to compete and compete favorably with their counterparts in the rest of the country. After all that has happened in and to this region and people- the bureaucracy of aid is hindering true growth …

So the question still remains “Are we condemning a whole generation in the Acholi sub-region to being carpenters and tailors?”

Comments are welcomed.

One Day I'll Wake Up

This is not a dream. This is not a dream. This is not a dream. This is my life.

Have you ever had to tell yourself that? In good situations and in bad- that what is happening around you is actually real.

Well I’m saying it now, but for me it’s the good kind of realization. And for that I am grateful
If you’ve been reading then you know I’m living in northern Uganda- Gulu to be exact. This journey started in January and sadly it is coming to an end soon. And by soon I mean mid-July.

I looked at the calendar today and I have a little less than 8 weeks … see I know what you’re saying, “8 weeks? That’s a really long time” … and my reply would be along the lines of, “not when you’ve been here for months” … “and not when you can’t even count how many things you’ll miss between the time you leave and the time you return”

…

I ate dinner alone tonight. I met up with the crew (Erin, Dustyn, Rachel, Whitney and friends Jeff and Sam) for dinner at a traditional foot spot called Tofique- But I left to eat at Mealtime because Tofique was finished with a lot of the dishes I actually eat.

Which leads me to tell you some of the things I will miss the most:

Malakwang and sweet potatoes! traditional beans and rice, rolex, chapatti and motoke, roasted corn, the chicken. Oh the FRUIT: bananas, pineapple, mangos and apples. Yes, I can get these fruits in the States but they taste so much better here :)

I’ll miss the Gulu market, the evening sunsets, the neighbors children running up to touch my hand and occasionally walk me to the road.

I’ll miss the stars because you can see them so well versus back in Knoxville or Memphis. I’ll miss the moon which lighted the sometimes difficult path back to our house at night.

I’ll miss the landscape … the beautiful beautiful landscape. The majesty of the Nile, the vibrant green hills.

I’ll miss riding on bodas

I’ll miss traveling … to the village, to Kampala to Kitgum. I’ll miss the fresh air outside of town. I’ll miss the people- all the people I’ve met and their stories.

I’ll miss, I’ll miss, I’ll miss and keep missing until I return

However, things I will not miss: the bad roads (but I’m sure every Ugandan would say the same thing), the jeering men & extreme change in weather (hot or rainy- take your pick)
…

So as I walked back to our apartment from dinner at Mealtime I told myself, “this is quite in fact a dream- a very vivid dream” and I congratulated my conscience for crafting such a detailed and magnificent dream. The walk home made me think about how much I’ll miss the cool night and the breeze as well.

I know that for about 8 more weeks I’ll get to wake up here in my second home. A place that is so real that I think it’s a dream sometimes.

For months now, I’ve been planning how and when I’ll be coming back. I'm hoping next summer. Because I know that one day I’ll wake up …

and I won’t be in Uganda anymore.

“Really All The Students Have Been Affected …

they may not have been abducted themselves, but maybe their parents were abducted. Or simply they were all forced to live in a camp. So in one way or another all the children have been abducted. All of them have something to say about peace and the need for peace”
-Educationalist for the Pincer Group International Limited.

Living is Gulu sometimes it’s hard to believe that northern Uganda was once a war-zone- The site of brutal killings and rape, mass murders and child abductions. I wish I didn’t have to start this post by recounting what was, but it’s important to note that these things did occur- That they happened and the people affected are the people I meet and talk with everyday …

Like I said it’s sometimes hard to believe. Even when I travel to districts and regions such as Amuru, Pabbo and Kitgum I know that these roads were once dangerous and impassable. Remnants of the war come in different forms: a destroyed school building here, a IDP camp there, from the physically disable who you see on a weekly basis to the mentally disturbed people moving about with no clear direction … it comes and goes through your mind and you remember the history, the stories, the lives lost and those still living with the cost of war.

I mean the “cease-fire” was in 2006 so everything is “freshly post-conflict” and yet the resilience here is inspiring and unbelievable.

But recently I was overwhelmed with what was … and sadly what still is.

I’ve been volunteering for the Acholi Education Initiative (AEI) for about a week and a half now. AEI was started in 2001 by a cross section of Acholi society in Gulu, Kampala and in the Diaspora under the auspices of the Acholi Religious Leaders Peace Initiative. Their vision is to empower war affected youth for sustainable peace and development in the country.

My first task before going out into the field was to organize and file student profiles of youth who are beneficiaries of sponsorships from the Netherlands & Irish embassy, War Child Canada and DANIDA. It seemed like an easy job. I’m not much of an office person so I was anxious to get out into the field. But as I continued removing student photos, labeling them, filing them by school name I started to notice the handwriting inside their individual folders.

Each folder contained a different style of handwriting and I discovered that they were filled out by the students themselves. There was a pattern among the files because AEI works with the most vulnerable war-affected youth (most are orphans). I scanned folder after folder in which students recounted how they lost their parents …there was malaria, AIDS and natural causes, but most of the students' parents were killed by the LRA rebels and even by the Karomojong.

For one girl, after her father was killed by the LRA her mother was murdered because her brother escaped from LRA captivity. And a young boy’s eye was removed after he attempted to escape for the first time.

No article, no report, no statistics can come close to the vivid voices of these children. Nothing can record what they themselves can write down about what happened to them and their families.

I physically felt heavy. My heart sank to my stomach. My eyes, blurry, stayed glued to the pages even though my mind instructed me to stop reading. If you were a victim of abduction there was section for that. Some were in captivity for as little as 1 week and others for as long as 1 year. These boys and girls are usually the eldest too and they all claim their younger brother and sisters as dependents.

So who is taking care of them if they are orphans? Well for those who lost one parent they are struggling with a single-parent income. And for those who lost both parents, their new caregivers range in age. But mostly they are 26 to 35 year old peasant farmers and maids and then you may have a grandparent taking care …

It was hard for me to continue filing. I had to take a few moments to breath. Their faces stuck in my mind. The eeriness of the white and black portrait shots of more than 150 students. File after file- a story to tell. It seemed like something out of a movie. But it’s the reality all around me.

The situation is dire especially since acquiring funding is extremely difficult these days. Even one of AEI’s donors has decided to withdraw their support this year citing a number of reasons, but one included that the “war is now over” … but to me, NOW is the most critical point to support CBOs like AEI. What you invest in now will set the trend for things to come since you are rebuilding from war.

These community-based and grassroots initiatives are so important to these communities and are essential to the rebuilding of the north. And I believe in community. There are so many initiatives on the brink- trying to survive on the little donations and funding that they have. They’re not yet “big names” they are not “well-established” so they get looked over for grants and funds. But I say INVEST in them! especially when there is little money to go around.

“We understand the people. It is easier to talk from the African context” – Bishop Ochola

“I’m a teacher myself and I have taught in the classroom since 2006 and I know the problems that our students here in northern Uganda are going through” -Innocent Achaye, founder of a new community initiative called Pearl Africa Education Initiative

“I told you in our selection process we involve the community members and so we have the support of the community members themselves, the local leaders and even the students are very grateful for what is going on so they are willing to cooperate with us. They are really willing. And you see here the working environment is good” – Susan Alobo, project coordinator for AEI


I am not saying that funding should be directed away from the national and foreign governmental organizations and agencies, but that there should be a preference for grassroots initiatives to the point that they don’t need to give their ideas and programs over to well-established organization and hope that it gets picked up. It’s a real struggle to see these initiatives survive off as little as 2 million UGX for 2 years and the kindness family and friends …

I hope to gather more information on this topic of CBOs in education and the power of grassroots initiatives as I further my research for my Howard H. Baker Scholar appointment in the coming weeks.

For now, I’m not sure how these initiatives will keep providing services for the community and a part of me thinks that they will not be able to in the current economic climate. But like I said, resilience is abundant here.

Acholi Dance Festival

About two weeks ago, I was invited by a friend who works for Gulu Public Primary to witness an Acholi cultural dance festival & … It was absolutely AMAZING! There were about 6-7 groups who performed almost a dozen dances with traditional costumes and instruments.

Dances included:
The Raka-Raka (for Courtship)
The Bwola (for Peace) &
The Otole (Warrior Dance- which was performed solely by elderly Women)

The festival was sponsored by The Watoto Church, Gulu Theatre Artist Company and the War Affected Youth Association.

I left with my heart full !!! Again, I will let the pictures speak for themselves