Boy, do I ever wish I had a time machine. 10 weeks seems like a lot of time at first, but its only by failing to recognize the amount of time it takes to acclimatize to a wholly different culture. Just as things get comfortable and it feels like a real bond has developed with the country-in its people, in the work, the land, the spirit of the place-it is time to begin preparing to say goodbye. The other day, sitting down with our supervisor at CRO, we realized how short our time is—despite having 3 weeks left in our practicum, we are left with only 3 working days left here. We are there 2 days a week, however there have been an abundance of public holidays landing on the days we work there, which have significantly limited our time. It took all three of us by surprise when we looked at the calendar, we all knew our time was winding down, but it feels now like a sadly abrubt ending. The unfamiliar concept of “African time,” and the repeated refrain of, “remember you are not at home,” seems to sadly ring especially true here.
Chelsea and I have both had the opportunity to accompany CRO staff to Nyendo a number of times, on both a couple of “slum walks,” and a couple of women's groups. For the slum walks, we accompanied one of the social workers on a walk around of the area to identify street kids who are connected with CRO to try and convince them to come to the centre. Often times, some children need some convincing to return. The reasons are varied, it can take time to properly connect with the children, they are also often involved in exploitative relationships on the street, and work for adults in the area. We met one child who has been on the street for over a year. The social worker explained that he has been working for a local shopkeeper who, by keeping the child in her employ, is able to leave freely throughout the day and have someone to tend the shop. Recently, the centre has had a sharp drop in attendance, because school has started again (resettled children are welcome to reconnect with CRO when school is out). We've been told that it is much quieter than just previous to the break. The reason is that it is grasshopper season and many of the children are put to work preparing and selling them. The children are rarely paid, but can be given some shelter and food in exchange for their work. The other day, one of the few girls at the centre was dozing in class, as she was up the entirety of the night helping with the grasshopper operation. I haven't yet tried one, but intend to. They are generally sold by the bag, though, and I'm not quite so anxious to try as to buy a whole bag.
Nyendo itself is somehow not quite what I expected of an African slum. The poverty is very apparent, but somehow I imagined it to somehow be more shocking or feel more grim. Although I'm sure there are shocking elements, the overall atmosphere is not much different than other areas of Uganda (that we've been to). Other than it being so stripped down, its very much a bustling place, with many shops lining the main thoroughfares. People are out of their homes washing laundry and doing their work. There is a huge marketplace, although we haven't yet been there for market day. Getting off the main artery, there are residences and stores (as in storage), made out of mud, brick, and sheets of corrugated metal bolted together. The “street,” is dirt and it feels a bit like a maze to walk through. Although not a menacing place, there are enough narrow passages and blind corners to have felt uncomfortable should we have been lacking an escort (which we wouldn't be). We mzungus are not as common a sight as in Masaka town, a fact marked by the excitement and curiosity of the children, who are very plentiful. One child we encountered was absolutely shrieking with glee at the sight of Chelsea and I, screaming, “Mzungu! Mzungu!,” in rapid succession while jumping up and down on one foot, then the other, his hand placed on the top of his head in amazement and his mouth agape. I'm sure I've already mentioned it, but the novelty of being held in such utter wide eyed amazement just doesn't get old. One reality of Nyendo we were witness to was when we were down by the wetlands, where a woman was collecting water out of a small stagnant pool for laundry. The worker pointed at it and explained that many people access this water, including as drinking water.
Chelsea and I (mostly Chelsea this day) co-led a talk around Epilepsy at the weekly women's group. It can be quite startling to hear some of the common ideas around this condition. When asked around what people know about epilepsy, some of the misconceptions were ones not uncommon back at home, such ideas as that someone may swallow their tongue, or that you should attempt to place something in the mouth. More disturbing are ideas around it being dangerous to touch someone who is seizing. Or that should you pull someone in a seizure out of a fire that they will not heal properly (a patient who until recently was at ward 14 bears the consequence of this belief). It can be difficult to process this, as we take our access to more accurate and medical knowledge around this for granted, and because the human fallout is so apparent. We have also seen the incredible ability of people here, despite such a lack of basic resources, to band together for support and to educate their communities. Its a bit of a perplexing position to be in as someone from the West, who does not have a deep knowledge of local culture or beliefs or history, at the intersection of traditional belief systems and more modern and western approaches. But knowing just enough history, its impossible not to be aware that much of the knowledge and ideas we, and Africans too, are trying to impart to improve and empower, come from the same parts of the world that looted with abandon while ignoring human dignity and paving the way for unspeakable horrors. I think reasons for these things are incredibly complicated but what I am trying to say is that, as shocking as some beliefs are, it is understandable in the wake of these things that people cling to traditional ideas linked to their identity and place in the world and that there be some resistance to western ideas. And then on the other side, in spite of the history, we have felt welcomed with open arms by just about every person or group of people we have encountered, and have never been met with resentment or hostility. Our contributions have been received with enthusiasm Whether our input or suggestions are taken to heart is hard to guage; we've been told a number of times that it is very rare for a Ugandan to disagree openly with a guest or let us know if something is a bad idea. I sometimes wish they would but it illustrates their tremendous hospitality. So our exact role remains mysterious, but I'm comfortable with our stated primary one that we are here as learners.
Oh, here is a picture of grasshopper traps to compliment Chelsea's last entry:
No comments:
Post a Comment