One Week In. (Jesse)

We arrived in Uganda one week ago, and the discomfort of the long flight is a memory.  I actually hate to fly for a variety of reasons, but there was one moment that I do care to remember.  I flipped up my window cover on route to Entebbe from London, and I saw a sea of lights under us.An African City!  According to the "your flight" selection on the screen, it looked to be Khartoum.It struck me that we had also flown directly over Athens and Cairo, which was actually a detour from the usual route, altered so as to avoid Libyan airspace.  It was a moment to briefly snap meout of my flight paralysis, and realize I was as far from home as I've ever been.  That feeling was definitely amplified when we arrived to Masaka.  A week into it, we've started to settle in and feel comfortable here.  Even the massive prehistoric looking storks already don't look as strange.I have been placed in two practicum settings.  One is Child Restoration Outreach (CRO) and one is the pyschiatric ward at Masaka Regional Hospital.  I've been introduced to each of them this week.

My CRO placement began with a meeting between Bob (practicum superviser), the director of CRO, their accountant, Chelsea (who I've been partnered with for both settings), and myself.  The director greeted us with what we've found is very customary of Ugandans, telling us "you are welcome."  We were made to feel as such with a great warmth that I have found is rare in Canada. The CRO staff expressed gratitude for past contributions of students and Douglas College, and specifically mentioned the connection with the psych ward at the hospital that Douglas College facilitated as a valuable contribution of their work.

It was off to the site itself after the meeting, where we were told the children would be very excited to have two new "mzungus" (white people) amongst them.  This was, to we reserved Canadians, an understatement.  It is hard to conceptualize the enthusiasm of the children here.  We were rushed and we had them nearly literally hanging off of us.  Children grabbed our wrists, shaked and held our hands, wrapped their arms around us, sometimes just touching our faces.  The children, as it seems all children here do, chanted, "Hey Mzungu!"  They were all intensely curious about us and where we were from.  Although these children are living on the streets, it seemed many had enough English to ask our names and where we were from. We spent part of our first day watching a rehearsal for an Easter performance the children would perform, reenaction the Easter story.  We were lucky enough to be invited on the Wed to see the finished product.  It ended with the children singing and dancing to the intricate pounding of African Drums.  Afterward, we spend time with the kids for a couple of hours, playing basketball and soccer. The kids were even more enthused this day, full of a rare meat lunch provided for Easter.  The kids held out the pale parts of our arms and joked we were better than the other mzungus there who have been well coloured by their time in Africa. The spirit, smiles, and affection of these kids all contribute to a sense of happiness, and its impossible not to be touched by it.  But as much as they may seem it,it does not seem possible that they can be happy.  Our way home showed a piece of reality that sharply the contrast between what our western eyes interpret in the behaviour of these kids and the grim truth of the situation.  One child followed us for part of the walk after we were done, his demenour consistent with the rest of our day.  He left us to join his companions, along with a homeless man, picking through trash in a garbage bin not far from the CRO centre. Earlier that day, one of the Swedes who is volunteering filled us in on various stories of some of the children.  One case that really stood out was a young girl, who was amongst the sweetests and most affectionate kids there.  She reportedly lives in the worst part of the Nyendo slum.  Blankets and I think some food is provide to her by a close by neighbour woman, however she also provides the kids around there with drugs, including glue.  I was unsure about what she gets from this arrangement and am hesitant to ask.  This girl is 4 or 5 years old at the most.

As depressing as this may sound, spending time with these kids still had us feeling pretty good. These first experiences were overwhelming It is difficult not to feel inspired and awed by the spirit and resillience of them. The juxtaposition of the way the children carry themselves and what is their reality really is a marvel.  They are so very resillient to say at the minimum.  At least this is how it feels at the moment.  It is impossible to know, however.  We are on the other side of the world in a culture that is very different from our own, and young street children is an issue that is virtually unknown in Canada. Withouth a real cultural understanding its impossible to really judge the state of the kids.  We likely lack the ability to pick up the signs of fear, trauma, and anger, things we would normally associate with street life of a child, as they probably manifest in ways we don't know how to interpret.  I look forward cautiously to getting to know these kids and to understanding the reality of street children here.

We'll each be updating this about once a week, I'll speak to my other placement in a week!