August Reflections

It's been awhile since my last post. Mainly because it's been difficult to find a substantive topic to write about. So I'm just going to write about my observations over the last month.

Term II officially ended on August 12. And before that our school was only just half functioning. So I've had more time on my hands to focus on other things besides teaching.

I want to write about the concept of normal. What is normal exactly? The New Oxford American Dictionary defines normal as "conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected". Normal is everyday, expected. So over time and with change, everyone's normal evolves.

Coming to Uganda 18+ months ago represented a substantial shift in my normal. The normal for me was living in one of the, if not the most wealthy, productive, and advanced nations in the world. I took a step back and realized that what that is isn't really normal, on a global scale. We're not the normal. We're odd. Peculiar. Different.

Much of the world continues to live in harsh conditions, in oppression, in poverty, in suffering. We volunteers of 20 + x years of age came over here with our conception of normal based in a world where less than 5% of the population lives the way we do. I don't think there is anything that can fully prepare you for such an abrupt transition.

I've talked a little bit about the concept of option and choice in the past. These luxuries are a major discriminator between the rich world and the poor world. I've appreciated this difference in some regards and been frustrated with it in others.

The things I really appreciate, for example, are inherent in Uganda's simplicity. In it's lack of choice.

In the village, I know I'm going to have one of maybe five different wholesome and nutritious local Ugandan meals everyday. Not something that was processed and injected with chemicals X, Y and Z whose selection was based on some test results from a focus group of a study conducted on a representative sample of the overall population of consumers based out of Columbus, Ohio. In Uganda, you get the opportunity and privilege to go back to eating actual, real food at its most basic level. Not some derivative of what used to be food.

I appreciate the cash economy. Meaning, cash is the economy. Business is conducted and goods are exchanged via payments made in cash, with actual notes. Credit is just not a feasible or sustainable option for most. I appreciate the simplicity inherent in this system. You can only spend what you have and you only receive what you earn.

I appreciate the limited options at the market. Not having to decide on which one of six different types of tomatoes to buy. There is only one type, if they are even available that day.

I appreciate the simple mechanics of everyday life. Most people get around in my village by foot or by bicycle. Transportation is exercise here. It is also a social function. Everywhere everyone goes they greet one another. And greeting is a HUGE deal here, one of the most important social duties countrywide.

Ugandans don't compartmentalize themselves like us Americans tend to do. Isolated. Moving from one box to another. Bedroom box to bathroom box to car box to office box back to car box to return to home box, rinse and repeat. Boxes are few in Uganda. And the boxes that exist are shared by many.

Every time I go into Kampala, I'm overwhelmed by the options of places to eat. Choice brings about complication. First world problems.

I appreciate the different phrases Ugandans use to say things. Examples....

"Well be back!" - A derivative of "Welcome back!", this is said to someone who has come back from doing something or being somewhere, one of my favorites.

"Next time better." - Said to someone when a situation doesn't quite work out the way you had hoped for, another close favorite

"Well done." - Not sure what I think about this one but it is said to just about anyone for just about anything. Even if you have done nothing at all.

"You've been lost!" - Said to someone when they have not been around for some time and/or have been somewhere else for some time.

And then there is the plethora of replies you hear when you ask someone how they are doing. I love them all....

"I'm fine."

"We are ok."

"We are somehow fair just."

"Well, yes, we are trying."

"We are progressing slowly slowly."

And then some of the more thought provoking responses I have received....

"We are struggling."

"The struggle continues."

"Praise God."

And my personal favorites.....

"We are fine, but poverty."

"We are ok, just famine."

"Good, but no money."

Yes, I am a fearless, heartless PCV who casually brushes dismisses the likes of suffering individuals and feels nothing when encountering homeless and starving children on the streets. Ok, not quite. However, there is some truth to that statement. You do become incredibly desensitized to seeing so much hardship.

But you become incredibly sensitized to seeing all the good in people, and the comedy that often ensues from it. Not because good people and funny things are uncommon here, but because you don't expect to see them in such a hard environment. Nothing could be further from the truth. And when you come across them, it's a transcending experience.

Like when I'm in Kampala making a purchase and the salesman tells me they don't carry plastic bags for the goods they sell because they are environmentally friendly. In a city where the streets are filled with garbage and smoldering exhaust, this is comical. And I appreciate it. It makes me love that guy and everything he has done for me in the past five minutes. I want to just throw money at him to reward him for such a simple circumstance.

Or when a man buys a water for me on the bus ride home because he knows I'm thirsty, out of courtesy. My heart swells up with joy at this simple act of kindness.

And when I'm sitting on that same bus, in someone else's seat, and a man approaches me and tells me I'm in his seat, we promptly find a way to figure the situation out. He and a couple others engage in a satirical exchange mocking the recent opposition protests. "Yes, yes, we had a problem with the seats here, but we are resolving it, amicably, on our own, without protests. We are civilized." It makes me want to burst out laughing. Where do these comments come from?

Or when I'm buying airtime at the closest "shack" where a woman provides me with some of the best service I've ever received and then, gives me a pack of gum on the house just to top things off. I'm floored.

Or the countless times my neighbor kids surprise me with their respect, maturity, and selfless acts that make my life easier.

You realize just how similar we all are as human beings. And all those preconceived associations we have in our heads about different people, different cultures, different values, melts away. You are able to identify with those half a world away from you. And you know that every living thing in this world deserves dignity and a decent life. That each life is significant and suffering universal, yet each person's suffering is unique and present to them only. The triumph is the good that breaks through and persists without retreat.

What's Going On At Site

The highlights:

- I organized another malaria day at site to sensitize my community on prevention and treatment, we sold 125 mosquito nets at 3,000 shillings a piece, that about a $1.25! Pictures to follow later.

- I've given two out of three final exams to my students. Writing S4 final mock exam. Grading papers for over 200 students is not such a fun task.

- In the process of procuring electronic equipment for my school to organize a "movie night" so students, most of whom, have not seen a computer or hollywood film before.

- Our school is getting a computer lab. I hope to begin teaching ICT next term. If things get organized in time.

- The application process for law schools has kicked off! Let the scrutinizing begin!

The Root of Money

Nothing new or original here. I just read this book in country and absolutely loved it. Having lived in Uganda for the past 18 months and seen of the effects of "moochers" and "looters", I can appreciate everything this passage represents. I hope you enjoy reading it.

http://www.working-minds.com/money.htm

Where A Kid Can't Be A Kid

In Uganda, kids are raised a little differently. They are shouldered with much more responsibility much earlier in life and given very little in the form of nurturing and comfort. This leads to kids that are more autonomous and arguably stronger than our spoiled, over-stimulated, over-sensitized children.

The kids that live next door to me are ages 14, 11, 10, 7 and 5. They live with their parents. The home they are living in now is not their ancestral home. It is simply the home they live in because their father works at the school. Their mother lives back at their ancestral home where she manages the farm and other income generating projects. So the father lives with the five kids in this secondary home. For about the past 10 consecutive weeks, the father leaves Thursday evening for his ancestral home to do some sort of work and returns back to the school on Tuesday evening.

There are few things I take note of when this occurs. First, the father just blatently abandons his job for three out of five days of the workweek. This is pretty common at my school. Probably because my head teacher doesn't enforce almost any of the arsenal of policies he has at his disposal. The second thing that I note, is that the kids are left alone for a good 4.5 days each week. What do they do when their father is gone? Everything!

They dig in the garden. They harvest their own food. They collect their own water. They cook their own food. They cook amazing meals for me. I'm so thankful I have them. They bathe themselves everyday. They manage their own bedtimes. A few weeks ago I asked the kids if they wanted to watch a movie that night. The response from the eldest siblings literally was, "These are school days. We cannot." Meaning he refused because he knew they needed their sleep for the school the next day. I was shocked. What kind of kid in America would respond in such a manner?

They manage others bedtimes! When a neighbor boy who stays with the family showed up late one night, they refused to let him in for over two hours. The boy sat outside crying. I asked the kids why they didn't let him in for so long, they said because he was late and they had already locked the door. The boy cried a lot, but I bet he learned his lesson.

The work out their conflicts on their own. With no parents to comfort and console them, the affected siblings sit and cry, sometimes for over an hour at a time. They cry until they get tired of crying.

Even when the father is there, they work it out themselves. Last night at dinner, the seven year old daughter burned her wrist on the wood fire they use for cooking. She started crying. The father came out and asked what was wrong. The kids told them what had happened. He stood there for about five seconds, and then walked back inside the house. The daughter continued to cry for about another 20 minutes and then she was silent.

Kids are treated differently. I mentioned last night at dinner. I was having dinner with kids outside. The father never eats with his own children. He eats inside, by himself. This is pretty customary in Uganda. Many times in a household, the children and wife eat at the floor while the husband sits alone at the table. In more progressive families, the wife will eat with the husband at the table. Even in my home stay back in training, all the children at on the floor, the table was reserved for me and the mother (the father was deceased). I'm sure if he were alive he'd have been at the table, and possibly not the wife. Kids are served the least amount of food. The man of the house gets the most. As a kid, the bigger you are the more food you get. The smallest gets almost nothing.

Kids are runners. Meaning they run errands. For who? Well, for anyone who is not a kid. I take advantage of this situation daily. I have my kids go and get me things in the village or go buy food for dinner. It makes me feel lazy, but I have to admit, I like the practice. And my kids are happy to do it. For them most of the time it means they will get some sort of reward from me out of it.

Given the situation that they have been given, the kids are incredibly humble and well behaved. I continue to be impressed by their humility, respect, and discipline. And find myself paralleling what a similar situation in America would yield.

One of the reasons I believe the kids are so disciplined, is because their very survival depends on it. As a poor, rural Ugandan, there are certain things you have to do everyday. Otherwise, you don't eat, or you don't sleep, or you get sick, or you run out of money, etc. There is no social safety net. No one and no thing to fall back on. It is one man for himself, or in this case, five kids.

Dear Donors

When I walk down the street in Uganda, most times, people ask me for money. Imagine being in a large city and being approached by a bum just about every time you go anywhere. Now imagine a society where many people think you should give the money, because, after all, you have it, and that guy doesn't! This is a pretty accurate picture of poor Uganda.

I'm not saying this particular situation is wrong in an absolute sense. After all, what is right and wrong? These terms are relative, ever changing in the views of society.

This is simply the culture. In Uganda, poverty is widespread. If someone has a problem, it is customary for them to ask their friend for money. And Ugandan culture encourages fellow Ugandans to give to those in need. The problem evolves when white people enter the picture, and everyone assumes you have a lot of money. I don't.

Why do they ask for money? Because they assume we have a lot of it. Why? Because we are white. And white people usually come from rich nations. Rich nations with big houses. With big cars. With big airplanes. And flat screens. And everything else that we don't really need. Everything that a poor Ugandan thinks he wants. Thinks will make him happy. Thinks will make his life easier. And some of it will to a certain extent.

So maybe they are right, to a certain extent. We do possess relative wealth compare to our host country nationals. But last time I checked, Peace Corps volunteers aren't topping the list of America's most wealthy individuals. Most of us are pretty broke, right out of college, making less than $250 a month.

Another reason they ask for a lot of money? Because they genuinely believe we will just reach into our pockets, pull out a 50,000 shilling note, and place it in their hands. Why? Because A LOT of white people do! In fact, there is a whole business dedicated to driving around in SUVs and handing out money to poor people. You see it a lot living here.

I'm of the firm belief that all aid given in the form of money should be given with the objective of reducing and/or eliminating the need to provide future aid to that individual or nation. Basically, the goal of aid should be to stop aid. The goal of a donor organization should be to put itself out of business. I realize this is a contradiction to those wishing to remain with a purpose and/or job in this field.

And I want to carve out several caveats. I believe in relief aid. I believe in humanitarian aid. Aid given during emergencies involving the difference between human beings surviving, and human beings dying. Which transitions me to my next exemption. I believe in aid designed to keep human beings living. Such as the aid that comes in the form of anti-retroviral drugs for those living with HIV/AIDS and drugs designed to treat malaria and other deadly diseases.

What I don't believe in is gifted aid. Something that encourages nothing and has no follow up. I've seen it do so much damage to this country. It poisons the mindsets of the poor host country nationals that us volunteers live amongst. Honestly, sometimes I get the feeling that my fellow villagers resent me simply for the fact that I don't give out money. I feel as if some of them see me as a selfish muzungu. I've never had a specific incidence where this was brought up. But I've talked to several other volunteers who have had terrible experiences from this instilled sense of dependency so common in Ugandans mindset.

Dependency is destructive. It eliminates all incentive for individuals to take ownership of their own destinies and produce. It destroys work ethic. It inhibits autonomy. It creates an unsustainable cycle of give and take. One side giving all and one side taking all. It isn't the way a society can function.

How do YOU, the reader, help? Research the organizations you are giving to. What do they do exactly? How do you know for sure? How do they disperse their funds? How do they ensure accountability? What is their end goal? Can people do this themselves? Why do they need this organization?

I'm of the opinion that there is way too much money flowing into this continent. And not enough being created by the continent itself. My opinion? It should be halved. Focusing first on the exceptions I pointed out above and then on aid designed to end all aid. With milestones and checks throughout the entire process.

Somewhere along the line we as a world made a decision that it was better to prop up unstable regimes instead of allowing them to slip into chaos and despair. I guess I have to agree with this. But the end result of this philosophy isn't pretty either. That doesn't mean there is no way to win. There is. And it starts at the ground level. It starts with a change in the way we think about giving. The philosophy and principles that determine when our money is released and when it is held. Right now, we are doing a disservice to everyone. But that can change.

If you're looking for a good place to start, check out KIVA, http://www.kiva.org/. Organizations like this I feel support the end goal of what we're trying to accomplish. Be the change! Namaste.

On Corruption

Case Study #1

I was recently informed that the Uganda Little League Baseball team won a big championship and did well enough to earn a trip to the United States for a couple of weeks to compete. Upon hearing this news, like most other American volunteers, I was happy. Then I learned that the United States had denied their visas because the players parent's had lied about their ages. See link below.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/31/sports/for-uganda-little-leaguers-exhilaration-and-then-heartbreak.html?emc=eta1

As I write this, I have not been able to read the article due to no internet connection. But my immediate response to the headline, which was all I could see, was pride. I was proud. Proud of the fact that I am from a country that catches this sort of thing. That says no to corruption. That says no to deceit. That tolerates nothing but what is fair and honest, or at least tries its hardest to.

Having lived in a country for the past 18 months where corruption and dishonesty are pervasive and devastating, I felt no remorse. I have seen firsthand the effects of bad government and dishonest people. How they impact ordinary people. How it damages the chances of honest citizens trying to progress through life's stages the "right way". How it hinders development. How it destroys lives and ends them. How it destroys hope and breeds complacency.

Allowing the Ugandan Little Leaguers to field a team that knowingly lied would set an awful precedent and only fuel the fire of destruction and disrespect for rule of law. If I feel sorry for anyone, it's for the kids. I despise the adults surrounding the team. I despise their decisions and the way they made the kids believe it was ok to lie. It was ok to do the wrong thing. And my faith in our system of justice and accountability was refreshed and reinforced.

Case Study #2

A few weeks ago, I wrote a requisition for some electronic equipment for my school. I wanted to buy some new equipment for our labs in the school. I wrote the requisition out for 500,000 Ugandan shillings. At a current exchange rate of 2,600 shillings per dollar, that is approximately $192.31. A few days after I wrote the requisition, the school bursar called me into his office and handed me 500,000 shillings in cold hard cash. "Ok, you can now buy what you want." He said.

I've been living in Uganda now for nearly 18 months. The United States Peace Corps pays me a living stipend of just over 600,000 shillings a month to pay for my basic needs while serving. Not that my standard of living comes anywhere close to the common man out in the village (they are much poorer), but I think it is fair to say I have been living poor.

I looked down at the 500,000 shillings the bursar placed in my hand. I put it in my backpack and walked back to my private office at the school. I took it out and looked at it again. But what you want he said. I thought to myself, this is nearly one month's salary for me. A lot of money, to me. I could probably take this money and keep it, and nothing would happen. The school would probably not say much of anything to me. I mean, the bursar is the only one who really knows I have it, and he is here maybe two days a week and cares very little, it at all, about what goes on outside his office.

For a few minutes, I experienced the dangerous and slippery feeling of temptation that comes from working in a system with no accountability. No system of checks to ensure transparency and deter bad behavior. Now I begin to imagine that I made about 50,000 shillings a month, instead of 600,000, which is more close to the common man's salary. How desperate would I be for this money? How much effort would it take for me to not eat it? What if I had no hope of ever making any more money than my 50,000 a month? No hope for a better job. What would I do? I'm pretty sure I would eat it.

The sad thing is. I honestly believe every single one of my colleagues at my school would eat it too, if given the opportunity. Sure, they sit around a table and complain about it all day in our staff room. But if given the chance to make a ton of money so easily, living in the poverty that they do, I think the would. And can you really blame them? Yes! You absolutely can. It's wrong. It's terrible. I hate it. But it's a product of poverty. Take away the need for more money is half the battle. But that only comes from a government without corruption, one willing to give good people what they really want. It's a vicious and depressing cycle.

Of course, I didn't eat the money. But I got a sense of what it felt like to be in that situation. To be able. Able to deceive. Able to steal. With no repercussions. Now multiply the money by millions and the people by thousands. Money from donor nations and global support organizations. People from some of the poorest villages in the world, elected and trusted overnight at the flick of a voter's pen. Spread it out across an entire nation. Do you get a sense of how it could hinder? I did. And I hated it. This is why development is still just development.