Today was the long-awaited “HIV/AIDS Extravaganza,” a community-wide fair-style production to sensitize people (especially youth) in Lugazi about HIV. Several of our volunteers have been working on this for over a month, partnering with the local Youth Outreach Mission (a local NGO made up of some of the finest youth and college students in Lugazi who want to build and serve within their community). The day began with a parade through town led by a band playing from the back of a truck with loudspeakers, and followed by literally hundreds of children and youth who were to perform throughout the day.
The performers were excellent and were key to getting a lot of youth there, along with their parents and teachers. Over 15 primary and secondary schools performed traditional dance, music, and song. One local high school (Metta Secondary School) made an original dance with traditional dance moves about how HIV is spread- quite an interesting dance once you knew the context! There were a couple of local hip-hop groups that were ridiculously talented- they would have made MJ proud.
Several volunteers on our team learned a traditional dance together with local youth who are part of the Youth Outreach Mission. We each wore the traditional cloth wrap-around and a long-haired fir strap around our hips to accentuate the shakeage. The crowd went wild seeing mzungus trying to dance like Africans.
Ali Archer and I choreographed a modern dance called “Coming Up.”Before the dance Alexis said a monologue that went something like this“I will not fear. I will accept what I feel. I will not be astatistic. I will protect my body. I will overcome HIV.”. A few of us did a dance with a group of HIV positive women to the High School Musical song “We’re all in this together” referring to the fact that HIV is a problem for the entire community, and people must work together- both those positive and negative- to battle the problem.Cheesy, but they loved it!
The new mayor of Lugazi (Ozuma- campaign name was “Obama”- how could you lose with that genius campaign scheme in Africa?!) came and gave a speech about HIV and then lip-synced a popular song. The director for the Ugandan Human Rights Commission also spoke, along with a very prominent and renowned preacher.
To cap off the experience, the latter part of the day I got to help organize the booth that was running free HIV/AIDS testing. I couldn’t sit by and just watch the action take place, so I got HIV tested! I’m negative. Obviously, it wasn’t a stressful situation for me as I had my friends take a picture as I got pricked, etc. But the real sobering part came when we had only one hour to get everyone out of the rented space and there was a huge line of people waiting to hear their status. The public health nurse said “Melissa, do you know how to do HIV counseling?” Noooo. “Then you will learn.” I watched her do it a couple of times, and then began. The questions would go along these lines: “What do you think your status is going to be? What will you do if your results show you are negative? What will you do if you are positive? Who do you have in your life that you could tell your status to?” Then after telling them they were negative (I only had negatives), I would ask what they will do to remain negative. The answers and reactions were so interesting. Some were so nervous and let out a huge sigh of relief when they were found negative. Some seemed okay with the idea and possibility of being positive, and were comfortable in the fact that they could live meaningful lives.
Out of the about 150 people tested, 3 were found positive. A young15-year-old girl, a 23-year-old woman, and a woman who is currently breastfeeding (so her baby will get tested as well). Crazy that their whole life has just changed. I didn’t meet any of them, but they are now connected with the hospital to begin counseling and treatment. If our event elicited nothing else, at least 3 people now know their HIV status and can now go forward in getting treatment and prevent its spread to others. But luckily, I think that is just one of the many good effects that came as a result of this project.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Radio Interview- June 26th
Last night I was invited to be interviewed and answer questions for one hour on the “Insolo Yamagezi” (“The Source of Wisdom”) Radio Station that is aired all over Uganda and Kenya. I should have been more nervous, but I have become kind of accustomed to giving on-the-fly speeches here and Ugandans are so encouraging and forgiving it is no longer intimidating.
Also on the show were two of my good friends, Wilson and Robert, who have founded and are leading The Youth Outreach Mission, a local NGO focused on getting the youth involved in developing their community. The talk show host had us each introduce our organizations and then asked us follow-up questions. I talked about all of our cool projects, the mission of HELP International, my role in the group, etc. THEN people could call in with questions for any of us. That’s when it got really funny.
The majority of the show was in Lugandan and then questions for me were translated by the host. I always knew when a question was directed at me because I would, without fail, hear the words “Mzungu…. Obama.” The first question for me was pretty good, followed by some real doosies. Here’s some samples of our dialogue:
Q: “As your mission is to alleviate poverty, how do you identify who the poor are?”
A: “Rather than trying to identify them ourselves, we partner with the local town council, the Youth Outreach Mission, and other local community-based organizations to help us identify the areas of greatest need in the community.”
Q: “Will you bring Obama to Uganda?”
A: “Well… I’ve never met him myself, but if I do, I’ll tell him to come!”
Q: “What is your marital status?”
A: “ [surprised laughter] Uh… I’m… single.”
Radio Host: “But still searching?”
A: “Yeah, still searching….”
Ha! So yes, all of Uganda and Kenya now know my relationship status! Cool.
Also on the show were two of my good friends, Wilson and Robert, who have founded and are leading The Youth Outreach Mission, a local NGO focused on getting the youth involved in developing their community. The talk show host had us each introduce our organizations and then asked us follow-up questions. I talked about all of our cool projects, the mission of HELP International, my role in the group, etc. THEN people could call in with questions for any of us. That’s when it got really funny.
The majority of the show was in Lugandan and then questions for me were translated by the host. I always knew when a question was directed at me because I would, without fail, hear the words “Mzungu…. Obama.” The first question for me was pretty good, followed by some real doosies. Here’s some samples of our dialogue:
Q: “As your mission is to alleviate poverty, how do you identify who the poor are?”
A: “Rather than trying to identify them ourselves, we partner with the local town council, the Youth Outreach Mission, and other local community-based organizations to help us identify the areas of greatest need in the community.”
Q: “Will you bring Obama to Uganda?”
A: “Well… I’ve never met him myself, but if I do, I’ll tell him to come!”
Q: “What is your marital status?”
A: “ [surprised laughter] Uh… I’m… single.”
Radio Host: “But still searching?”
A: “Yeah, still searching….”
Ha! So yes, all of Uganda and Kenya now know my relationship status! Cool.
Experiencing the wild side of Africa
While our group works hard in the community from dawn til dusk every weekday, on the weekends we’ve been able to do some pretty fun activities. Here’s a few:
Visited the famous “Source of the Nile”- where Lake Victoria narrows and becomes the mouth to the river which gives life to much of Eastern Africa. Near the source there is also a monument to Muhatma Gandhi, who wrote in his will that he wanted his ashes scattered at the source of the Nile to represent the continual flow of peace and non-violence throughout Africa. Being the silly sentimental person that I am, I wanted to buy a necklace there at Gandhi’s monument- and in the process convinced the girls I was with to do the same- so that I could have a “Gandhi necklace.” You can buy the same ones anywhere in Uganda, but now it’s got that added memory.
All in one day, I bungee jumped 150 feet into the Nile River and then rafted 17 miles down the Nile. Yes! It was quite the adventure. Several of the rapids are level 5 (6 being the highest possible), which is the highest that amateur rafters are allowed on. The majesty and power of the Nile was just remarkable. At one point as I viewed the massive waterfalls and lush tropical greenery around me while crashing high speed through crazy rapids, I thought to myself, “This reminds me of a ride at Disneyland.” And then I realized “OH, this is what the ride at Disneyland was meant to replicate!” Silly Westerner.
We went on a safari at the Murchison Falls National Park. Another example of first associating the real experience with the contrived zoo one. Riding in a safari truck where the roof pops off, we went through the grasslands territory and were able to see dozens of giraffes so classically eating from the tops of trees, several hippos bathing in a shallow pool to keep out of the sun, little antelopes (called “kobes”) prancing through the grasslands, families of elephants chilling, crocodiles sun-bathing with their mouths wide open (I can’t remember why they do that… but there is a reason…), water buffalo, baboons, and… we were able to track FIVE lions (and they said that some days they don’t see any). Yeah, we pulled our vehicle up to this tree where 3 of them were resting- we were so close we could hear them panting! We camped in the park, and every morning there were warthogs just chilling outside of my tent. And I figured out that I already know a bunch of Swahili: pumba = warthog, simba = male lion, nala = female lion, rafiki = friend, and hakuna matata means- yup, you know it- no worries…
Visited the famous “Source of the Nile”- where Lake Victoria narrows and becomes the mouth to the river which gives life to much of Eastern Africa. Near the source there is also a monument to Muhatma Gandhi, who wrote in his will that he wanted his ashes scattered at the source of the Nile to represent the continual flow of peace and non-violence throughout Africa. Being the silly sentimental person that I am, I wanted to buy a necklace there at Gandhi’s monument- and in the process convinced the girls I was with to do the same- so that I could have a “Gandhi necklace.” You can buy the same ones anywhere in Uganda, but now it’s got that added memory.
All in one day, I bungee jumped 150 feet into the Nile River and then rafted 17 miles down the Nile. Yes! It was quite the adventure. Several of the rapids are level 5 (6 being the highest possible), which is the highest that amateur rafters are allowed on. The majesty and power of the Nile was just remarkable. At one point as I viewed the massive waterfalls and lush tropical greenery around me while crashing high speed through crazy rapids, I thought to myself, “This reminds me of a ride at Disneyland.” And then I realized “OH, this is what the ride at Disneyland was meant to replicate!” Silly Westerner.
We went on a safari at the Murchison Falls National Park. Another example of first associating the real experience with the contrived zoo one. Riding in a safari truck where the roof pops off, we went through the grasslands territory and were able to see dozens of giraffes so classically eating from the tops of trees, several hippos bathing in a shallow pool to keep out of the sun, little antelopes (called “kobes”) prancing through the grasslands, families of elephants chilling, crocodiles sun-bathing with their mouths wide open (I can’t remember why they do that… but there is a reason…), water buffalo, baboons, and… we were able to track FIVE lions (and they said that some days they don’t see any). Yeah, we pulled our vehicle up to this tree where 3 of them were resting- we were so close we could hear them panting! We camped in the park, and every morning there were warthogs just chilling outside of my tent. And I figured out that I already know a bunch of Swahili: pumba = warthog, simba = male lion, nala = female lion, rafiki = friend, and hakuna matata means- yup, you know it- no worries…
Experiencing Gulu
A couple of weeks ago I traveled to Kampala to visit with “Honorable Betty,” a member of the Ugandan parliament over the Gulu district. Gulu is in northern Uganda, and was occupied by the infamous LRA as recently as 2005. The LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army) is basically a group of young child soldiers led (controlled) by a terrible man named Joseph Kony that has been functioning for over 20 years. Kony has maintained power by torture, murder, and terrorizing communities, and kidnapping children that are then forced to be child soldiers. The LRA has left northern Uganda but has continued their terrible work in the DR Congo.
Earlier this year I applied for and received a SID (Students for International Development) grant from my university. The grant proposal was to build energy-saving stoves in the refugee camps (they are actually IDP Camps- Internally Displaced Persons- as they are refugees in their own country) in northern Uganda. However, upon meeting with Honorable Betty, she informed us that they are currently working to destroy the IDP camps and are encouraging people to move back to their home villages. She explained how the IDP camps are destroying their culture as children who grow up in the unstable and temporary environment of the camps do not learn of their tribal history, arts and crafts, music and dance. Therefore, she told us that what the people of Gulu need is for us to build their communities rather than the IDP camps. We were able to modify our focus to work with the same population, and deliver what is really needed (rather than what we thought they needed).
We split our group of 15 up to work in 3 areas: Laroo, Paicho, and Ajulu. In Laroo we were able to partner with an existing organization called “Laroo Bedo Dano Tek” (“To be a human being is difficult”), which is a support group for people who are HIV positive. Paicho and Ajulu were definitely out in the bush- there was no public transportation to get out to there, so we got to take 30 minute motorcycle rides (“boda bodas”) out on the dusty roads every day to get there.
In each of these locations, we were able to train locals on how to build the stoves, and most often THEY taught us more effective techniques for building them. They have the skills, we are just able to share with them this particular money and time-saving application of their skills in the building of the stoves. For example, as we have built stoves in the area surrounding our home of Lugazi, we typically use clay found near bodies of water to fill the stove. However, as clay is not plentiful in the northern region where we were for this experience, the locals taught us to actually use the dirt from anthills (which are gargantuous here- often standing 7 or 8 feet off the ground). The great thing about adobe stoves is that they are quite simple to construct, cut the cost or quantity of fuel needed for cooking by as much as one-quarter, reduce cooking time by about half, help the environment, and reduce the impact of smoke inhalation that particularly effects women and children causing respiratory problems and early death.
One of the stoves we worked on in Ajulu was for a strong old woman named Margaret. Her home, along with everybody’s in her village, is about a 15 foot circular structure with mud walls, dirt floors, and a grass roof. What was particularly noticeable upon arrival was that the hard-beaten dirt floor surrounding her hut was perfectly swept clean in almost an artistic pattern, like that which would be used to plaster a wall. I didn’t know people swept dirt floors before coming to Uganda. She did not speak a lick of English, nor we a lick of Luo (the local language) so without a translator, we would just communicate through grunts and gestures and pretend we knew what she was saying when she would rattle off long speeches to us. At one point we needed to fetch more water to mix with the anthill mud. Since my feet were bare and muddy from stomping the water into the mud, and she did not have shoes either, I decided to accompany her barefoot to carry the water from the nearest pump. We passed by some schoolteachers having a meeting under a mango tree, and they all laughed at seeing a mzungu in bare feet. Half a mile away was a pump that was erected only in 2005. We each filled our jerry can with water and began the journey back. Hesitantly, but intent on following through with having the full experience of fetching water with her, I followed her lead and hoisted the container on my head for the journey back. I swear it was five times the distance of the way there. The ground seemed hotter, harder, and more rough and my balance would have been laughable to this little lady had I been in the lead. I began to think on that long walk back about how charming it was to be walking barefoot in this gorgeous, peaceful, isolated village while balancing water on my head (“balance” is used loosely here). And then I thought about how it was charming because I know I will in a couple months be able to return back to a home with instantly accessible pure water- actually from about 10 sources within my own home. And I’ll have sidewalks and 20 pairs of shoes too. For her it is not a charming thing, it is life. Interesting.
It was quite sobering to realize that every person we worked alongside with that weekend had been so recently affected by the ravages and terror of war in their very own neighborhoods. Many did not speak English enough to tell us their stories. And for those who did speak English, I stopped asking them about their families because each would turn into a sad story- I cannot think of one person who had not had a brother or mother or uncle who had been killed or captured in the war. Even talking to Job, the son of parliament member Honorable Betty, who had obviously lived a life above the median standard of living, talked about personally seeing the LRA pass by their village, seeing people killed, and mourning the loss of his own friends. Our last morning we were able to visit the headquarters for the Invisible Children organization (see http://www.invisiblechildren.com/ ). You may be familiar with the documentaries they have produced to raise awareness of the horrific acts of the LRA throughout the world. They are now engaged in a lot of community-building projects with schools and income-generating businesses to help people get back up on their feet.
While some fear still exists among the people of Gulu, every day that the LRA is not there people gain more confidence to go on with their lives, begin to build businesses, and invest in the future through education and building permanent homes and community buildings. It is fun that in a small way we were able to be a part of that.
Earlier this year I applied for and received a SID (Students for International Development) grant from my university. The grant proposal was to build energy-saving stoves in the refugee camps (they are actually IDP Camps- Internally Displaced Persons- as they are refugees in their own country) in northern Uganda. However, upon meeting with Honorable Betty, she informed us that they are currently working to destroy the IDP camps and are encouraging people to move back to their home villages. She explained how the IDP camps are destroying their culture as children who grow up in the unstable and temporary environment of the camps do not learn of their tribal history, arts and crafts, music and dance. Therefore, she told us that what the people of Gulu need is for us to build their communities rather than the IDP camps. We were able to modify our focus to work with the same population, and deliver what is really needed (rather than what we thought they needed).
We split our group of 15 up to work in 3 areas: Laroo, Paicho, and Ajulu. In Laroo we were able to partner with an existing organization called “Laroo Bedo Dano Tek” (“To be a human being is difficult”), which is a support group for people who are HIV positive. Paicho and Ajulu were definitely out in the bush- there was no public transportation to get out to there, so we got to take 30 minute motorcycle rides (“boda bodas”) out on the dusty roads every day to get there.
In each of these locations, we were able to train locals on how to build the stoves, and most often THEY taught us more effective techniques for building them. They have the skills, we are just able to share with them this particular money and time-saving application of their skills in the building of the stoves. For example, as we have built stoves in the area surrounding our home of Lugazi, we typically use clay found near bodies of water to fill the stove. However, as clay is not plentiful in the northern region where we were for this experience, the locals taught us to actually use the dirt from anthills (which are gargantuous here- often standing 7 or 8 feet off the ground). The great thing about adobe stoves is that they are quite simple to construct, cut the cost or quantity of fuel needed for cooking by as much as one-quarter, reduce cooking time by about half, help the environment, and reduce the impact of smoke inhalation that particularly effects women and children causing respiratory problems and early death.
One of the stoves we worked on in Ajulu was for a strong old woman named Margaret. Her home, along with everybody’s in her village, is about a 15 foot circular structure with mud walls, dirt floors, and a grass roof. What was particularly noticeable upon arrival was that the hard-beaten dirt floor surrounding her hut was perfectly swept clean in almost an artistic pattern, like that which would be used to plaster a wall. I didn’t know people swept dirt floors before coming to Uganda. She did not speak a lick of English, nor we a lick of Luo (the local language) so without a translator, we would just communicate through grunts and gestures and pretend we knew what she was saying when she would rattle off long speeches to us. At one point we needed to fetch more water to mix with the anthill mud. Since my feet were bare and muddy from stomping the water into the mud, and she did not have shoes either, I decided to accompany her barefoot to carry the water from the nearest pump. We passed by some schoolteachers having a meeting under a mango tree, and they all laughed at seeing a mzungu in bare feet. Half a mile away was a pump that was erected only in 2005. We each filled our jerry can with water and began the journey back. Hesitantly, but intent on following through with having the full experience of fetching water with her, I followed her lead and hoisted the container on my head for the journey back. I swear it was five times the distance of the way there. The ground seemed hotter, harder, and more rough and my balance would have been laughable to this little lady had I been in the lead. I began to think on that long walk back about how charming it was to be walking barefoot in this gorgeous, peaceful, isolated village while balancing water on my head (“balance” is used loosely here). And then I thought about how it was charming because I know I will in a couple months be able to return back to a home with instantly accessible pure water- actually from about 10 sources within my own home. And I’ll have sidewalks and 20 pairs of shoes too. For her it is not a charming thing, it is life. Interesting.
It was quite sobering to realize that every person we worked alongside with that weekend had been so recently affected by the ravages and terror of war in their very own neighborhoods. Many did not speak English enough to tell us their stories. And for those who did speak English, I stopped asking them about their families because each would turn into a sad story- I cannot think of one person who had not had a brother or mother or uncle who had been killed or captured in the war. Even talking to Job, the son of parliament member Honorable Betty, who had obviously lived a life above the median standard of living, talked about personally seeing the LRA pass by their village, seeing people killed, and mourning the loss of his own friends. Our last morning we were able to visit the headquarters for the Invisible Children organization (see http://www.invisiblechildren.com/ ). You may be familiar with the documentaries they have produced to raise awareness of the horrific acts of the LRA throughout the world. They are now engaged in a lot of community-building projects with schools and income-generating businesses to help people get back up on their feet.
While some fear still exists among the people of Gulu, every day that the LRA is not there people gain more confidence to go on with their lives, begin to build businesses, and invest in the future through education and building permanent homes and community buildings. It is fun that in a small way we were able to be a part of that.
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