I Left My Broken Heart in Agula IDP Camp

Yesterday, after a three hour dusty van ride through the bush into Odek sub-county, we arrived in Corner Agula IDP camp.  Corner Agula, which is located near the childhood home of Joseph Kony, was the former home of over 6,000 internally displaced persons from at-risk villages in Northern Uganda.

Today, after a large push by the Ugandan government in the last two years to relocate residents to their original land, roughly 200 people remain in the camp.  Many of the people that remain in the camp are EVIs, or "extremely vulnerable individuals" - the elderly, orphans, child-headed families, and the disabled, who are unable to return home.

Others still in the camp have encountered land disputes when they attempted to return home.  As more and more people were forced into the camps, land lay dormant all over Northern Uganda, and others took up residence upon it.  There is little in the way of formal land holdings in Uganda, and problem formerly inconsequential that currently results in massive conflict.  As people moved out of the camps, they found strangers living on their land and had both no way to prove it and no where else to go.  There and thousands of people that remain in the camps for this reason and are awaiting the resolution of these conflicts, which likely will never be resolved.

Corner Agula

We sat with the camp leaders and elders and discussed the issues the camps are facing, which included alcoholism, domestic violence, lack of employment, land disputes, and their remote location.  One of the biggest problems is the future of children raised in the camp.  Because IDP camps were cesspools of alcoholism, promiscuity, and thievery, many of these children have grown up with no moral background and little knowledge of their Acholi culture.  Many of these children also cannot afford school fees, and are therefore left with no education and no marketable skills to speak of.

The heartbreaking thing about it?  Their school fees are equivalent to between two and twenty American dollars per year.

As we talked with the elders, the children of the camp crowded around our group.  One little girl spent the entire time playing with my hair.  They were so excited for us to take their picture, and they reveled in seeing the images.  Unfortunately, we could not stay to play with them... we had much more to learn.

These kids broke our hearts.  And knowing we were there only for our own knowledge, instead of to help them, made it that much more difficult.  These people, refugees in their own country, or the ones that are forgotten.  There is no news coverage of their situation or articles written on their behalf.  They live in a forgotten corner... but Corner Agula is one I will never forget.

The Question on Everyone's Mind

WHAT'S THE FOOD LIKE?!

Yes, it does matter.
Yes, it is strange.
No, I don't hate it.

Let's talk about the most important revelation I've had since I've been here:
I've never actually tasted any sort of produce before in my entire life.
You think you know what pineapple tastes like.
You think you know what tomatoes taste like.
You think you know what avocado tastes like.
BUT YOU DON'T.

Not until you've been to Africa.


Besides for the ridiculously delicious produce that I can't get enough of,
(sidebar: I'm sitting outside at a muzungu cafe right now, and there are chickens wandering near me and they are way too close for comfort)
basically people here eat starch for every meal.  They pile your plate high with matoke (not my favorite.  basically... banana mush), cassava, sweet potatoes, mucele (rice) and chapatti (delicious flatbread).  Goat meat is surprisingly good (all meat is slaughtered the same day its on your table, mostly because there's little refrigeration here).  Dodo, or greens, is also a new favorite.  I'm trying everything and having hits and misses.

We've all run into a very big problem when it comes to eating here: its considered very rude not to finish what you're given.  The people here are shocked at how little we all eat.  Thankfully my family serves dinner family style, so I don't have to worry about overeating or being rude.  But still, I get a lot of comments about how I should eat more.

No, thanks.

Adony ba?

Moving into our homestays has by far been the most highly-anticipated moment of our trip.  To make a long story short, I lucked out big-time.

the compound.

My homestay father works for Caritas, an aid organization run by the Catholic Church.  My homestay mother works for an NGO that provides psychological support for people whose mental health has deteriorated as a result of the war.  This is something that is greatly needed here, as there is little in terms of mental health awareness.  There are "lapoya," or madmen, all over Gulu, and they scream in the streets without cause.

My homestay sister, Bridget, is a five-year-old firecracker.  She's been my best buddy since I moved in on Saturday and wants to play all the time.  She likes to "girigiri," which means "tickle" in Acholi.  Definitely my favorite vocab word so far.  She's also a bit of a biter, but we've made some progress on that front in the last few days.

my sister, Bridget.

My family is wealthy, especially by Ugandan standards.  I live in a compound with my parents, Bridget, and two little twin girls that are approaching their second birthday.  The family also has two maids and a houseboy, and they take care of the kids and the day-to-day of the house.  The parents are gone a lot on different projects (the day they were to pick me up, my mother was in Kampala and my father was in Nairobi.  Bridget came to greet me.)  I'm incredibly lucky, as some of my classmates are staying in less than desirable conditions.  I'm really enjoying my family so far, as they are younger and much more modern than we were warned to expect, which makes it much easier for me to relate to them.

my forty minute walk (five minute boda ride) home from the center of town.

The conversations we've had so far relate entirely to NGOs.  They both have a lot of experience and a perspective on foreign aid that is much different from my American opinion.  I feel its going to be eye-opening as I talk with them more about what the community needs versus what they actually get from foreign aid.  All in all, I'd say we're a perfect fit.

Dancing Queen

On our first full day in Gulu, we visited the Ker Kwaro Acholi Cultural Center, which holds jurisdiction over the whole of Acholiland.  Its objectives include:
    •    preserving the culture of the Acholi people.
    •    promoting peace and reconciliation.
    •    community empowerment through education.
    •    promoting good governance.

We discussed aspects of Acholi culture, including the power structure and social norms, with a few prominent community leaders.
    •    The Acholi tribe consists of 54 chiefdoms, each with a "Lawirwodi," or paramount chief.  Under each chief is a Council of Elders who assist in the chief's duties.  The chiefdoms are hereditary and patriarchal, but the elders are chosen by clan members.
    •    Men and women may not marry within their own clan, as all clan members are considered sisters and brothers.  When women marry, they become part of their husband's clan.
    •    Women are well-represented in the power structure, and wives are extremely influential.
    •    The Acholi are a non-violent people.  They strongly believe in using dialogue to settle disputes, and the chief often acts as a mediator when such incidents arise.
    •    Acholi children belong to the community, and everyone takes responsibility for raising them.  (This is something I have witnessed... everyone scolds my sister.  But more on that in a later post.)

    •    Due to the LRA war, the Acholi were forced into Internally Displaced Person (IDP) camps in 1996.  It has only been within the last two years, following the Juba Peace Talks in 2007, that people have begun to return to their homes.  (We're visiting an IDP camp on Friday.  They are mostly populated now by the elderly and orphans.  It promises to be a heartbreaking experience.)
    •    Ker Kwaro cares for formerly abducted children and former combatants who abandoned the LRA.  These returnees undergo ritual cleansing ceremonies and receive the support they need to re-enter the community.
We asked these leaders their opinions on the LRA war, foreign aid, and how the Acholi have transformed over the years.  One of the most interesting discussions we had concerned the International Criminal Court (ICC).  Joseph Kony, the leader of the LRA, was the first person the ICC ever indicted (along with his top commanders).  In the opinion of the leaders we spoke to at Ker Kwaro, he ICC has jeopardized peace in Uganda.  For Ugandans, the ideal scenario would be to achieve peace, get Kony home, and then focus on arrests.  The popular opinion here is that the ICC did not properly handle the situation, and needs to find an entirely new, victim-centered approach.

If you read all that and educated yourself on Acholi government structure, hats off to you.
Now onto the fun stuff.

There was dancing!

This is the traditional Acholi dance performed for chiefs during their inaugural ceremony.

At the end of over two hours of different dances (including courtship and rain dances) all the girls in our group got to join in a friendship dance!  Everyone just laughed at the muzungus trying to move like the Acholi girls, who had obviously been learning these dances since they were young.  Overall, I think most of us would agree it was one of the best experiences of our trip so far.

Gulu-Bound Baboons

Son of the old moon-mountains African!
  Stream of the Pyramid and Crocodile!
    We call thee fruitful, and that very while
      A desert fills our seeing's inward span.
      - John Keats, "To the Nile"

Getting to Gulu today involved a lot more than seven hours crammed in a hot mutatu.
It meant crossing the River Nile.  Let's just let that sink in for a minute.

Just a minute longer...

If I'm the only history nerd around, then so be it.  But it was the RIVER NILE.  Yes, it is a big deal.
I wish I had pictures to share, but the police will confiscate your camera at the bridge if they catch you with it.  I suppose you'll just have to take my word for it when I say that nothing can adequately express how magnificent it was.

Since we haven't really had a chance to explore Gulu yet, let's talk about my second favorite topic when it comes to Africa... the animals, of course.  Our driver, Muna, warned us that baboons will attack as we watched a man on a bicycle swatting a seemingly agitated primate away with a stick.

Visual aids are essential.

 
I hear a rooster crowing outside.  Its four in the afternoon.

Muzungu Lovin'

I'm in UGANDA.  Still doesn't quite feel like reality.

Arriving on Saturday was an overwhelming experience.  After 24 hours of travel (and meeting up with 8 other girls on my program in various airports), we flew through the busy streets at midnight, all of us still trying to grasp the fact that we were finally here... UGANDA!

The past few days have been beyond busy... orientation in the mornings and roaming Kampala in the afternoon into the night with my fellow muzungus.

"Muzungu" is the single word I've heard most often since I've been here.  Its the word Ugandans use for foreigners and is how they greet us on the street.  EVERYONE wants to stop and talk to us.  They ask where we're from, what we're doing in Uganda, and how we like Kampala so far.  Everyone we've encountered so far havebeen so incredibly friendly and helpful, which we're all unaccustomed to.  Let's just say that in the U.S., if you decide not to eat in a restaurant you walk into, the doorman will not leave his job and walk with you 20 minutes out of his way to find you a nice place to get dinner... then wait around for another half hour to make sure you get a nice table and have everything you need.  Nope, that's only our new friend Baker from the Palm Tree Bar.


Nothing could prepare me for navigating the streets of Kampala.  If a picture's worth a thousand words, what's a video worth?  This is Kampala Road, the main street in the city:

A few other things that so far have been new/surprising/unexpected:

1. The kids.  In Kampala there are so many children begging on the streets.  One little boy came up to me and held my hand for two blocks, calling me muzungu and asking for money.  Its heartbreaking.
2. The first time I saw a security guard sitting around on the street toting a rifle, it seemed insane.  But its common around here for banks, stores, bars, and clubs to have their own heavily armed security guards, and its actually ill-advised to go anywhere without them, especially at night.
3. Boda-bodas (motorcycle taxis)... the most frightening and dangerous traffic hazard I've ever experienced.  I'd say I've had around 17 near-death experiences so far thanks to these guys weaving in and out of traffic... and having zero appreciation for the art of braking.
4. In general, how much I love all of the other students in my program.  They are truly amazing people.

We're off to Gulu tomorrow morning for the next four weeks.  We'll head north and cross the Nile into the region known as Acholiland.  I continue orientation for the rest of this week, then move in with my homestay family on Sunday!

Tomorrow, Tomorrow, I'll Love Ya Tomorrow

Tomorrow's the day. WHOA.

Nothing really to report, other than this AWESOME video clip about the Lord's Resistance Army, the rebel army of Uganda's civil war.  Its a little outdated (2003) but I still think it gives a nice overview (and some great visuals) of what I'll be doing in Uganda.  Gulu, in the heart of northern Acholiland, where I'll be, was the center of the most violence for the last 20 years.

Gulu, Uganda... my home for about 6 weeks of the program.

UPDATE since this video was made:
Since about 2008, the LRA has moved out of Northern Uganda and into the Sudan and the DRC.  (Night commuting, a huge focus of this video, no longer occurs.)

Although the LRA is not currently a threat to the people of Uganda, the aftermath of their terror is exactly what I'll be studying.  This society has been living in fear for over 20 years (...think of it this way: Ugandans my age have never known anything but war), and now they must rebuild and rehabilitate their communities, not to mention their children.