new blogs

So... a new blog space for a new blog.

I have been in Uganda for 2 weeks and everything is going well. Recently, I have been visiting Suubi women (both old and new) in their homes to chat and assist them with rolling beads and making necklaces. Yesterday, I walked with Melissa to visit "fat baby Christine." (if you saw the baby, you would understand... also fat is a complement in this country) We chatted with Christine's husband and his brother, David, who offered to escort me to visit their mother, Nikolina because Christine was not rolling beads that day. We chatted more and walked to David and Nikolina's house with my usual "mzungu!" parade behind me. David, Nikolina, and I sat on the floor of her house stringing necklaces. David translated for Nikolina, as she only speaks Acholi Luo. With me, I brought a video camera that was brought from the US to film the buying meetings and other Suubi-esque stuff. I asked Nikolina and David if I could film them talking about their lives and telling their stories. They agreed. We spent the next 40 minutes talking about stories and songs Acholi people used to sing around the fire at night, Nikolina's move from Pader. Sorry..time's up...will continue tomorrow.

OK...it's Wednesday now. I'm at the Peace and Love and Hope Internet cafe. Not as fast as yesterday's. Let's see if this works. Where was I? David, fat baby Christine’s brother in law, escorted me past Margaret and Florence drying their varnished beads on a line strung between two buildings. I waved and told them that I’d return later on to help them roll more beads. We continued on to Nikolina’s house with my ever-present parade of children. I sat in her front room with her two sons, David and Joseph, stringing necklaces. I explained to Nikolina, via David’s translation, that I would like to videotape her conversation to be sent to Dave in the US to use to tell the stories behind the beads. Nikolina agreed and we began talking about her village in the district of Pader. She explained that she and her children had left Pader in the 90s when the rebels had killed people in her village. She has been living in Jinja ever since and explained how some of her older children have chosen to return to Pader, but are unable to find work. Nikolina now cares for 5 of her children and 2 of her grandchildren who had been living with her daughter's in Pader. Her husband went to Sudan 5 years ago for work and used to send back money, but she has not heard from him in 1 year. She is not sure if he is alive. Nikolina explained that she uses the money she makes from Suubi to pay her rent and buy food, but frequently does not have enough money to pay for school fees. She said that she pays for the younger children’s school fees first, but does not have enough to pay for David's university fees. She told me that she would like to return to her village because she has land there and it is the Acholi home, but she is certain that she could not feed her children and send them to school there. She expressed her gratitude for Suubi and explained that she would not be able to have a home if not for the weekly buying.

Nikolina's front door faces the bush: a patch of undeveloped land. David explained that his ancestors used to be able to walk in the bush and hunt animals. His ancestors used to sit around the fire in the compound and tell stories about hunting and growing food. David was surprised to learn that I have a home that faces the bush and my friends and I sit around fires while fishing.

I am slightly disturbed by my lack of strong emotions since arriving in Uganda. I listen to womens’ stories of being taken from their homes at the point of a machete and forced to walk for miles carrying heavy loads with no food or water. While this is going on, I tend to focus on the beads at hand and look up occasionally to nod or say “So bad, so bad.” I am followed by children wearing crusty remnants of clothing who motion to their mouths with the international symbol for “give me food.” I do the “I’m-being-followed-by-a-bum/leaflet-distributor/police officer-so-I’m-going-to-frown-and-stare-5-feet-in-front-of-me” routine. Yesterday, a 20 year old told me that he got straight A’s all through primary and secondary school, enrolled in University, and is now unable to take the final exams for the courses he has taken this semester because his school fees have not been paid by the pastor from his church who promised at the beginning of the semester to pay. My first thought is “Is he bullshitting me for money?”

I’m not sure what to do without my emotions; I have been cultivating them, it is a shame that I lost them between there and here. These emotions and their corresponding nuances became things that I could rely on and access as needed.

I believe in the power of primary sources. First person accounts relate much more than I could every summarize. I will tell the stories any way that I can. I am happy to have the video camera to assign a concrete reason to my inquiries. When the “Do you have a husband?” question is fired, it could ricochet in any direction and hit any number of people in the vicinity.