Similarities vs. Differences

As strange as this is going to sound, sometimes I forget I am in Africa. When you live on a different continent with an ocean separating you and others, it is easy to romanticize people and problems. You picture pygmies and wandering nomads. But since arriving here, I feel as if I am in some alternate reality where I am just the constant oddity standing on the outskirts observing. My color and where I had the privilege of being born will never allow me to integrate completely. Yet, much feels similar to home because people are people regardless of place. So many of the problems here are the same as back home. Wealth is perpetuated. Class systems are constantly deepening. People are divided among ethnic lines. Disease cuts down lives long before they should have ended. Granted these problems are manifested in different ways and are far worse in Uganda than in America. However, while there are cultural differences that make finding common ground difficult at times, people all strive for the same things: love, security, and happiness. Our humanity connects all people whether Ugandan, America, French, German, Chinese, or Lebanese. Nonetheless, my mind is at constant war with knowing our similarities outnumber the differences but the differences are enough to eclipse the similarities.

I started work last week and have basically been just playing the role of observer. Kitovu Mobile is well established and run so I am finding it hard to discern a sector where I can leave an impact. The last few days, the counseling branch has taken me out into the field with them. I much prefer this to being in an office. Basically, we drive into the villages and give workshops to parents, teachers, and children about sex, trauma, and certain life skills. This branch of the organization was set up after one of the sisters returned from receiving her masters degree. She had learned about the different effects trauma has on children. Since Kitovu Mobile works with HIV/AIDS support and prevention, they see a lot of children who experience trauma from losing parents to the disease or contracting it themselves. The branch spread out and covers more than just trauma relating to HIV now.

Since I would like to work in the field, I am trying to pick up Luganda quickly. Very few people in the villages are able to speak English. Aside from work, my inability to speak the language has gotten me into a few situations. In Uganda, one of the main forms of transportation is boda bodas, basically dirt bike/motorcycles. They weave in between cars and are the fastest means of getting someplace other than taxis. The second day after moving in with my family, I decided to take a boda home. So I go up to one of the drivers and ask if he speaks English. I receive a non-committal nod that I take to mean yes. We barter. I get on the back, and we set off for home. It should probably have been a bad sign when he headed in the opposite direction but I just told him to turn around and settled in for the ride. Next thing I know, I am sitting in the middle of a cornfield, on the back of a motorcycle, with a man I don’t know. I asked him take me back to Masaka where we began. He then told me he doesn’t know English. Obviously, I managed to get home okay but I have been much more selective of my boda boda drivers since.

Boda Bodas seem to provide a lot of my entertainment here. Another intern, Lyndsie, and I took a boda into town a few nights ago. As we were going up a hill, the boda stutters to a stop and the driver tells us, “sisters, sisters, I am out of gas.” When I was following Lyndsie home one day to see the school she worked at, the boda driver started saying, “mzungu, I want you, I want your love.” Ignoring him didn’t seem to work, and since he was driving I didn’t really want to upset him so I told him, “sitegedde.” (I don’t understand.) He replied with, “otegedde.” (You understand.) For the duration of the ride, we went back and forth with this exchange. Let me say how happy I was when I finally got off that boda boda. I can’t figure out if it is a better idea to just walk places or take a boda boda. But because I know my family reads this blog I am going to throwing in don’t worry, I am being careful.