tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69836006944827267102024-03-13T14:42:58.889+03:00Among the AcaciasBritt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-5893669483839504262011-10-13T15:30:00.004+03:002011-11-15T09:51:46.880+03:00Population MultiplicationIn Uganda, the population is exploding at an incredible rate. This small country, about the size of the state of Oregon, has one of the fastest-growing populations in the world. The average number of children per woman is 7, and while that number is actually a decrease from a previous 10 or 11(!), it doesn’t change the fact that, by 2050, Uganda’s population is expected to grow from its current 33 million to 100 million. <i>100 million people in a country the size of Oregon!</i> Kampala, the capitol city, is already very over-crowded – a PCV friend told me it was initially designed for 500,000 people but is already at around 3 million. The increasing population will burden Uganda’s already inadequate infrastructure and development solutions, including:<br /><br /><b>Land.</b> The majority of Ugandans are currently subsistence farmers who are reliant on owning enough land to grow food for their whole family. Land is already becoming a scarcity for many farmers, and while most still have enough food, that could easily change for millions in the coming years. Subsistence farming is by definition extensive and has much lower productivity then modernized or commercialized farming. While modern, mechanized farming has caused many problems in the U.S., namely environmental, there is no denying that some level of scaling-up of agriculture is necessary to feed a growing population. But can this be done fast enough in Uganda, and effectively enough, to keep up with the increasing number of people?<br /><br /><b>Waste management.</b> All Ugandan roadsides, towns, and cities are covered with trash because there is no formal waste management system. Even in the capitol city, there is trash strewn everywhere, clogging gutters and adding to an already-poor sanitation situation. While most rural Ugandans don’t produce nearly as much household waste as Americans, as they buy most of their food fresh and rarely buy packaged items, the influence of Western societies and increased urbanization is also increasing the amount of trash produced. I still find it shocking, 14 months after arriving here, when people throw their trash out the bus window or even into their own yard… but then I think, where else are they supposed to put it? The main method of dealing with rubbish here is burning it in piles. Even the U.S., with its reliance on landfills, does not have the perfect waste management solution, but at least we have <i>some</i> method to keep trash off our streets and out of our waterways.<br /><br /><b>Education.</b> The education system is already rife with problems, with one of the biggest being too many students and not enough teachers. There is also a lack of actual school buildings and classrooms, with students often squeezed onto small benches in a crowded room that is not conducive to learning. Even within the next decade, there will be millions more children to educate than the system has to currently deal with. Without an education, people are forced to remain subsistence farmers, which, as detailed above, will become increasingly more difficult. Uneducated women will also continue to have many children. It’s hard to say how a timely solution will be found to this problem.<br /><br /><b>Electricity.</b> Uganda already experiences regular rolling blackouts, sometimes for days at a time – and there are still many parts of the country which have no electricity at all. Not only will a larger population require more electricity, but people are increasingly moving to urban areas, and rural areas are demanding that they also be put on the grid.<br /><br /><b>Health.</b> There is already a shortage of doctors, nurses, hospitals, medical equipment and supplies, etc. for the current population level. While an increase in population size will hopefully result in more people also being trained as health workers, it is likely that the increase will not meet the demand.<br /><br />This list could really go on and on. While Uganda has problems now, I can only see them becoming much, much worse if the population continues to grow as it is. Honestly, within a relatively short amount of time (possibly a decade or two), I believe that there will be widespread chronic hunger and that Uganda will once again descend into chaos as people literally fight each other for survival. (And as a quick plug against foreign aid, can I just say that <b>in 2010 alone</b>, Uganda received almost <b>$1.8 BILLION in foreign aid</b> to fix these problems, and nothing ever seems to get better? And President Museveni can hardly blame this lack of results on his predecessors, a common American presidential tactic, as he's been in office since 1986 and has received $31 billion in foreign aid during that time)<br /><br />What’s one solution to slowing down the population explosion? While the provision of family planning (contraceptives) is of course the main tool to reduce the fertility rate, it means nothing if people still desire a large family size. One of the most successful strategies at lowering fertility rates worldwide has not been provision of family planning, forced sterilization, a “one child rule”, etc. but rather increasing girls’ education. By ensuring that girls receive a full education, they are provided with an alternative to simply being a housewife. Women who are educated not only understand the health and economic benefits of having fewer children, but if they work outside the home, they also know that they must have fewer children or forfeit their career. Of course, men also have to be educated to see the benefits of a smaller family and to “allow” their wives to have fewer children, as many women in my village have to hide their contraceptive use from their husbands or risk being beaten. Many refuse to take The Pill, as it is easy for their husband to find out, and only come when the health center has Depo-Provera, the injectable contraceptive they get every 3 months. Gender equality is not just some feminist, 70’s, flower-power concept – it’s absolutely vital for development and even, in Uganda’s case, survival.Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-7719521449378385002011-10-01T09:07:00.011+03:002011-10-01T09:31:21.712+03:00Kenya - Safari Njema<div style="text-align: left;">Since my last post, we had an All Volunteer Conference near Kampala where all the PCVs currently serving in Uganda came together for a couple of days to meet and greet, catch up, and share our stories and ideas.<span> </span>I thought I knew a lot of volunteers here, but it felt like almost half the faces were new to me (we have about 160 PCVs in Uganda).<span> </span>I presented a session on animal husbandry which went well, and we all ate delicious food and enjoyed spending time with one another.</div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">After All Vol, I went with 4 other PCVs from my training group (Becca, Chelsea, Lisa, and Rashida) to KENYA!<span> </span>The trip was absolutely incredible.<span> </span>Nairobi was an impressively-large, much more developed city than Kampala.<span> </span>As we were passing through, I remarked, “Wow, look at all the traffic lights they have!” just as our taxi driver ran a red light.<span> </span>Oh well, nice try Kenya.<span> </span>The people seemed much less muzungu-crazed than in Uganda, and we were called ‘muzungu’ only a handful of times – a very nice break for us.</span></span></p><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">We saw many amazing things in Kenya, but our main obje</span></span>ctive was the Masai Mara National Reserve, which was probably the most amazing safari I’ve ever been on (and I’m privileged to have been on safaris all over East and Southern Africa).<span> </span>On our 4-day safari (with only two full days in the park), we saw 54 lions(!), 4 cheetahs, a leopard, elephants, giraffes, hyenas, ostriches, and hundreds of zebras.<span> </span>While this was all super impressive, the main reason we chose to go to the Masai Mara at this time of year was to see the wildebeest migration, which is featured in countless Discovery Channel and National Geographic documentaries.<span> </span>We were SO lucky to not only see the migration, with literally hundreds of thousands of wildebeest stretching up to the horizon, but we also saw them cross the infamous Mara River!<span> </span>After our safari, we had a chance to visit a Maasai village, which was interesting but of course touristy – at least it was a way for us to take unlimited photos without offending anyone.<span> </span>Overall, this was a once in a lifetime experience, and we are so lucky to have seen all that we did.</p><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4rZUc_bwPkw/ToayaBuuzhI/AAAAAAAAKfA/_dLXqiLM6B4/s400/IMG_4157c.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 149px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658406142048390674" /> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:black">All those black dots?<span> </span>Wildebeest, as far as the eye can see</span></i></span></p><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n0DaGnu954Y/ToayQT8A7-I/AAAAAAAAKe4/ILkCPYWL4uU/s400/IMG_4217.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658405975137251298" /><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:black">Wildebeest crossing the Mara River<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fRSw53jNBVo/ToayHGWPpAI/AAAAAAAAKew/mYqLsBZFCc0/s400/IMG_4263c.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 194px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658405816870347778" /> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:black">Zebra being attacked by a crocodile!!! (surprisingly, the zebra got away and seemed fine)<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:black"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><i><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oZGwQtFGi4k/Toax7ciP-xI/AAAAAAAAKeo/63HkPgk6bkU/s400/IMG_4555c.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658405616667851538" /></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:black">An elusive leopard<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:black"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0RXmCqWwtE8/ToaxuYFjHyI/AAAAAAAAKeg/QGqEuVNDWgM/s400/IMG_4278.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658405392135429922" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:black"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></span><i><span style="color:black"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><i><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yBrzBM3MV88/ToaxjkjWfSI/AAAAAAAAKeY/G3gNre_tDJ4/s400/IMG_4727cbw.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658405206503095586" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:black">A Maasai woman<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><i><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lyusCaCGSPQ/ToaxXw8EUlI/AAAAAAAAKeQ/Cw3PuS50X3A/s400/111_7326.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658405003669557842" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:black">The “Kenya Kitties”<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">When I came back to site after Kenya, the road into my village was flooded!<span> </span>I thought the taxi drivers had been joking when they said the road was impassable, but when I arrived at dusk, I had to wade through 100+ yards of water that sometimes reached halfway up my thigh (I’m short, but still!).<span> </span>Thankfully my house was nowhere near the danger zone and the water soon receded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JkS03x5QVkA/Toaw-IpOW-I/AAAAAAAAKeI/qZ2HPZtR60M/s400/P1020913sm.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658404563356376034" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color:black">The water the next morning, <u>after</u> it had already gone done significantly!<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">I also recently had a chance to help train the newest group of trainees (who will soon swear in to be Peace Corps Volunteers).<span> </span>I talked about malaria prevention and what PCVs in Uganda did to celebrate World Malaria Day and raise awareness in our communities.<span> </span>I’m also coordinating with two local schools to do the World Map Project, through which the students will paint a giant map of the world on a wall of the school.<span> </span>One school is definitely on board, so we should start work next weekend.<span> </span>I’m really excited to get this going, as this is a project I’ve wanted to do since the beginning of service.<span> </span>The goal of the project is not only to increase the students’ knowledge about geography (which is very limited for even educated Ugandans), but to help them with critical thinking, creativity, mathematical methods such as drawing a grid system, and to build confidence by completing a big project that will be a beautiful, permanent fixture of the school.<span> </span>I’ll post photos as our map develops!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p></div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-47126926765179581542011-08-21T18:39:00.002+03:002011-08-22T12:34:51.878+03:00Camp GLOW<div style="text-align: left;">Last week was the most rewarding experience in my Peace Corps service yet – Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) for southwest Uganda! Camp GLOW is designed to help empower girls in their early teens and give them confidence, leadership skills, and help show them the fullness of their potential. It was started by Peace Corps Volunteers in Romania in 1995 and has been spreading around the world ever since. Uganda had its first nationwide Camp GLOW in December 2010, and this camp was meant to target girls from all over the southwestern region.</div><div>
<br /><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NmEDpm10w6Y/TlIfxny6EkI/AAAAAAAAKd4/xyoiu_3TNzs/s400/P1020730.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643608220405207618" /><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div>It was an intense week – the counselors all arrived on Saturday to prepare for the camp (there were 8 PCVs plus 8 young Ugandans who are studying to be primary school teachers (PTC students), then co-directors/staff that included 6 more PCVs and 3 Ugandans). The campers arrived on Monday evening in the school truck (a big lorry/truck where the students stand in the back), and even though it was cold and pouring down rain, all the counselors ran out to greet them cheering. Girls were assigned to groups named after animals, and each group was led by one PCV and one PTC student (we were the Elephants). However, chaos quickly ensued as the girls tried to find their counselors, we realized almost none of them had brought blankets and some of them didn’t even have sheets or sweaters, and we knew that night would be cold. Eventually, we got things sorted out, and went for dinner and a sort of “opening ceremony”, including a song that the counselors sang about GLOW and girls’ empowerment set to the tune of “Rude Boy” by Rihanna (awkward original lyrics for kids but really awesome new lyrics for</div><div> GLOW written by one of the co-directors – “Come on GLOW girl girl show us what you’ve got – show it show it, lady lady, show it show it, shinin’ shinin’!). More chaos happened at 3AM when yours truly went for a “short call” to the latrine – the campers heard the dorm door open and thought it was time to get up (none of them had watches or phones to see the time), so started bathing, getting dressed, etc. We were all sleeping in triple-decker bunk beds so when a few people are up, everyone gets woken up.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div>The days were so busy after that! Wake up call was at 6AM (unless the girls woke up early at 3 or 4:30 haha), then activities ran until 10PM every day. The camp was filled with sessions about health (HIV, reproductive health and sex, nutrition and sanitation), life skills (goal setting, decision making and assertiveness, self-esteem), leadership (gender roles, public speaking, bringing Camp GLOW home), and arts and crafts (making a team flag, piggy banks/money jars, and a vision board – “Picture Yourself in 10 Years”). In addition, we had tons of games and competitions like the human knot, telephone, a blindfolded obstacle course, relay races, sports, and more. All of them helped the girls develop leadership, communication, and problem solving skills in addition to being lots of fun. (Although for my team, the blindfolded obstacle course was a disaster – only two girls from the group of 8 led the blind-folded girl and didn’t really guide her, meaning she fell off chairs, aimlessly kicked at the soccer ball because nobody guided her</div><div> foot or held the ball, and when they got to the potato/rice sack, simply stopped her in front of it and told her to get into it…). The education system here is all lectures and rote memorization, even from the age of 4 or 5, and there’s really no critical thinking or problem solving to be had, so these skills are so important to foster in these girls. By far their favorite game was Capture the Flag at night – so fun! I felt like I was back at YMCA camp or band camp, haha. The best part was that the quietest girl in my group was the one who captured the flag – talk about a confidence booster! But we all joked that the PCVs had a disadvantage – it took moving to Africa to realize white people glow at night even when there’s no moon.</div><div>
<br /><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eZ4vuogbo_A/TlIOylc285I/AAAAAAAAKdg/-21163sJIuw/s400/P1020707.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643589545258054546" /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Blindfolded obstacle course</i></div>
<br /><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tyc-hnLib-Q/TlIOKoBU6qI/AAAAAAAAKdY/D8SeFfKiEXU/s400/P1020721.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643588858753116834" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The Floor is Lava! Getting teams of 20+ people across the hall with two basins, two rice sacks, and two pieces of cardboard</i></div><div>
<br /></div><div>We also had reading time, speeches by strong, successful women, trivia, and even a fashion show where the campers dressed up the 3 male PCVs in women’s clothing and the boys strutted their stuff – soooo funny (and I don’t think Ugandans have ever seen cross dressers before). We even had a Disney movie night and watched Mulan, which has a strong message about gender roles but unfortunately most of the girls didn’t understand what was going on. I think the PCVs may have enjoyed the Disney night more than the campers, and we realized we’ve been in Africa wayyy too long when the main male (cartoon!) character takes his shirt off and we all swooned hahaha. Whenever we weren’t doing a formal activity, we were playing little games, singing songs (each animal group made their own theme song), and trying to stay busy and energetic.<div>
<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BtjhTIq1Feg/TlINpepaYcI/AAAAAAAAKdQ/ibF1yx58o_Y/s400/P1020731c.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 187px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643588289301209538" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>My Elephant Group</i></div><div>
<br />The most amazing thing was the change we could see in the girls. I really didn’t think we would see a tangible difference in 3 days, but it was like night and day. When they arrived, they were quiet, shy, didn’t make eye contact, and frankly looked scared (part of it just being in a new place, part of it being the way most Ugandan girls are). Over the course of the camp, you could see the girls making friends, taking pride in accomplishing something completely new for them (like any of the team competitions/games), and started to become more vocal. After the closing ceremony on the third day, the girls had so much energy, they were bouncing off the walls, danced without a care in the world, and even at 11pm it was hard to get them to stop talking, giggling, etc. to go to bed. It was so amazing to see this difference in them. My favorite girl, a very intelligent and well-spoken girl who always smiled at everything I said even when the other girls were shut-off and non-responsive, wrote me a letter at the end of camp that almost made me cry, thanking me for everything and saying I was “the best counselor of all the rest” and “I promise that I will always remember you and always take into account what I have learnt from this camp…I wish you a safe stay throughout your life till ends meet. Your loving elephant, Joventah.”
<br />
<br /><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p_CWWHyj0ek/TlINQGr1dwI/AAAAAAAAKdI/hSF62K4sBpY/s400/P1020820.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643587853372192514" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>By the end of Camp GLOW – full of energy and confidence</i></div><div>
<br />During the camp, I felt like who I used to be before Peace Corps (a sentiment expressed by other PCVs, too). I felt like I was needed and necessary, constantly busy, and full of energy and enthusiasm. All of these were feelings I haven’t had in a very long time. I was exhausted by the end but felt like my sense of purpose had been refilled. Considering how low I’ve felt about service for a couple of months, this was just what the doctor ordered. I also enjoyed feeling like a little kid again for a few days – summer camp rocks. :)
<br /><div>
<br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o47q9_di7Ss/TlIF99DZpjI/AAAAAAAAKc4/bsVjYq2b74w/s400/P1020798.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643579844967638578" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-9931173393693885452011-08-06T13:25:00.016+03:002011-11-12T08:06:38.750+03:00World Spins Madly On<div align="left">A couple of weeks ago, we got a TV and satellite at our Epicenter to act as an IGA (income-generating activity) for our programs. People are supposed to pay 500-700 shillings (20-40 cents) to watch a program, usually football matches, yet, unsurprisingly, there have been several times lately when nobody paid and so The Hunger Project is footing the bill for the generator’s fuel, rather than actually making money as is the whole idea behind an IGA. Regardless, I realized when we turned on the TV for the first time, and people were treated to music videos, news, and National Geographic, that this small window to the rest of the world changes everything. I watched as the villagers gasped at women wearing shorts, nice cars, and rich nuclear Ugandan families in commercials, and this view of life outside the village is one that most of these people have never had before. Viewing these things is exposing them to the modern world, which is a double-edged sword – on one hand they are learning about the bigger picture and gaining new ideas but they are also losing a part of their way of life along the way. Whether you think this exposure is positive or negative, it’s definitely a change that will be there forever.<br /><br />Also, newly-named game popular among PCVs that I had unknowingly been playing for months: “Goat or Baby?” Here in the village, there are lots of goats and lots of children (the average family has 7 children around here!). I frequently hear loud, high-pitched wails coming from nearby, and it always causes one to pause and think, “Goat or baby?” because the two sound remarkably alike sometimes. Just another way to pass the time.<br /><br />We recently had a 1st birthday party for Amanya, my next-door neighbor (Gertrude)’s daughter. I made a yellow cake with chocolate frosting all from scratch, and without a real oven! I’m using a tried-and-true PCV technique of using a dutch oven (big pot with a lid, then inside you put the cake pan on big rocks or sand for conduction and airflow), so I baked a cake over firewood! It was delicious. After having tea, popcorn, peanuts, and cake, we all watched <em>Beauty and the Beast</em>, although I think they found the movie just plain confusing (a big creature they've never seen before? Dancing candlesticks and clocks? What is this?).</div><div align="left"><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637694240009700114" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MGk5V6Qqy78/Tj0dCqALQxI/AAAAAAAAKcw/otHezXk547k/s400/Amanya%2527s%2B1st%2BBirthday.JPG" /><p align="center"><em>Tiny baby, big knife</em></p><p align="left">Baking the cake gave me confidence, so the next day I tried making pita bread using yeast (I have never made bread before in my life) – pretty easy and it came out super delicious! I dipped it in olive oil and basil with some balsamic vinegar that I splurged on in Kampala. If I can do all this in an African village with like 4 ingredients, imagine what I can do with access to an American grocery store!</p><p></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637692842148137474" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3TLaP-KB40I/Tj0bxSkAigI/AAAAAAAAKco/cPqEMDttQe4/s400/P1020681.JPG" /> <p align="center"><em>Homemade pita bread… mmm mmm good!</em></p><p align="left">Projects! I’ve got a few things going on, including trying to start a support group for HIV-positive community members. I decided to try to start a support group while at the funeral of a friend who died of AIDS. As I was at the burial, I looked around and saw at least 2 or 3 other people I know to be HIV-positive, and I’m sure many others were in attendance, and I just couldn’t imagine the fear, loneliness, and hopelessness they must have been feeling. I also asked people to submit proposals for a Peace Corps grant we can apply for, and the general consensus was to do a goat project, where we distribute goats, and those recipients pass on the first female offspring to another person in the community. I feel unoriginal with this since a neighboring PCV just did a similar project with goats, but I’m happy to have an animal project to work on! I’m still teaching health and life skills at the primary schools, and am planning to do the “World Map Project”, which was started by a PCV in the Dominican Republic in 1988, with one of the schools next term. We will paint a huge map of the world on the side of the school, increasing awareness of geography and the world but also instilling in the students a sense of accomplishment, leadership, critical thinking, etc. since they have never done anything like this before. I recently visited a friend’s site where they were completing the World Map Project, and I noticed that the girls doing the project were outgoing, independent, not afraid to ask questions, etc., which is very unusual for young Ugandan girls in the village. When I mentioned this to my friend, he said they used to be shy and never spoke up, but this project had completely changed them.</p><p align="left">In true Peace Corps style, though, I haven't been super busy at site (although I've been attending all kinds of workshops, etc. away from my village lately), so I've gotten into quite a few TV shows - currently catching up on <em>The Office</em> and <em>Grey's Anatomy</em>, finished the 2nd seasons of <em>Glee </em>and <em>Modern Family </em>(probably my current favorite show), getting into <em>30 Rock</em>, and have a few more on the docket.<br /><br />Also it's official - I'll be home for Christmas!! Counting down the days - in just over 4 months I'll be State-side! I'm imagining holiday decor everywhere (especially wreaths on streetlamps, since we don't even have streetlamps here), hopefully snow for the true winter wonderland (come on Cincinnati), decorating the tree, eating amaaaazing American food, and seeing how I react to freezing temperatures now that I have turned African and put on a sweater when it's 68 degrees out. Can't wait! </p>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-12043517562764997562011-07-14T18:33:00.007+03:002011-07-14T18:54:41.053+03:00Maama Wangye omuri Uganda<div style="text-align: left;">Mom’s visit was fantastic.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She flew into Entebbe, then we spent one night at a beautiful boutique hotel before heading to my house the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>When we arrived in my village, I was amazed by our reception – a big group of women (and a few men) singing, dancing, and drumming, and repeatedly saying how thankful they were that I brought my mother to visit them.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My neighbors and a few friends also prepared a welcome dinner of traditional Ugandan foods for us.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Amazing!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was so proud of my village and felt incredibly loved.</div><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">While we were in my village, we actually stayed pretty busy, which is rare haha.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>One day for lunch we went to the house of the Epicenter Chairman (basically the community leader for The Hunger Project’s work) for lunch and were treated to an amazing spread – matooke, posho, millet, potatoes, chicken, dodo (greens), and delicious pineapple fresh from his garden.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>His wife even gave each of us a handmade necklace.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Another evening, we walked deep into the village to see a friend’s newborn baby who they named after me (Kamusiime).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Mom also brought a donated microscope with her which we presented to the community – they are really excited about the potential to have malaria and TB testing in their village very soon.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Mom also came with us to one of the immunization outreaches.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Every night, we watched movies curled up on my </span></span>couch – felt like old times from my childhood.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">One of our adventures away from my site took us across the border to northwest Rwanda at the base of the Virunga volcanoes (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">most</i> of which are inactive).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>First of all, Rwanda is so much cleaner and more organized than Uganda!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The roads are paved with streetlamps and shoulders that have gravel (i.e. not muddy grossness).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Every Saturday, people are required to close their shops for 2 hours and clean up their communities, so there is virtually no trash, whereas in Uganda the amount of ‘rubbish’ on the ground is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">disgusting</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Also, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">boda boda</i> (motorcycle taxi) drivers wear helmets and safety vests, are limited to carrying one passenger (whereas in Uganda I have seen 3 adult passengers plus the driver on a motorcycle before), <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">and</i> they carry an extra helmet for their passenger!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The president, Paul Kagame, has also outlawed plastic bags.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>These little differences are like night and day between Rwanda and its northern neighbor </span></span>Uganda.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">But the main highlight of our trip to Rwanda wasn’t the cleanliness or str</span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">uggling through speaking French or remembering which way to look when crossing the street (I automatically now look right before I look left, but Rwandans drive on the same side of the road as Americans) – it was seeing the mountain gorillas!!!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Our adventure involved an easy hike through farmland and then through the forest as we entered Volcanoes National Park (part of an ecosystem spanning Uganda, Rwanda, and the Democratic Republic of Congo).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We had heard that finding the gorillas can take hours of hiking through ankle-deep mud up steep hills and hacking through </span></span>stinging nettles, but our experience was more like walking in the park on a sunny morning.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>After only about 45 minutes of walking, we found the Kwitonda gorilla group.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Our first sighting was a young blackback male, and it was astounding to see this massive black ape sitting only yards away from us – no fences, no barriers of any kind.</p><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PpyEijK3O7w/Th8QexrlT_I/AAAAAAAAKb4/Q_HSLlXLMeY/s400/IMG_2936.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629236180154666994" /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CZAiOZz-2TQ/Th8QXFAZ7oI/AAAAAAAAKbw/Uv3Q_pdvh88/s400/P1020524.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629236047903321730" /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">During the next hour, we were continuously amazed by what was happening.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>W</span></span>hile we are supposed to maintain a 7-meter distance between us and the gorillas (mostly to prevent disease transmission between humans and gorillas), at times the gorillas walked right up to us.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>One silverback wandered right through the middle of our group – I could have literally reached out and touched him had I thought it a wise idea.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We saw three silverbacks, youngsters of all ages (including a five-month-old infant), mothers with ‘toddlers’ – all in all, the group has 21 members, the 3<sup>rd</sup> largest gorilla group in the park.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The gorillas were mostly moving around and eating and, incredibly, just about completely ignored us.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We were entertained by watching one youngster hang from a vine and use his/her foot to push off from a tree to spin around, presumably just for fun.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Gorillas make a deep “Hmm-hmmmm” sound to mean “everything is okay”, and it was amazing to sometimes hear it coming from all around us, even from gorillas we couldn’t actually see.</p><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jUfaD3EAjVM/Th8QIbmSBEI/AAAAAAAAKbo/C-N9Fn5Sx_g/s400/IMG_3069.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629235796269728834" /><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bz-4t0d5DF0/Th8P4lGqb4I/AAAAAAAAKbg/v7FidlLqfFU/s400/IMG_2984.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629235523943559042" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">Just as our hour was almost up, the head silverback, Kwitonda himself, got up and walked within feet of us, all 400 or so pounds of silver and black bulk, and headed off for a new section of the forest as the rest of the group followed.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The fact that they, too, were moving on made it easier to leave.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I could have easily spent all day watching them, and it felt like we had just arrived when we started heading back to the trailhead.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This was easily one of the most amazing animal encounters I’ve ever had.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z41yuPDHqLs/Th8NkOf0V1I/AAAAAAAAKbY/hseM640LLD8/s400/P1000312.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629232975254411090" /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">After Mom left, it was a rough transition back to site.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I had been frustrated with things before she came, then everything was wonderful while she was visiting until I got a phone call from my organization on Wednesday telling me to come to a staff retreat in Kampala on Friday, my mom’s last day in Uganda, prompting a huge wave of frustration (this is the first staff meeting they’ve ever asked me to come to in the 8 months I’ve been at site) and actually made way for waves of fairly serious depression in the week or two following that.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At home, I’m a normally bubbly, happy person all the time, so depression of any severity is abnormal and a bit scary for me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>However, now I’m getting busier again, and I got support from Peace Corps and other volunteers on how to push through this low (and talking to them, I realize most of us are in a rough spot right now, probably the “mid-service slump” a little bit early or the 6-month-slump a little late).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s nice to hear I’m not alone.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">Things have been getting back to normal now and I finally feel I’ve leveled out – part of it may be that I stopped taking mefloquine, the original malaria prophylaxis I had been on, which is known to have psychological side effects.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I finally bought a guitar after talking about it for months and am starting to learn how to play – even though I’m just picking out a few notes and chords, it’s already fun and relaxing.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’ve been going on walks with Kibo through the village which are not only relaxing and fun for both of us, but also seem to be the only way her anxiety issues seem to get better.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I am already researching how to bring her back to the U.S. with me – seems pretty straightforward, just need to get proof of rabies vaccination and an approved crate to ship her in.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">This week, I’ve been at a Peace Corps conference with many of my best friends in-country to learn about malaria as part of the new Presidential Malaria Initiative (PMI).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Some of the sessions have been disappointing as they often are when led by Ugandans – not sure why I expected anything different.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>One of the main speakers, the director for Uganda’s national malaria control program, was not only pompous, but was giving false information, including stating that DDT not only prevents cancer, but that it didn’t kill bald eagles, the “Red Indians ate them.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He also indicated that where you take a blood sample (fingertips vs. arm) affects whether you can detect malaria parasites upon testing, which is completely false.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Thankfully, most of us knew this and called his bluff, but we all were quickly fed up.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Perhaps it is because this man is so prominent in the public health field in Uganda, and that I kept calling him out, that the Peace Corps community health program manager told me I should get a Ph.D. in public health and write a book, haha.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Some of the other sessions were much more worthwhile, and the conference is great simply from the fact that I get to see some of my closest friends who I haven’t seen in several months, and we get hot showers, DSTV, and a swimming pool, all on American taxpayers.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Thanks!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">We did bring up more issues of foreign aid and dependency at this workshop, though.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We discussed how people given free mosquito nets (the norm from things like Global Fund and USAID) sometimes use them for things like bridal gowns or fishing nets, and the fact that the nets are procured abroad means that local businesses are severely hurt by this influx of free nets.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There’s a small mosquito net factory in Kampala – how are they expected to compete in such an environment?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Also, since malaria drugs at government health centers are free, people have little incentive to prevent malaria by sleeping under a mosquito net, covering their windows and vents with screens, clearing stagnant water, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Why make the effort to prevent malaria if treatment is free?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I am now pretty much completely against any type of handout or free anything (including foreign aid in the form of grants, and possibly even loans since the debt gets forgiven) and think the future truly lies in investment and supporting local businesses.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My friends and I joke that Peace Corps is actually making us more conservative (at least in the economic sense).</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">The next couple of months are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">busy!</i><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>In a couple of weeks, I have a training near Kampala to teach me how to train the new group coming in August, then hopefully helping with a Peace Camp in the north, teaching the new group of trainees, going to the All Volunteer Conference (every volunteer in Uganda comes together for a few days), then off to Kenya for the migration in the Masai Mara and delightful modern delights in Nairobi (including several rumored sushi restaurants!). <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>After that, it’s only a little while until our mid-service conference at the end of October. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The days here move slowly but the weeks fly by.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-39666273027527365912011-06-05T12:27:00.008+03:002011-06-26T09:53:24.244+03:00Recent Photos<div style="text-align: left;">Waiting to go pick up my mom at the airport (she lands in an hour!) and our super-nice hotel has super-fast internet, so I'll upload some pics I've been meaning to for a long time:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-npTaDgC5smo/TetOftc0sNI/AAAAAAAAKag/xyRhddXIxwg/s400/228297_706230296812_15107486_36300756_2787005_n.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614667667130855634" /><div style="text-align: center;">Mural painted at the Peace Corps 50th Celebration</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t1tBH3TadA8/TetOfX27FlI/AAAAAAAAKaY/J7HbRWJw4Eg/s1600/IMG_2726e.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t1tBH3TadA8/TetOfX27FlI/AAAAAAAAKaY/J7HbRWJw4Eg/s1600/IMG_2726e.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t1tBH3TadA8/TetOfX27FlI/AAAAAAAAKaY/J7HbRWJw4Eg/s400/IMG_2726e.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614667661334746706" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Queen Elizabeth National Park</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1YTvekyT7xo/TetOfGsiAuI/AAAAAAAAKaQ/a9pHQgMjF_U/s1600/IMG_2620c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1YTvekyT7xo/TetOfGsiAuI/AAAAAAAAKaQ/a9pHQgMjF_U/s400/IMG_2620c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614667656727757538" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Lioness, Queen Elizabeth National Park</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7QcOH3T2CUQ/TetOep3fU8I/AAAAAAAAKaI/tLfvR12gP4E/s1600/IMG_2565e.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7QcOH3T2CUQ/TetOep3fU8I/AAAAAAAAKaI/tLfvR12gP4E/s400/IMG_2565e.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614667648989090754" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Elephant with the Rwenzori Mountains, Queen Elizabeth National Park</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MxB-TPO5U88/TetOeG6CEDI/AAAAAAAAKaA/fRux8FBPqWE/s1600/P1020337.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MxB-TPO5U88/TetOeG6CEDI/AAAAAAAAKaA/fRux8FBPqWE/s400/P1020337.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614667639604514866" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Peace Garden - our team's project at the Peace Corps 50th</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V_766ABML_8/TetNRcTeI2I/AAAAAAAAKZ4/x4konpnwYo0/s1600/P1020488.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V_766ABML_8/TetNRcTeI2I/AAAAAAAAKZ4/x4konpnwYo0/s400/P1020488.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614666322498429794" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Children dancing in my village</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-avumHe3uXzI/TetNRWgSibI/AAAAAAAAKZw/71CdhfapkHU/s1600/P1020368cbw.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-avumHe3uXzI/TetNRWgSibI/AAAAAAAAKZw/71CdhfapkHU/s400/P1020368cbw.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614666320941582770" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Kibo</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yz9CeROeto4/TetNRPFbkeI/AAAAAAAAKZo/B4CsW1qyweA/s1600/P1020396.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yz9CeROeto4/TetNRPFbkeI/AAAAAAAAKZo/B4CsW1qyweA/s400/P1020396.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614666318949880290" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">a HUGE puff adder at the agricultural college where I've been teaching (it's dead)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q9qJdroQWpY/TetMsj3zqdI/AAAAAAAAKZg/zLgMB1Hk9kw/s1600/P1020279.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q9qJdroQWpY/TetMsj3zqdI/AAAAAAAAKZg/zLgMB1Hk9kw/s400/P1020279.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614665688874723794" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The kids at the Epicenter nursery school</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jeWOplxyVQ8/TetMsT-ZUrI/AAAAAAAAKZY/f6fnSj2E3Mo/s1600/P1020256.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jeWOplxyVQ8/TetMsT-ZUrI/AAAAAAAAKZY/f6fnSj2E3Mo/s400/P1020256.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614665684607390386" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My supervisor, James (left), with our Epicenter chairman at his matooke plantation</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4HJD5VE5dqY/TetMsE8y_mI/AAAAAAAAKZQ/gDiPiGJvwC8/s1600/IMG_2416c.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4HJD5VE5dqY/TetMsE8y_mI/AAAAAAAAKZQ/gDiPiGJvwC8/s400/IMG_2416c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614665680574152290" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kgB_FbEvobs/TetMsEASGjI/AAAAAAAAKZI/zksHUBS5k3s/s1600/P1020153_1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kgB_FbEvobs/TetMsEASGjI/AAAAAAAAKZI/zksHUBS5k3s/s400/P1020153_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614665680320338482" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Women weighing their babies at our monthly immunization day</div><div><br /></div></div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-19258018492437799442011-06-05T06:32:00.000+03:002011-06-05T06:54:28.207+03:00Banywani na NshongaPCVs currently serving have all heard stories of how rattling reverse culture shock can really be. Reverse culture shock refers to returning to your home country/culture after spending time abroad and finding that you don’t quite fit in as well as you used to, at least at first, and that the way Americans do things is actually now shocking to you. I’ve heard stories of RPCVs (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers) breaking down in the cereal aisle, amazed by the ridiculously huge variety before them. Others have become “that weird guy who greets everyone” because in many of the cultures where PCVs serve, greeting neighbors or even people you don’t know on the street is just what you do. I was watching <i>God Grew Tired of Us</i>, a documentary about refugees from Sudan who are relocated to the U.S., and I felt so bad for them when they went up to people’s houses just to greet them and ask about the neighborhood, and the homeowners were so nervous they called the police. Whenever a group of PCVs gets together at someone’s house, we spend hours raving if that person has a toilet and running water (I’ve even heard rumors that a few lucky PCVs even have things like <i>ovens</i> and one person has a <i>fireplace?!</i>), so I wonder how long I will marvel at modern conveniences when I get home – at our house we have <i>three</i> toilets, <i>three</i> hot showers, a refrigerator, a microwave, an oven, several TVs, heat, air conditioning, a fireplace, fast internet… even the thought of all those luxuries is overwhelming right now. It’s hard to say what will cause me to break down, but a cry fest at the grocery store or Target (another PCV and I have a specific fantasy – driving to Target in our own car while drinking a Starbucks latte) doesn’t scare me as much as the idea that I will be some kind of weird maladjusted citizen who doesn’t fit in.<br /><br />Kibo is doing great – she’s now 8 months old and pretty big! I was worried about whether I’d be able to take her back to the U.S. because of how nervous she gets around new places and strangers, but I’ve discovered a few important things. First of all, she’s racist (lol). She is super afraid of Ugandan men she doesn’t know (barks her head off then runs away when they get too close), is curious about Ugandan women she doesn’t know, but she almost instantly loves any white PCV that comes to visit, man or woman, and is all over them right away! She’s already very affectionate with people she is familiar with, Ugandan or American, man or woman. And I think her anxiety with new places or walking through the trading center is the number of strange Ugandan men that she doesn’t know. I’ve been taking her on walks up little paths, between farms and where there aren’t too many people, and as soon as we’re away from the main road she visibly relaxes, becomes her happy-go-lucky self, and has a great time running around. The other evening we took a long walk and somehow picked up a caboose of 5 or 6 small children walking with us for over an hour. They didn’t say much but mostly just giggled at Kibo and ran away screaming if she tried to play with them. Definitely an “I live in Africa” moment when you walk through the village with a bunch of kids. Plus, I just don’t think I have the heart to leave Kibo here when I go back to the U.S. – she’s sometimes a piece of work but I love her and she’s coming home with me.<br /><br />In my village, my best friend is probably my next-door neighbor, Gertrude, who is one of the nurses at the health center. She speaks the best English, understands most of my jokes and just seems to get me more than most Ugandans. She has a 10-month-old daughter named Amanya Ruth, and she is soooo cute! I’ve never watched a baby grow up like this, as I’ve seen her almost every day since she was 3 months old, and it’s so cool to watch her learn to stand, start to say words, learn how to smile, etc.<br /><br />I was recently traveling by taxi (aka crowded minibus) to my friend’s site in the central region near Kampala. The woman sitting very close beside me kept nodding off to sleep, and every time her head thunked into my shoulder (not just brushed by actually head-butted me), she wouldn’t exactly pull away and would sometimes linger there. I know she was aware of what was happening, and was astonished because I know that I would be mortified if my sleepy head kept landing on a stranger’s shoulder. So I decided to start shoving my shoulder back into her head every time she lingered for more than a few seconds. Well, the ladies in the row behind me noticed it and burst into laughter every time I bonked the lady’s head away from me, and pretty soon my friend and I were also laughing hysterically. It was a very happy moment after a rough week – despite the fact that I didn’t want the lady to actually be sleeping on me, the fact that I had a moment with some Ugandan women without saying a word – a completely cross-cultural, all-humans-are-the-same moment – just made me so happy that I can’t describe it in words. It’s little moments like that, usually a shared laugh, that help put things in perspective and see the goodness in people, despite all the frustrations that naturally arise when two cultures collide.<div><br /></div><div>I needed something to help me feel good about Ugandans and my life here, and remind me of the positive side of things. This last week was very rough because of so many different thing adding up to frustrate me. First of all, my counterpart and supervisor haven't informed me of very important things (such as not being able to translate for a women's health workshop or that the new country director was coming to visit). I bought a new lock for our rainwater tank (which is finally full! no more going to the stream for me for a while) and gave keys to my neighbor and the maintenance man, who sometimes does his laundry here, and who I thought I could trust, and found out that he had given more than 5 people full jerrycans of water without asking us about it (and most of the people who received water were young pretty girls...). The word on the street was that Kahinda was now giving everyone free water from the tank. I felt like my trust had been so betrayed and I was irate. Finally, I had already had greediness, etc. on my mind (see my previous post), so when an NGO came to build two 20,000 liter rainwater tanks for the community's use and asked people to help haul lumber and water for construction, and people were refusing to help without payment, I had just about had it. The community is getting a free source of safe water and they won't give up 10 minutes of their time to help?? And I gave up 2 years of my life (and delayed vet school by 3) to volunteer to help these same people? Ugh! I've rarely been so frustrated and fed up. This week was when I most seriously considered ETing (early termination - quitting) because of how frustrated I was by how irresponsible/selfish/whatever people were being. However, I'm happy to report that spending a few days with PCV friends has drastically improved my mood, so I won't be quitting anytime soon. It was just one of those weeks - they happen to everyone here.<br /><br />And another mood booster - my mom is flying in <i><b><u>today</u></b></i> and I am soooo excited!! I’ll pick her up in Entebbe this afternoon and then head to my village with her tomorrow. Updates on our adventures together in a few weeks!</div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-73876409295083692152011-05-28T17:13:00.002+03:002011-05-29T09:21:36.765+03:00Foreign Aid, Dependency, and CorruptionBeing here in Uganda, I have lost a great deal of faith in large NGOs and foreign aid. While I am still (and always will be) learning about international development, my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer has helped me to see the harm which can come from international donors, and has me questioning almost every type of foreign assistance currently being provided. I apologize if this post comes across as overly negative, but this is a huge problem here and I can’t emphasize the importance of how these issues are impacting Uganda’s future.<br /><br />One of the biggest problems I see is the mentality of people here in regards to how they see themselves and their communities, which I believe mostly stems from the large influx of foreign aid into Uganda. The mindset is one of powerlessness and dependency. Whenever I make a suggestion on a different way of doing things (like that the community work together to conserve their water supplies for the dry season, or even simple requests like starting a meeting on time) people say things like, “We Africans can’t do that. Black people don’t behave that way. Our problem is…” For instance, many of the most successful and lucrative small businesses, such as supermarkets, are owned by Indians, which many Ugandans chalk up to Indians being “business people” and alluding to the idea that Africans lack some natural ability to run good businesses. I don’t know if this mindset is a product of lack of education, foreign aid providing everything, having the perception that all white people are rich and all black people are poor, being told they are “poor uneducated Africans” making them believe themselves to be at the lowest rung of society’s ladder, or a combination of a variety of factors, but this mentality is very troubling. In fact, I would hazard to guess that this is a major reason the much of Africa continues to lag behind most other parts of the world in terms of development (the word “development” has a different definition for everyone, and there are countless books that try to define exactly what “development” is, but here I use it to refer to indicators of human rights and quality of life, such as life expectancy, access to health care and prevalence of communicable diseases, literacy and education rates, access to clean water, etc.). Rather than trying to solve problems themselves, Africans have been told they are poor, they are uneducated, they need the help of Westerners to make their lives better, etc. so many don’t even try to improve their lives without outside help. Many even describe an epidemic of laziness stemming from being given so much from outside. Why would anyone work to improve their lives when they can just get a handout? As several people have pointed out, Uganda (and many other African countries) has plenty of natural resources, land for cultivating, enough rainfall, good soil, mineral wealth, etc. but yet people go hungry and live in poverty. One Indian man who has been living here for 5 years boiled it all down to laziness.<br /><br />When a Western donor comes to visit to check things out, the local branches of the organization he/she is funding of course rave about their work and make it sound like they’re doing amazing things, sometimes even lying about activities – and it makes sense when you realize that the very well-paid jobs held by staff members of these organizations would be jeopardized if the donors realized how ineffective many of their donations have truly been. Yes, we always talk about ourselves and our work in the best way possible (I’m also guilty there), but it is commonplace for NGOs to blatantly lie about programs they have been conducting so that the aid money keeps coming. A lot of money seems to be spent on paying a driver to lug around “field officers” in a shining white SUV, spending an exorbitant amount of money on a vehicle and fuel that could be instead shunted to community projects. For example, my organization drives for hours every day to conduct field work because the staff members live in a major urban center more than 1 hour away from the catchment area of their projects.<br /><br />I also feel that foreign aid contributes to corruption, even down to the level of the individual within society, due to the huge influx of money that everyone wants to get their hands on. Community members sometimes don’t attend educational events hosted by my organization, such as workshops about HIV or malaria, if they know they won’t receive something tangible (a soda, lunch, or just plain money) in return, and villagers know how to beef up a budget proposal for their community-based organization (CBO) to get more money than they actually need for their operations – some of which ends up spent on new clothes, alcohol, school fees, soda or street food, etc. While things like school fees and clothing are needed by the local people, it doesn’t mean that lying about the allocation of funds, and thus using corrupt practices, is acceptable. Several Peace Corps Volunteers who are working for NGOs have complained that budget proposals sent to international donors are blatant lies or include figures which the organization has purposely padded and made no attempt to make cost-effective. For example, we asked some community members to draft a proposal for funding a fruit demonstration garden. Their original proposal suggested far more plants than could fit on the land where they want to grow them, budgeted about $350 to transport seedlings from Mbarara when we already have most of the seedlings in our nursery bed here, and asked for a very large salary when these workers are volunteers and are working for their own benefit and the improvement of their own community. Their original proposal called for $4,677, while my supervisor figured we could meet all our objects for about $1,200 (which is probably still more than is necessary).<br /><br />A lot of community projects fail because when a project is started to generate income for the community/NGO, someone ends up pocketing at least some portion of it. Maybe it’s impossible for me to understand the type of desperation that comes from poverty due to lack of personal experience, but the level of dishonesty when it comes to money in almost every situation in Uganda astounds me. We’re currently trying to come up with some income-generating activities that the community can do to continue The Hunger Project’s programs after we pull out (each Epicenter is only supposed to receive 5 years of external support before being self-sufficient) but I’m realizing that there is absolutely no way to prevent the committee leaders for our programs from pocketing any income for themselves – and based on what has happened at other Epicenters, this is exactly what has happened. I simply don’t know how to function in a system with such an overwhelming level of corruption from top to bottom. Yes, there’s corruption in the U.S., but not nearly to this extent.<br /><br />African society is considered more community-oriented than in the U.S., yet a lot of the things I see happen are very individualistic. For example, we have tried to start a vegetable demonstration garden at our Epicenter before but people have always stolen the vegetables. Taxi drivers and shop owners are always trying to rip people off, and not just the muzungu who they assume is rich – fellow Ugandans, too – and they can do it because there are few price tags here, you just ask how much something costs and have to know whether it’s a fair price or not. Theft is very common here, and one house in my village was violently broken into during the night when the thieves knew the homeowner had sold cattle that day and had 1.5 million shillings (about $650) in his house. He and his wife were beaten badly and took a long time to recover. I can’t even leave things like my buckets or towels outside overnight because someone is likely to take them. There are certainly aspects of society that demonstrate how much Ugandans care about the greater community – people greet everyone, my neighbors get worried if I don’t come out of my house all day, and I recently attended a funeral where well over 500 people were in attendance because<i> everyone</i> attends, not just the people who knew the deceased. However, a lot of what I see is counterintuitive to what I would expect to see in a community-oriented society.<br /><br />Another thing I don’t really understand (and that is not completely related but I want to discuss it) is poor job performance. When it comes to government “public servant” jobs, there is no accountability because everyone is on a permanent pension and virtually nobody gets fired. Another Peace Corps Volunteer works at the District Health Office, and a co-worker of his remarked that in 16 years of working for the Ministry of Health, they’ve never known a single person to get fired. Thus, poor job performance is rampant, not only among health care workers, but in every position in Ugandan society. Nurses show up to work hours late and leave hours early, forcing patients to wait a long time for health care, sometimes until the following day. Secretaries fail to deliver important messages. Groundskeepers simply don’t show up for work, yet are still somehow paid. I continue to be amazed at the quality of “customer service” here – almost all shopkeepers, hotel staff, waiters, etc. give off the attitude that you, the customer, are bothering them and they wished you would just go away so they can get back to their nap. Such job performance would never be tolerated in the U.S., so I simply can’t wrap my head around why in Uganda, where the unemployment rate is astronomically higher, employers continue to put up with this when so many other people would be available to fill the position. A big part of the equation is low salaries, but with the level of poverty here, even a low salary is something worth working for.<br /><br />Despite all this, I still believe that people have a moral obligation to help other human beings who are suffering or in need. So how do we help developing countries without squandering money in ways that are ineffective and actually create problems of their own, like dependence on outside resources? One way is investment. If foreign investors spent their money on rewarding good Ugandan businesses and encouraging entrepreneurship, rather than just donating things and money, we would get past a huge host of the current problems, including fostering creative approaches to ending one’s one poverty rather than waiting for an outside handout, and creating a sustainable way to boost the local economy. However, as a Peace Corps Volunteer, I’m struggling with what kinds of solutions I can bring to the table as just one person (along with other PCVs and my community).<br /><br />Like I mentioned earlier, I am still learning and am trying to get my hands on books such as <i>Dead Aid: Why Aid Is Not Working and How There Is a Better Way for Africa</i> by Dambisa Moyo. Friends have raved about this book and I’m hoping to read it soon, as well as similar books, to help flesh out my new perspective on foreign aid.Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-57382831302896231522011-05-14T09:03:00.008+03:002011-05-14T09:47:47.457+03:00Amagara ni Marungi (Life is Good)<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">I spent Easter in my village and went to church with my neighbors.<span> </span>Th</span></span>e service was long but had music and dancing.<span> </span>The best part was that they had a translator so most of the service was given in both Runyankore and English – otherwise, it would have been a painful 2.5 to 3 hours of not understanding much at all.<span> </span>A young woman from the area was launching an album so gave a “concert”.<span> </span>The music and dancing were good but the girl needs to learn how to lip synch better – it was very obvious she wasn’t singing.<span> </span>I entertained everyone during one song by getting up and joining the dancers on stage.<span> </span>Afterwards, we came home and I ate lots of local foods with my neighbors for dinner (matooke, sweet potatoes, millet, and some very tough beef.<span> </span>Even Gertrude, my neighbor, said the beef was tough, and when a Ugandan comments on the toughness of the meat, you know it’s <i>really</i> tough.<span> </span>And they wonder why I rarely buy meat in this country…).</div><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: center; "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fiqLZMVOT2k/Tc4lEpiF7zI/AAAAAAAAKY8/AzrTI3Quwhs/s400/P1020416sm.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606459347921399602" /></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: center; "><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color: black; ">Villagers buying beef the day before Easter.<span> </span>They slaughtered 4 cows that day, and they sell the meat by the kilo by just hacking away with a machete – no such thing as real cuts like sirloin or T-bone steaks here.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: center; "><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8qifrP4CCgg/Tc4fjrIH9hI/AAAAAAAAKYs/rFElTS-M6fQ/s400/P1020424sm.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606453283855529490" /></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: center; "><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color: black; ">Easter church service with music and dancing.<span> </span>Even the pastor gets into it.</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">A couple of weeks ago, we hosted a World Malaria Day event at my site.<span> </span>5 other Peace Corps Volunteers came to help out, and the day included music to draw people to the event, lessons about malaria transmission, prevention, and treatment (some of which was taught by yours truly), speeches by local government officials, a youth poster contest, and a raffle for several mosquito nets and a bottle of insect repellant.<span> </span>Although I had worked hard preparing for the event, I decided that morning to have no expectations so as not to be disappointed if we had a low turn-up (a survival mechanism I’m learning to have in Uganda – be pleasantly surprised if things work out) but was very happy when over 225 people showed up for the event.<span> </span>The District Health Officer was our guest of honor, and he was very impressed by the size of the crowd and wants to help us do more health events like this around the district.<span> </span>The event lasted far longer than I ever anticipated – speeches from every local government official imaginable, </span></span>guest speakers showing up 3 hours late, etc. – but everyone deemed the event a huge success.<span> </span>While I really enjoyed planning and hosting the event, and acting as the country coordinator for all the Peace Corps events for World Malaria Day in Uganda, I was very glad it was over because of how much work and time it had taken to prepare for the day.</p><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ChFNpLKeeZI/Tc4dyxsKTGI/AAAAAAAAKYk/AIv_OkwwC2E/s400/P1020457e.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606451344292072546" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; "><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: center; "><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color: black; ">A representative of the District Chairman addressing the crowd at World Malaria Day</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">The next day was my birthday, April 28.<span> </span>The actual day was spent in the village, and was lazy in a wonderful way.<span> </span>Some of my Peace Corps friends were still at my house (including my friend Jesse, whose birthday is also April 28!), so we had French toast, watched a movie, then just chilled all day.<span> </span>For dinner, my friends Gertrude and Janephur cooked us millet, posho, and g-nut (peanut) sauce.<span> </span>The food was nothing out of the ordinary but the gesture was so nice.<span> </span>The following day, I went to Mbarara for the weekend to meet new PCVs, who had just finished training and moved to their sites around the southwest, and to celebrate my birthday.<span> </span>I enjoyed a few days of eating good food, watching the royal wedding (everything looks even fancier when </span></span>you live in an African village), lounging at the pool, getting a full-body massage, buying a ton of clothes at a big weekly market (4 skirts, 2 shirts, and a cardigan for about $11), and dancing with friends at a popular nightclub, Heat, which is outdoors and has fire pits and music videos playing on big screens.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uN5AXWLXolo/Tc4cv8BNmPI/AAAAAAAAKYc/weOlJmUyS6g/s400/P1020458c.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606450196013488370" /></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align: center; "><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="color: black; ">The weekly market in Mbarara where I bought way too many clothes.<span> </span>Shirts go for 20 to 50 cents, so a shopping spree here isn’t quite as expensive as in the U.S., and since Ugandans don’t know the good American brand names, you find shirts from The North Face or Banana Republic for the same price as everything else.</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">However, that Friday also marked the biggest riot that has occurred since demonstrations began in Kampala and other cities several weeks ago for the “Walk to Work Campaign”, which the opposition is heading to protest rising fuel and food prices.<span> </span>Downtown Kampala had tires burning in the streets and riot police everywhere.<span> </span>One of my Peace Corps friends was on a bus in central Kampala during the riots and described a scene of pure chaos, saying that no vehicles were entering the city and taxis and buses were all heading away from downtown as fast as possible, even without passengers.<span> </span>A man almost threw a brick at his bus until the driver made a pro-opposition hand gesture.<span> </span>Despite this major riot, during which time the main opposition leader, Dr. Kizza Besigye, was seriously injured by police and has been recovering at a hospital in Kenya, things have been fairly peaceful since, and all PCVs are safe.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">I’ve continued teaching at Kyera Agricultural Teaching College, and last week was my lesson on goats and sheep.<span> </span>When I asked the students what a female sheep is called, they said “Eee-way”.<span> </span>I wrote “ewe” on the board and explained that it is pronounced “you”, but only later realized the irony – the word for “you” in Runyankore is “iwe”, which is how they were pronouncing the word for a female sheep.<span> </span>Maybe they’re right after all.<span> </span>Also, although I regularly watch movies with Ugandans, probably the most entertaining movie-watching experience happened when Jesse and I showed the college staff two extreme sports videos.<span> </span>The first was of our training group’s white water rafting trip on the Nile.<span> </span>Whenever a boat flipped, they would matter-of-factly exclaim, “And now you die!” with the typical Ugandan noise of disbelief and amazement “Eh eh eh eh eh eh…” They just couldn’t believe people actually do such things on “water which is like smoke.” Hilarious and made me realize how crazy white people really do look sometimes.<span> </span>We followed that with a video of <i>really</i> extreme skiing that even amazed me, which produced many more hilarious comments from the Ugandans.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">My house has suddenly been raided by mosquitoes and is a buzzing hotbed of the bloodsuckers every night.<span> </span>I’ve taken to walking around my house for a good 20 minutes or so before going to bed just killing mosquitoes by clapping my hands together or slapping them against the walls.<span> </span>Kibo watches me while this happens with wide eyes and a confused expression, and I can tell I look crazy and slightly disturbed during this now-nightly ritual.<span> </span>I’m hoping that the coming dry season, my recently-cleared compound (it had tall grasses before which can harbor mosquitoes), and the fact that I now kill 5-20 mosquitoes every night will soon get rid of my problem.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">I’ve started calling everyone who calls me <i>muzungu </i>either black guy or <i>omweraguju</i>, which means black person in Runyankore.<span> </span>A lot of times they don’t really know how to react and are stunned into silence, but others around them always laugh.<span> </span>It’s difficult to explain to people that where I come from, it is racist to call someone by the color of their skin, so if they don’t like being called “black guy”, they shouldn’t call me <i>muzungu</i>.<span> </span>I also made an entire taxi full of people laugh (again – this always happens), but this time because the driver tried to get me to take a<i>boda boda</i> (motorcycle taxi) past a police checkpoint because I had been sharing the front seat with another woman and it is illegal to have two passengers in the front seat (even though they often squeeze in three).<span> </span>People laughed when I vehemently refused and told the driver I would not help him do something illegal, but if all passengers would refuse illegal practices, the roads here would be so much safer – however, nobody ever seems to stand up against overcrowding or bad driving.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">I began a health education series for mothers at our child immunization outreaches.<span> </span>Our first session discussed family planning options, including a condom demonstration using matooke (a green banana/plantain) which always makes everyone laugh.<span> </span>The lesson was only about 15-20 minutes but I feel it was effective, and afterwards at least one woman asked for a Depo Provera injection.<span> </span>Feels good to see results from my work!<span> </span>I’m also planning on doing a women’s health day next week with information about family planning, HIV and STIs, pregnancy and breastfeeding, and menstruation, including selling Afripads, a low-cost reusable menstrual pad that saves girls and women a lot of money, keeps girls in school (many stay at home during their periods because of embarrassment from using towels, rags, feathers, etc. when they are unable to afford a pack of Always), and is environmentally friendly.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">I officially ate the first thing I have grown myself – green beans from my garden!<span> </span>Amazingly fresh and delicious, and 100% organic.<span> </span>Maybe I’ll continue a garden back in the U.S.?</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">Finally, one last interesting anecdote.<span> </span>I knew before that the people in my region, the Banyankore, are split into two ethnic groups, the Bahima, who are the prestigious minority who have traditionally been the cattle owners and therefore the group with money and power, and the Bairu, who were traditionally the agriculturalists and lower in society than the Bahima.<span> </span>President Museveni himself is Bahima.<span> </span>The two groups often look physically different, with Bahima people known for lighter skin and thinner noses (also, Bahima women tend to be very large!<span> </span>People say it’s all the milk they drink).<span> </span>However, what I was recently told is that these two groups are actually the same ethnic groups as the Hutus and Tutsis of Rwanda, who are now famous for being the focus of the Rwandan genocide.<span> </span>The Bahima are essentially Tutsis, and the Bairu are Hutus, the difference being that they are now part of different language groups so have different names.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; ">I am going to try to write more frequent, shorter blog entries to make it easier on my readers.<span> </span>It doesn’t feel like very much happens here on a daily basis but when I sit down to write a blog post it always gets so long!</span></span></p>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-38892306177077692042011-04-25T21:36:00.001+03:002011-04-25T21:44:04.200+03:00It's a Weird, Weird WorldThe other night, I’m watching <i>Legends of the Fall</i> and suddenly realize that the way the soldiers stare at Brad Pitt when he rides back into the WWI camp, his dead brother’s blood smeared in war paint on his face and a necklace made of German scalps around his neck, is the way that Ugandans often stare at me – a sense of wonder, confusion, and a hint of unsettled, disapproving curiosity, like they’ve never seen something as crazy-weird as you. I first laughed at the realization, then was depressed by the fact that for two years, I’m looked at in the way that one might look at a person who has brutally chopped apart bodies, isn’t exactly mentally stable, and is no longer recognizable as a civilized human being and needs psychiatric counseling.<br /><br />I really need to learn not to give any contact information to Ugandan men, period. I thought I was being sneaky by giving out my e-mail rather than my phone number, but a) I forgot that I have an automatic e-mail signature with my phone number in it, and b) I just received an e-mail from one of my students at the agricultural college saying, “<i>your are my fiance i like you from bottom of my heart and i like you with my soul heart i would request you to be my best Friend What about you dear?</i>” All other differences in culture and wifely expectations aside, I prefer dating guys who understand the definition of “fiancé” and realize it’s not a term that means “The girl I find pretty who I would like to be friends with.” Unless we begin with that type of understanding, I really can’t see this working out, fellas. Additionally, crying, “I love you!” to a Western woman with whom you’ve literally never spoken one word is a sure way to get her to run immediately in the opposite direction. It doesn’t help that the local language has no distinction between “like,” “desire,” and “love,” but given the other problems I’ve encountered with men being extremely forward with what they say and vocabulary confusion about words like “fiancé”, I doubt it makes a huge difference. In a relationship in the U.S., if you say “I love you,” too soon (for some this means after the first few dates, for others it means months or years), it’s a sure sign that you’ve just made things too awkward to continue. Just watch the pilot episode of <i>How I Met Your Mother</i>, a TV show that is becoming an obsession in certain Peace Corps circles – it proves my point. One of my best friends, Andrea, is in Peace Corps Paraguay, and while Latin American cultures are widely known for their <i>machismo</i> culture, I think Uganda should qualify as another flag-bearer for ridiculous male declarations of love.<br /><br />ATTENTION all lazy and/or eccentrically-dressed people: come to Uganda. Here, one of the common greetings is, “Gyebale!” or “Webale/yebare emirimo!” which both mean “Thank you for your work!” This is a very nice sentiment, to thank everyone you meet for just doing what they do, and speaks highly on how Ugandans value other people, but using this as a standard greeting could very well (and often does) mean thanking people for sitting and drinking a beer, walking down the road, or taking a nap. People recently thanked me when I bought a sofa set. If your goals in life are less than overachieving, or you’ve had too few people appreciate all your hard work, Uganda could be good for you, or at least make you feel good about yourself. Additionally, just about any time I wear a new outfit, I am told by someone, “You are very smart!” meaning well-dressed. One day I was wearing a black tank top with a pair of brown capris, which are actually getting pretty washed-out, stained, and gross-looking (and by mixing black and brown I broke one of those fashion rules which someone once created but probably doesn’t actually apply anymore, like the whole “white after Labor Day” thing) but someone still said, “Eh! You are so smart.” I think this is partially due to the fact that I rarely wear pants in my village, but regardless, if you wear some type of clothing a Ugandan has infrequently seen, is very unique (also sometimes known as “really weird”), or has bright colors, you <i>will</i> be complimented on your wardrobe.<br /><br />However, other compliments here I can go without, namely any remark about my body. In Africa, being called ‘fat’ is a good thing, similar to being called beautiful, and people will sometimes say, “You are growing fat!” to mean that you are looking rich and healthy. Unfortunately, Ugandans do not understand that such comments have been known to cause eating disorders in Western women, who are bombarded with images of celebrities and models with long, lean figures. For instance, when I first arrived at site I was chatting with some women in the village who were saying, “Oh you are so pretty! Your nose is small! Your face is nice! And you have a great figure!” Just when I was about to be flattered, they added, “You have big legs!” It was in that moment that I realized I never want a Ugandan to honestly compliment my body because of their preferences for junk-in-the-trunk and everything that jiggles.<br /><br />One fashion trend that I really don’t get is that men here sometimes wear ridiculously short ties. While most Ugandan men adopt a typical Western suit for work or special occasions, including a tie of normal length, you occasionally see a man wearing a short, fat tie stretching down no further than where I imagine his nipples would be. I’m not sure if the actual tie is shorter or they just tie the knot differently, but the effect, at least from my perspective, is probably not what the wearer was going for. I was at a hotel with another PCV once when our waiter had a tie that extended literally only 3 inches past the knot. She and I couldn’t help but bust into hysterics every time he came to refill our drinks or bring our food. It just looks so strange and comical, as if someone stepped into a futuristic machine that makes you bigger (whatever the opposite of a shrink-ray is) and everything got 5 times larger except for the tie. If a man wears shorts in this culture he’s considered to be dressing like a young boy, but apparently wearing a tie that is meant to be on someone standing no more than 3 feet tall is a fashion statement.<br /><br />If you put an American kid within 3 miles of a puppy, he/she will find that puppy, play with it, squeeze it half to death, and cry out, “Mom, can we keep it, <i>please</i>?! I <i>promis</i>e I’ll take care of it,” and other similar pleas to keep the good, cute and furry times rolling. If you put a puppy near a Ugandan child, the kid will scream bloody murder and run away crying, as if he or she is being chased by an 800-pound Grizzly bear (or for an African example, a pride of hungry lions) rather than a 4-pound hairball of joy. Ugandans are not dog lovers, and I realize this, but it still never ceases to amaze me how absolutely terrified of dogs, and especially <i>puppies</i>, Ugandan children are. Kibo has lately taken up the hobby of terrorizing small children on their way to fetch water by charging at them at full speed. I think she knows they don’t want to play, but despite their screams, their tears making channels in the dirt on their cheeks and snot bubbling out of their noses, they still run away and provide something to chase, so the game is still fun for her. Dogs here are for security purposes only, so most Ugandans are raised to fear dogs as much as American children are raised to fear strangers offering them candy or… a cute puppy. Huh. Maybe these cultures are more similar than we think.<br /><br />Speaking of similarities, at the Easter service at one of the local churches, the LC1 Chairman (basically the village mayor), an older gentleman, was giving a speech and addressed the children, telling them to appreciate their education and study hard. At one point, he actually said something like, “I used to have to walk for <i>miles</i> to reach school,” (which I would like to point out that some of these children still do) then said something about how kids these days have it easy and they should appreciate what they have. I didn’t hear anything about walking uphill both ways in three feet of snow, but the correlation to those stereotypical stories we all heard from our grandparents was not lost on me. Maybe Uganda and the U.S. are more alike than meets the eye.Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-80904022409723747842011-04-08T11:20:00.003+03:002011-04-08T11:27:18.210+03:00Live Like a PCV!I highly encourage everyone to take part in this challenge - Live Like a PCV. It's designed to give you a taste of what life is like for PCVs (and most other people) in the developing world. It's actually pretty hilarious for me to read the criteria (extremely true!) and I would absolutely love to hear stories of any of you who attempt the challenge! I suggest trying the set of rules for Kenya as it's probably most similar to my situation in Uganda.<div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.livelikeapcv.org/">http://www.livelikeapcv.org/</a></div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-83427882124308554722011-04-08T10:28:00.000+03:002011-04-08T10:38:52.727+03:00Happy 50th Birthday, Peace Corps!Time here seems frozen. Yes, there is some seasonality between rainy and dry seasons, but for the most part the weather is constant. It feels like spring or summer all year. Being on the Equator, the day length doesn’t change – the sun comes up and sets at almost the same time every day. I can’t decide if life in the U.S. seems like just yesterday or a million years ago, a distant memory that could have been a dream, one which stills seems real when you first wake up.<br /><br />Speaking of the passage of time, this past weekend, many volunteers attended a service day to celebrate the 50th Anniversary of Peace Corps. We did lots of projects at a primary school near Kampala, including creating a ‘peace garden’ (which was my group’s project), rehabilitating the rainwater collecting system, painting classrooms, collecting trash, painting a mural, teaching life skills, etc. It was a lot of fun, and I got to see lots of great friends and meet many new people, both PCVs already in the field and trainees in the newest group that arrived in February. Although some of the work was outside the ideology of Peace Corps (which emphasizes building capacity and empowering people, not doing things for them like painting schools and building water systems), it felt good to actually do something with a visible, tangible, almost instant result. That evening, we had a super fancy reception – we arrived to big band Frank Sinatra-style music while everyone was having drinks on the lawn, then had dinner and watched films/listened to speeches about Peace Corps under some fancy tents while seated on chairs with chair covers. Super swanky. Kudos to the planning team! Then we danced and danced and danced…. I don’t think I sat down for 4 hours. You can see the video we watched at the reception featuring PCVs and staff in Uganda and what Peace Corps means to us (include a short quip by yours truly) <a href="http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=874334724099">here on Facebook</a>.<br /><br />Liza, a PCV from my training group who lives in the next village over, is applying for a grant to start a goat project, so she and I would be working together if we get the money. I would teach the recipients about goat care, and she would teach them about financial management and help them to open an account at the Farmers SACCO (microfinance bank) where she works. Keep your fingers crossed that the money pulls through!<br /><br />I will soon be teaching at an agricultural training college (Kyera Farm) near Mbarara with Jesse, another PCV from my training group. He’s teaching a permaculture class, while I get to teach various animal husbandry topics. This term, I’m in charge of teaching a class on pig, small ruminant, and rabbit production (which is good since I’m also helping other PCVs with goat and rabbit projects – it will help me brush up on what I know). Next term, I could be teaching dairy and beef production. I’m so excited since this is more what I envisioned for myself in Peace Corps than what I have been doing so far, and I also think this might make me a professor. The staff members at Kyera are also really nice, fun people. When I was there last time, one of the veterinarians, who is also a lecturer, was showing the students how to treat pigs for mange – man was it loud! If you’ve never heard a pig scream, your eardrums are thanking you. My first class is on Monday (currently preparing my swine lessons, hahaha) – wish me luck!<br /><br />I recently received FOUR packages from home, including such wonders as JIF peanut butter, granola bars, Velveeta Mac & Cheese, a ton of issues of The Horse magazine, scented candles, a solar shower, a can of baked beans, Valentine’s Day candy, white-chocolate covered Oreos (unbelievable!), and Eat, Pray, Love on DVD. I also got a big bundle of holiday cards made by Betsy (my niece)’s classroom, with whom I am corresponding through the Peace Corps World Wise Schools Correspondence Program. I should have video-taped myself opening the packages, I was so excited. A big thanks to Mom, Dad, Joy, Sean, and Betsy’s classroom!<br /><br />Also, the bats in my ceiling/attic are GONE! All it took was to wait for the bats to leave at dusk one evening, and then my neighbor climbed up in the ceiling and stuffed thorny branches into the holes where the bats enter and exit. Now nights are nice and quiet – no more squeaks, creaks, feet scratching on the ceiling tiles, and very-loud thuds when the bats re-enter and jump onto the ceiling from above. If I had known it was this easy, I would have done this months ago – they were so loud they would wake me up at night, and my first few nights at site (and a few select times since then) I literally thought someone was breaking into my kitchen. However, there is now a rat/mouse that sneaks into my kitchen every night and wreaks havoc on my food stores and any level of cleanliness I had managed to create. Might be time to set some traps.<br /><br />Lately, whenever I’ve been away from site, I get easily frustrated by the actions of people around me (mostly due to impersonal shouts of “Muzungu!”, creepy men, people just trying to rip me off, and another level of annoyedness that I can’t explain) and it’s a huge relief to get home. This manifestation is probably not healthy overall, but I think it speaks volumes to how integrated I feel at site and how kind the people in my village are towards me. When I’m having a bad day, I’m reminded of a quote from a PCV in Peru in one of our reference books:<br /><blockquote>“There comes a day when all this suddenly becomes apparent, all at once. Things are no longer picturesque; they are dirty. No longer quaint but furiously frustrating. And you want like crazy to just get out of there, to go home.”</blockquote>When I was traveling in Africa in 2008, things were picturesque, villages were quaint, people were fascinating, and life was an adventure. Life is still an adventure, but in different ways than I could have anticipated (but isn’t it always that way?) but of course I’m still enjoying the ride. I’m learning how to deal with frustrations, and I’m trying to perfect the art of turning the other cheek and of not sweating the small stuff (which is difficult when being cat-called on the street or when a bus company openly admits they have ripped you off and are refusing to give your money back). I also want to show some Ugandan men what a determined, independent woman looks like and what happens when you try to mess with her (it’s not pretty. Ask some of my friends who have been around when someone tries to rip me off or does something really rude). I do wonder how things will be when I get back to the U.S., because reverse culture shock can sometimes be the hardest adjustment of all. Will I actually find things about this culture and way of life that I miss? I’m sure there will be a few, like how people value greeting each other here and take time for their families, and even the fact that I stand out so much will probably be partly missed (I’ll be wondering where my celebrity status went once I get home). Other things, like the treatment of women or open corruption in society, will not.<br /><br />As a fun addendum to lighten the mood, I just bought a zebra print soft set and will post pictures when I get it delivered to my house. I’ve kinda wanted one ever since I saw one from a bus window a few months ago. When else in my life can I have a zebra print couch without looking completely insane except when I live in Africa? All the couches in Uganda are ugly, anyways (no seriously, they’re REALLY ugly) – might as well get one with some flair!Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-79820931445225566522011-03-19T11:53:00.005+03:002011-03-19T12:06:00.520+03:00Busy!<div style="text-align: left;">So much has happened since my last entry (so this will be a long post)!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The rains have finally come again so things are cool, I’m bathing regularly, and now my water is from a safe source (rain, as opposed to a disgusting, stagnant stream where the cows drink).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’ve been in a consistently good mood for about 2 weeks, which is almost unheard of for most of the PCVs I know, including myself.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I think it’s largely due to the fact that I’ve had lots of things to work on, and I’ve done a couple of activities with other PCVs, which always re-energizes me and makes me want to get down to business.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>One of my biggest responsibilities right now is acting as the World Malaria Day coordinator for Peace Corps Uganda.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s becoming a lot of work but I’m enjoying it, and we’re hosting one of the events at my site on April 27!</div><p class="MsoNormal">A few weeks ago, I went into Kampala and Entebbe for a Gender and Development meeting with other PCVs.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I got to see a lot of great friends, celebrate two birthdays, stay overnight at the Entebbe Zoo, have sundowners on the beach on Lake Victoria, eat pizza, go to a night club, get some new books from the Peace Corps library, and eat <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Mexican food</b> (chimichangas, queso dip, and frozen lime margaritas!!!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Completely worth the splurge of 30,000 UGX – about $13.50.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>That’s a lot of money in Uganda, even when I’m making a very respectable Ugandan stipend of about $250 a month).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Definitely a much-needed vacation!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Another volunteer came to my site last week to present Afripads to my life skills class.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Girls here are sometimes unable to spend money on disposable menstrual pads, such as Always, and end up using towels, clothes, rags, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>These are uncomfortable, bulky, and sometimes even fall out, making the girls too embarrassed to attend school when on their period.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Afripads is a company based in Masaka, Uganda that makes a washable, re-usable menstrual pad that costs only 3,500/- (about $1.30) and lasts for a year.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This way, girls are able to continue attending school without the fear of embarrassment.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I also helped at another volunteer’s site in Ibanda (a beautiful place surrounded by mountains not very far from me) for her health and sports workshop.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There were a bunch of us teaching about reproductive health and sex education (with another Afripads talk) to female students at a Primary Teachers’ College (and the male PCVs taught the boys), which was really fun – they had SO many questions!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was good to dispel some scary myths, too.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>In the afternoon, I had a booth about malaria where people could come and take a True or False quiz.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The next day was devoted to sports, and after forced into taking part in the America vs. Uganda volleyball game, I actually enjoyed it!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m usually so terrible at volleyball (and most sports, for that matter) that I get embarrassed, frustrated, and just don’t want to play, but I found myself doing okay and didn’t want to sit out when another volunteer asked to take my place.</p><p class="MsoNormal">A company called Barefoot Power manufactures solar lamps which come with a small solar panel.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Peace Corps provided each of us one of these during training, and the company recently came out with a new product so wanted to test it in the villages.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They gave all the interested PCVs 9 solar lamps to distribute, and the people I gave them to were SO appreciative – it saves them money they would have to spend on kerosene.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They get to keep the lamps for free if they fill out and return a 15-day survey.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’ve had at least 10 other people asking me for a lamp, and it’s good advertising for another PCV up the road who is trying to start a program to sell the lamps at her SACCO (Savings and Credit Co-operative) and also provide loans with which to pay for them.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She also wants to start a goat program, for which I would give goat husbandry lectures to the recipients, and another PCV wants help with a rabbit project.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I’ve started my own garden – the first time I’m ever attempting to grow my own food.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I bought some strawberry and green pepper seedlings, and plan to also plant eggplant, carrots, and green beans.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m also trying to grow cilantro in my kitchen – fresh, homemade salsa, here we come!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I even planted sunflowers along the front of my house and they’re just starting to sprout – I know when they grow they’ll remind me of my friend Andrea, who’s in Peace Corps Paraguay, because she loves sunflowers.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>:)</p><p class="MsoNormal">Yesterday I helped facilitate our first HIV/AIDS and Gender Inequality Workshop.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We (The Hunger Project) are supposed to host these on a quarterly basis, but as far as I can tell, this is the first time our Epicenter has hosted one of these workshops.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I first covered facts about HIV/AIDS (most people don’t even know exactly what HIV and AIDS are, or that they are even different from one another, they just know AIDS makes you sick and eventually kills you), transmission, prevention, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We then had a condom demonstration, during which a lot of giggling ensued when I pulled out the wooden…ummm… models.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Some things are funny the world over.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Some of the questions I got were so frustrating, like how it seems so many women have tried to go for HIV testing but their husbands refuse to go with them, making testing worthless, and I can’t really get a definite reason why men won’t go with their wives for testing. My theory is that since a lot of men have extramarital affairs (it’s almost expected in this culture), they are afraid of going for testing because of what they might find out.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>That guess is not based in any facts, just my theory.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SWrqtJJvZUQ/TYRwdA4WyHI/AAAAAAAAKYE/K7_GWew3MCg/s400/P1020305.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585713081601149042" /><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">Women learn how to properly use a condom (men are in another group)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">At the same workshop, we also did an activity from my Life Skills manual that highlighted the differences between gender roles and biological sex in which the participants were given cards with words on them (like “Cooking”, “Love”, “Strong”, “Family Decisions”, “Doctor”, “Nurse”) and asked to put them under either Male or Female, whichever came to their mind when they read the word.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It led to a good debate, and I think it’s probably one of the first times many of these people have openly discussed gender roles.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Then, we went through each one to show that most of these roles are social, not based on physical capabilities of men or women.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>For example, men and women both can be a nurse or a doctor, pursue an education, cook, care for children, make decisions, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>One of the only words left that couldn’t be either was “Pregnancy”, and everyone agreed that “Violence” was purely a masculine term (although I wanted to beg to differ, this was their activity and I tried not to guide it too much).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We were doing well until we got to “Sweeping”, which both men and women agreed that men “can’t do.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s probably largely a language barrier, but I was trying to explain between “can’t” and “won’t”.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Also, people kept insisting that “Authority” belongs on the male side, even though my counterpart, Janephur, was there helping us conduct the meeting and she is a local councilor (government representative).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We explained the difference between gender roles (a social construct) and sex (a biological fact) then related this back to the spread of HIV, showing that women lack the power to say ‘no’ to sex or insist on using a condom, while men lack the sense of responsibility to do what their wives ask them to since they are the ones with the authority in this culture.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>People seemed to really enjoy the workshop and wanted more similar trainings, also requesting other workshops on topics such as sanitation and making water safe to drink.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Even my supervisor said (for whatever reason) that he didn’t think they could pull off this workshop in the past, but now he sees it is possible and he was really happy.</p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-39WptnmxwHE/TYRv4Dv936I/AAAAAAAAKX8/s48pGuojNZc/s400/P1020306.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585712446716108706" /><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">Men and women do an activity to learn about gender roles</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I had a vet come and spay Kibo at my house a few days ago.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I have rarely been that stressed-out in Uganda, despite all I’ve gone through.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He knew what he was doing, and Kibo now seems fine, but watching him set up a moderately-sanitized surgical table using my desk <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">in my yard</i>, no masks, no gloves, sanitizing his instruments in a basin of water and some disinfectant, the anesthesia wearing off too early, watching him come close to ligating a part of the intestine with the ovary, watching her intestines lay on her unsterilized fur on her belly… I was not calm, to say the least.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>When I got sterile gloves from the clinic and put them on to assist, the vet said something along the lines of, “Oh yes, you can use gloves, I know the ladies are sensitive to these kinds of things.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Bringing up a sexist argument about how women fear blood did nothing to calm me down.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We drew a small crowd of curious people (many of whom came back later in the day to check on Kibo), and I actually assisted on my dog’s own procedure (does this violate those medical rules against operating on family members?).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The injectable anesthesia took forever to wear off, which worried me – 9 hours later she still couldn’t walk in a straight line – but by the next morning she was doing well, eating, wagging her tail, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My neighbors were so excited to see her up and walking around, they dropped what they were doing and came over to fawn over her.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My friend Amon, who helps me with yard work, gave me 5 eggs with the specific instructions “for Kibo only.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I don’t think anyone has ever given <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">me</i> more than 2 eggs for free. Ever since the surgery, people in the village have all been asking about Kibo even more than they normally do.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I have to re-emphasize how unusual it is for Ugandans to care about a dog this much, to treat it as well as they do – it continues to surprise me, and I feel so blessed that my community really loves my dog.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Avert your eyes for the next picture if you have a weak stomach:</p><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WzxoHX3FQwM/TYRvPya2UGI/AAAAAAAAKX0/f0c74DhPZYg/s400/P1020289.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585711754869362786" />Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-54276019593029661272011-02-24T09:47:00.004+03:002011-02-24T13:15:38.228+03:00Random Snippets<p class="MsoNormal">Elections were remarkably peaceful (a few isolated incidents around the country with some injuries and a few deaths, but nothing major).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A bit anti-climactic for all the hype we were giving it.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Looks like I won’t be leaving Uganda soon after all.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Friends and family, that means you should start planning to visit me here.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>;)</p><p class="MsoNormal">There are some things here I’ll never get used to, like how people will turn up at my front door, we clearly can’t understand each other (language barrier), but they continue to just stand there, saying nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Or when I’m walking down the street and people not only stare, they stop whatever they’re doing and stare.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They almost never smile, not even when I clearly see them staring.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Sooo awkward.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Sometimes if I wave, it snaps them out of their “Look at the strange muzungu” trance and they might smile or continue on their way.</p><p class="MsoNormal">This is a conservative society (I’m not even really supposed to show my knees!) but I come home the other night after dark and there’s a full-grown woman bathing in the front yard.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Stark naked.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She lives next door, and I know there’s an indoor bathroom just like mine where she could be bathing.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I found a black widow spider in my house last week.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Gave me the heebie jeebies for a few nights.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I keep checking corners to see if I find any more – none so far.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I was at a big market the other day shopping for clothes (I’m SO sick of wearing the same 5 outfits all the time) and one man goes, “Muzungu, you come back, I want to eat on your money.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s actually funny to see the clothes in the market – half of them still have Goodwill price tags on them, and a good portion are t-shirts from American sports camps or church retreats which you know the participants wore a few times and then realized they no longer wanted a shirt from a retreat 7 years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A good chunk of those clothes you donated to charity last year?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They wound up in Africa, being sold for $1.</p><p class="MsoNormal">One of my friends in the village, Chief (his nickname, he’s not a chief), owns a bar where I sometimes go for milk tea or to buy bread.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I usually end up talking to him, and he keeps asking me why I don’t buy land here and stay in Uganda forever.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There are so many answers I could give him (family, a general creepy factor from Ugandan men, sushi, my career, lack of infrastructure of any kind, etc.) but I usually just say, “We’ll see.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Sometimes I want to tell him that I occasionally doubt my ability to even stay here for 2 years.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The other day, I was walking about 1-2km to one of the primary schools, and one of my neighbors sees me and says, “Eh! Noomanya kutambura?”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You know how to walk?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Why yes, yes I do.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Been doing it about 22 years now.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I think they’re just surprised whenever they see me doing something that requires exercise, like walking, fetching water, or doing laundry.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Speaking of water – what a disaster!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I never knew what the dry season really meant until now.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Our rainwater tank continues to be pretty much empty (although it has been raining more often lately, hopefully rainy season is soon here!), and the stream where I was getting bathing/washing water finally got stagnant, gross, and very low.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I found a shallow well, and when I pumped the water into my jerrycan it looked clear, but when I poured water for my bath later that night, it was a gross reddish color.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Not really sure what happened there.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I told myself it just had a lot of iron in it and still bathed.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I had no other option, and already had been procrastinating on a bath.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Makes me think about all of my neighbors, and the majority of people across Africa and the developing world, who don’t have a rainwater tank, so are always getting their water from unsafe sources that could dry up at any time.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>In America, we use drinkable water to wash clothes, bathe the dog, and even power-spray the house.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I’m learning to just sit and do nothing, and sometimes that worries me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>One of my Life Skills students asked me to come to her house.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She speaks very little English, and I speak very little Runyankore-Rukiga.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Therefore, I sat for about 3 hours at her house saying almost nothing and staring at pictures on the walls.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was good enough at procrastinating before Peace Corps – now will I procrastinate by just sitting and staring at a wall?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m also picking up the bad habit of tuning people out, a product of not understanding conversations about 90% of the time.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Kibo is doing great – she’s now 5+ months old (and when I told my neighbor when she turned 5 months old, he sang “Happy Birthday to Kibo”, in his limited English, for the rest of the day).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She continues to be pretty afraid of strangers and strange places, but is getting a little better and a little braver, probably because she’s proud to be sporting a fashionable collar and leash from the U.S. (thanks, Mom!).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I try to take her into the trading center any chance I get, and she’s going on an excursion to another PCV’s site soon – a little tough love to get her outside of her shell.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m going to have her spayed soon by a vet who will drive to my house from Mbarara.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Things have been emotionally hard in the past few days – I think I was watching too much Grey’s Anatomy, which made me realize how much I want to practice medicine, which made me question why I’m here doing work I didn’t really sign up to do (NGO capacity-building and community health, not animal husbandry), which made me actually want to be studying my ass off in vet school right now, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’ll find things to keep me busy for a few days, then be faced once again with not enough work.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Can I do this for 19 more months?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The one thing that makes me want to stay during these low times is remembering the amazing friendships I’ve formed, both with other PCVs and with Ugandans.</p><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fktXbO3SMR8/TWYtWOaLZSI/AAAAAAAAKXs/p4FZo001Il4/s400/P1020164_1.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577195048393205026" /><div style="text-align: center;">Watching the sunrise after an early morning hike with friends</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jbhHiajQrJI/TWYAui_zGlI/AAAAAAAAKXM/MCSeJnHMXAE/s400/P1020137.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577145988213316178" /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Sunset in my village. No matter how my day went, this sight brightens my mood and warms my heart.</p></div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-33575469566759387672011-02-24T09:37:00.009+03:002011-03-19T12:39:25.648+03:00Shameless Request for Magical Treasures from AmericaI present to you my Care Package Wish-List. I would appreciate any or all things on this list (and really anything not on this list, too). Some things you just can’t find in Uganda! Thank you to everyone who has already sent cards, packages, etc.. Every piece of mail I get is like Christmas morning. Also, almost everything I’ve received has been addressed to “Sister Britt Larson”, so it seems that technique works. I’d suggest you do it, too. Mwebale munonga (thank you all very much)!<br /><ul><li>Granola bars (CLIF bars, Quaker Chewy bars, etc.) – esp. with peanut butter and chocolate</li><li>Velveeta Mac & Cheese</li><li>Magazines</li><li>Scented candles</li><li>Travel-size bottles of hand sanitizer</li><li>Duct tape</li><li>Aussie 3-Minute Miracle deep hair conditioner</li><li>Beef jerky</li><li>Crystal Light To-Go packets</li><li>Cashews, almonds</li><li>Cans/packets of meat (chicken, salmon, etc.)</li><li>Yoga DVDs – 30-minute-ish videos would be great</li><li>Beginner's guitar books/DVDs (so I can teach myself)</li><li>Any type of chocolate-y candy (like Reese's Pieces)</li><li>Shower scrunchie/loofah (the big puff-ball thing… don’t know what they’re really called)</li><li>CoverGirl Perfect Point Plus eyeliner - Black Onyx color (just because I'm a PCV doesn't mean I can't try to look pretty! just ignore the 5 layers of dirt on my feet)</li><li>Single-serving packets of salad dressing (honey mustard, caesar, bleu cheese, and raspberry vinaigrette sound spectacular)</li><li>Orbit Gum - Sweet Mint flavor<br /></li><li>Sunflower seeds (to plant)</li><li>Romaine lettuce seeds</li><li>Books – any book would be great, but here are a few I want to read:</li></ul><div> - Dead Aid: Why Aid Is Not Working and How There Is a Better Way for Africa – Dambisa Moyo </div><div> - The Motorcycle Diaries – Ernesto Guevara<br /> - Equine ER – Leslie Guttman<br /> - A Short History of Nearly Everything – Bill Bryson<br /> - Pathologies of Power – Paul Farmer<br /></div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-61946308781817064112011-02-18T08:57:00.000+03:002011-02-18T08:58:14.097+03:00Uganda Votes…Uganda Decides?One of the unique experiences I’m having right now is the chance to witness an African presidential election first-hand. Elections in Africa are notorious for being unfair, non-democratic, split along ethnic lines, rigged, and even violent, whether on the part of the candidates (who throw each other in jail or worse) or on the part of citizens who are angry with the results, often because they suspect the results have been altered in favor of the ruling party. The current president, Yoweri Museveni, has been in office for 25 years (after he changed the constitution to eliminate the 2-term limit), so no matter the outcome of the elections, I can imagine people will be upset.<br /><br />So far, things in my village have been peaceful and celebratory. One of the candidates for Member of Parliament (like a Congressman) came to our village the other night and a big crowd showed up, everyone excited to hear speeches and then dance/celebrate afterwards. However, I was slightly appalled by a story my neighbor had told me earlier – she and 9 others had met this candidate before and told him they were a women’s group raising goats and needed money to buy more goats for the group. He gave them money to help their cause, not realizing (or at least not admitting) that it was a fictitious group and they all spent the money on clothes, beer, etc. Now they’re all going to vote for him. While candidates in America spend a large part of their campaign money on commercials, tours, billboards, etc., here they literally buy votes, whether with money or just things like t-shirts (which are not even affordable for some people here). People often say they won’t vote for a candidate unless they are given something directly. It frustrates me that people seem to care less about the issues and beliefs of the candidate than what type of hand-out they’ll get prior to voting, but if you’re impoverished it might be more important to get money to feed your family this week than how the next president will increase the number of children in school or improve national security. <br /><br />It’s interesting to hear the opinions of people around me. Some openly admit that their elections are not free and fair, others say the opposite. Most deny that violence ever occurs during elections, while others say there will be trouble. While I can’t take an open political stance, or show favor for a certain party of candidate, due to my affiliation with Peace Corps and the U.S. government, I can say that I hope Uganda can make improvements on previous elections and make the entire governmental system more democratic. <br /><br />Elections are today, and the results will be announced on Monday. If there are any riots or trouble with elections, it will mostly likely not occur in my small village but rather be in the towns and cities. President Museveni is voting in Kiruhura District, where I live (he’ll vote about 45 minutes away from me but right where one of my PCV friends lives so I hope it goes well). I will keep you all updated on how things go in the next few days. I’m hoping that it all goes smoothly and we can continue serving in Uganda as Peace Corps Volunteers.Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-31343332774384896912011-02-12T14:35:00.000+03:002011-02-12T14:40:58.380+03:006 Months and Going Strong!Time has really flown by – it’s been 6 months since I arrived in Uganda with a group of 45 new Peace Corps Volunteers, and we’re all still here! That’s a big deal – it’s pretty common for a few people to drop out during training or within the first few months at site. I absolutely love my group and honestly can’t imagine life without knowing them. They are incredible, wonderful people! While the days move slowly, and sometimes America seems like it was years ago, I still can’t believe we’re already 6 months in. We’re also now Peace Corps “sophomores” as the newest group of volunteers arrived yesterday, exactly 6 months after us. Only 19 more months to go!<br /><br />While I still feel like I’m on an emotional rollercoaster (some days I’m super happy to be here, other days I dream of going home, even if just for a few minutes), I know I wouldn’t trade this for anything and I’m praying that presidential elections on February 18 go smoothly so we can all stay here. While it would have been different leaving a few months ago before getting settled into my community, I’m finally becoming pretty busy at my site and have a lot of projects I am starting – leaving now would be heartbreaking and I would feel like I left so many things unfinished. I can’t imagine leaving within two weeks. Everyone at home, please keep your fingers crossed and pray that I can stay and finish what I came here to do.<br /><br />So what am I working on these days? I’ve just started a girls’ group at a local primary school to teach life skills, English, and health, I’m planning an HIV and Gender Inequality workshop put on by The Hunger Project, I’m trying to coordinate a group of PCVs to do something big for World Malaria Day on April 25, I’m organizing the dairy farmers to apply to become a formal group, I’m soon hosting a composting demonstration, and I’m planning visits to other PCVs’ sites to help them with dairy cattle and rabbit projects. I’m trying to motivate myself to work more on learning the language, and I have a lot of little things I’m pushing for, too – things as simple as an announcement board where we post a calendar of events at The Hunger Project, or finding new ways of storing the beans we collect from farmers to avoid pest damage.<br /><br />I’m debating whether to bring my SLR out in my village. It would take such better pics than my little point-and-shoot, and I could spend hours taking photos, showing people, getting prints made for friends (which would be SO appreciated here), and have photos I could really cherish for a lifetime. I don’t really want to reveal that I have a nice camera, but people here already know I have a computer, an iPod, solar power, a small camera... and I feel very safe in my house and in my village. I also have insurance on all my valuables. I’ll probably give in soon and share the photos with you.<br /><br />I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned my Ugandan name, given to me by my host family during training – Kamusiime (Kaam-see-may), which basically means “Giving thanks to God.” Since Ugandans often have difficulty pronouncing my name, I often tell them they can call me Kamusiime. I also get called “Betty” a lot because the “Br” sound is somehow hard to pronounce. <br /><br />I’m savoring the ability to make an entire crowd laugh with just two words in Runyankore-Rukiga (sometimes nothing more complicated than “I don’t want” to a persistent seller or “We are here” to emphasize that we don’t want a taxi) because people can’t believe I’m speaking the local language. It will be strange to go back to the U.S. and never get noticed in a crowd (although it will also be a relief).<br /><br />Speaking of life after Peace Corps, I can already see myself changing, although I’m sure the full extent of these changes won’t be visible to me for some time to come. I’m more patient but also more clear about my personal boundaries on what I’ll put up with and what I won’t. I’m learning to pick my battles, when to push to get something done and when I need to realize that something should just be left alone (the perfect quote for this is “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference) . I know I’ll be shopping at more farmers markets when I get back and trying to live a simpler lifestyle. I’m learning to somewhat enjoy cooking, and I’m not too bad at experimenting in the kitchen. I’m also realizing just how good the American life really is.Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-20731198112086187272011-01-30T09:10:00.001+03:002011-01-30T09:17:45.833+03:00Women in Ugandan Society<p class="MsoNormal">We’ve all heard about how women in many parts of the world are still marginalized and considered second-class citizens; we even continue to struggle with gender equality in the United States.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>However, before moving to a developing country, I never really understood what it meant to be a woman in such a culture.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This post will be a bit graphic, but no apologies – this is reality.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Here in Uganda, the men are definitely the decision-makers, the ones with the power.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>While urban areas are becoming more gender-equal than before, most people still consider women and men to hold very distinctive gender roles, with the household work left to the women but the household decisions and prestige being given to the men.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Women are seen as weak, yet they are the ones doing most of the manual labor for the home, such as fetching water (jerry cans are heavy!) and firewood.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The women care for the children, but if the couple ever separates, the children generally belong to the father (who never actually cares for them – he either hires someone or already has another wife).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Here, there is no such thing as rape within marriage, legally or culturally.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Men pay a bride price (often paid in cows or other in-kind payments), which means the man has a huge amount of leverage over his wife.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>While becoming less common, “marriage by abduction” does happen, in which a man kidnaps a girl who has refused to marry him and rapes her.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The girl’s ‘purity’ is then ruined, and out of shame, she accepts to stay as his wife – she usually feels she has no choice, as many families and communities would disown her at this point, and few other men would want her.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If a woman wants to use a condom with her partner or go for HIV testing, she is accused of sleeping around (even though it is commonplace for men to have extramarital affairs, thus putting women at risk for HIV infection from their own husbands.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>42% of all new HIV infections in Uganda are intramarital).</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As a female Peace Corps Volunteer, my struggle is mainly from issues of harassment.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Many Ugandan women (unfortunately) have become used to sexual harassment or even assault, so consider it a normal part of life.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>For myself and my fellow female PCVs, however, harassment is probably one of the biggest issues we face.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It can be everything from cat calls (“Hello baby!”, “I love you!”, “My size!”) and blatant inquiries for sex to sexual assault.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I have never been assaulted, but several of my friends have.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The emotional effects have serious consequences for us as volunteers – some are afraid to leave their houses for fear of unwanted attention or worse.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I find that I avoid most Ugandan men, which is something I wish I didn’t resort to because of the potential for positive, professional relationships.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Unfortunately, I’ve heard too many stories of female PCVs thinking that they have great friendships and working relationships with co-workers, only to later be propositioned for sex.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I have faced very few issues in my small village – everyone knows me and respects/looks out for me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The main challenges occur when I go to bigger cities.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This post wasn’t meant to make anyone at home worry about me, but only to point out one of the biggest challenges we’re facing as PCVs and the reality of life for Ugandan women.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Since this blog is supposed to be a window into my experience, I decided to share this with you.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A lot of these issues were brought up in a recent 20/20 episode about the murder of a volunteer in Benin and the sexual assault and rape of other volunteers, which I watched with my training class.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It prompted a several-hour discussion within our group, after which we spoke with the Country Director about our concerns and priorities (and he has responded to everything positively.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I really think Peace Corps-Uganda is already doing an excellent job in being proactive about these issues).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The reaction to the 20/20 episode, and our action about it, made me so proud of my fellow volunteers.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As a Peace Corps Volunteer, I’m trying to improve the lives of the girls and women around me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m going to start teaching life skills (such as setting life goals, communication skills, decision-making, healthy behaviors, etc.) to girls in my community soon.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As a health volunteer, I’m promoting family planning options, such as condoms or birth control, to try to curb the high fertility rate of about 7 children per woman, but I believe that the only way to truly reduce family size is to empower women and give them other options in life besides having lots of children.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Make sure they get a good education and are able to make their own life decisions, allowing them to pursue a career or envision a different path for themselves, and then they will probably choose to have fewer children.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This opinion was solidified after reading <u><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Half-Sky-Oppression-Opportunity-Worldwide/dp/0307387097/ref=tmm_pap_title_0">Half the Sky</a></u> by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn – highly recommended book.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Peace Corps Volunteers in Uganda have started an annual program called Camp GLOW – Girls Leading Our World – which is a week of empowering activities for young girls which I hope to be really involved with at the end of 2011; I can even nominate girls from my village to attend.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Of course, to empower women, you must involve men and change their ideas about gender roles, so ‘women empowerment’ should involve both men and women.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>While I won’t single-handedly change the gender roles and treatment of women in Uganda, I hope I can help improve the lives of a few women and girls around me.</p>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-37724486007485213672011-01-30T09:06:00.006+03:002011-01-30T15:09:45.346+03:00Life is a Raging River<div style="text-align: left;">Probably the most exciting thing to happen recently was when most of our training group headed to Jinja for white water rafting on the Nile! The night before was the booze cruise at the source of the Nile (where Lake Victoria flows into the Nile), where we had beautiful sunset views of the area. We stayed in a campsite/hostel run by the rafting company, and were all overwhelmed by the number of attractive muzungus there – we hadn’t seen that many Westerners (besides each other) for months. I remembered why I love backpacker places so much – in an hour or two, I met people from Scotland, Canada, England, South Africa, New Zealand, Australia, and Denmark. Makes me excited to backpack again after Peace Corps and before I get strapped down with vet school loans.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TUUdi-hCe9I/AAAAAAAAKWY/ZzyiKK8XrEA/s400/P1020092.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567889001047817170" /><div><div style="text-align: center;">Drinking a Nile on the Nile</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TUUdK99bMnI/AAAAAAAAKWQ/guw-kEu7HuU/s400/IMG_0402.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567888588581581426" /><div style="text-align: center;">Our training class on the Nile booze cruise</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TUUhK2C7C7I/AAAAAAAAKWg/uRuLwyVvMJ0/s400/P1020114.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567892984503667634" /><div><br />The rafting itself was soooo much fun (although a few people were feeling the effects of the booze cruise the night before – the guy who organized our trip almost literally missed the boat because he overslept). Not only were the rapids crazy (it’s really like a water rollercoaster), but because we knew almost everyone else on the river, we really had a blast. I was in a raft with some of my favorite people and we were cracking jokes the whole time. Our mantra was “Stay in the f***ing boat”, and we only flipped once and nobody drowned, so the mantra seemed to work for us. Between rapids, we would jump out of the raft in the calm stretches of water and just drift down the Nile, thinking about how we were on our way to Egypt. At one point, we were on a Class V rapid and were told there were two routes – one to the left, which was some ‘normal’ Class V rapids, and one to the right, which went over a <i>waterfall</i>. We ended up on the right, but got stuck on a rock at the top, allowing us to tremble in fear as we looked over the edge of the 8-10 foot drop. We were the last raft over, so everyone else was waiting at the bottom, watching us – and it was actually fun! We didn’t jackknife and flip over like I thought we would, and now I can say I went over a waterfall while rafting on the Nile. That night, we all watched the video as a group back at the campsite and laughed hysterically at the ridiculous flips, the facial expressions, and the crazy antics of our whole group.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TUUkxmHLF8I/AAAAAAAAKWw/NtkbR7CkF_8/s400/IMG_2929.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567896948776310722" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TUUcueSx-6I/AAAAAAAAKWI/K65CanK-riI/s400/IMG_2871c.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567888099044883362" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Going over the waterfall!</div><div><br /><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TUUcbMi1IiI/AAAAAAAAKWA/u9vQPt1EKko/s400/IMG_2898.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567887767862845986" /><div style="text-align: center;">The one time we did not "stay in the f***ing boat"</div></div><div><br />However, while being a tourist around Jinja, I was acutely aware of the impoverished people we were passing and felt very uncomfortable, despite the fact that I’m not strictly a tourist and I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer trying to help Ugandans. I don’t remember feeling this bad about my tourist excursions in Africa in 2008, and I’m actually glad I have more than just a twinge of guilt now. But what am I to do? I want to do the touristy things when I have the money saved up, and I am pretty much completely against hand-outs to local people. Still, it feels awful to be driving by in a big truck on the way to rafting, or waving to people in a dugout canoe while I’m on a booze cruise having a great time, trying to be friendly but also feeling like I’m sticking my tongue out at them by waving.<br /><br />Between Christmas, New Years, and the workshops in Kampala, I’ve been away from my site entirely too much lately, so now I have no plans to travel for at least a month. We had almost two weeks of workshops on language, project design and management, and teaching life skills in Kampala before rafting (staying in a nice hotel with hot showers, TVs, delicious buffet meals, and a swimming pool along with my 44 friends from training was amazing), so I’m working to implement new skills at site. I’m trying to move away from my previous duties as “pill counter” in the clinic (with some resistance from my organization, but full backing from Peace Corps) and am now working on lesson plans in Runyankore-Rukiga for health education at our clinic and the primary schools, hopefully starting life skills classes for adolescent girls, still working to start a dairy cooperative, plans for demonstrating compost piles and SODIS – solar water disinfection using only regular water bottles, continuing my hand washing/tippy-tap ‘campaign’, and preparing for the arrival of a donated microscope from the U.S.! Thank you to Mom and her neighbors for finding one – now we’ll be able to do malaria testing at our health center. My head is still swirling with ideas for projects to work on but putting ideas into action isn’t always easy here (and it probably shouldn’t be if I’m doing it right and getting full community involvement with the activities).<br /><br />Thank you to everyone who sent a Christmas package, and Kibo thanks everyone who sent dog treats (there were several! We are now fully stocked with Pupperoni, Milk Bones, and Beggin’ Strips). Kibo is now 4 ½ months old and is definitely in an awkward teenage stage. My counterpart’s two dogs now come by on a daily basis, or she sometimes goes to visit them at their house up the hill – really adorable. It's like watching 6-year-olds go over to each other's houses to play - "I'll be back for supper, Mom!" They’re always really happy to see each other, and I’m glad my dog has friends. :)<br /><br />Random thoughts:<br />I recently splurged on the expensive, imported American peanut butter and have eaten almost the entire jar by the spoonful in 5 days – I’m essentially vegetarian while at site so I need my protein somehow!<br /><br />I continue to have random people, usually kids but sometimes adults, show up at my door and just stare in my doorway, and don’t seem to get the problem when I ask, “Nooyenda ki?” (“what do you want?”) and they just shrug and continue to stare.<br /><br />There are a ton of bats living in my ceiling, and I have no idea what to do about it.<br /><br />It’s been really hot here lately and we haven’t had rain in weeks – I can’t wait for the wet season to roll around. It’s supposed to be raining at this time of year but global warming has altered the timing of the wet and dry seasons, causing lots of problems for farmers (and everyone is a farmer here).</div></div></div></div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-89438007730981675742011-01-13T18:49:00.002+03:002011-01-13T18:52:51.116+03:00Pictures of My House!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8ffhhw9-I/AAAAAAAAKV4/YXUK11ON9cA/s1600/IMG_2394.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8ffhhw9-I/AAAAAAAAKV4/YXUK11ON9cA/s400/IMG_2394.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561698691262248930" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My living room. A sofa set and picture wall are in my near future!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8ffcVxl-I/AAAAAAAAKVw/DFIwKvCk-oA/s1600/IMG_2380.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8ffcVxl-I/AAAAAAAAKVw/DFIwKvCk-oA/s400/IMG_2380.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561698689869780962" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My bedroom</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8fZAOH7TI/AAAAAAAAKVo/YJYMu_oEi5c/s1600/IMG_2381.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8fZAOH7TI/AAAAAAAAKVo/YJYMu_oEi5c/s400/IMG_2381.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561698579242282290" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My bedroom</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8fY-vZ7XI/AAAAAAAAKVg/Nzo3cS_6qZg/s1600/IMG_2375.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8fY-vZ7XI/AAAAAAAAKVg/Nzo3cS_6qZg/s400/IMG_2375.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561698578845003122" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My indoor bucket-bathing room</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8fYpNfasI/AAAAAAAAKVY/Bh3bzTNlVBc/s1600/IMG_2389e.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8fYpNfasI/AAAAAAAAKVY/Bh3bzTNlVBc/s400/IMG_2389e.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561698573065611970" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My kitchen. I cook on a gas stove and have a sink! No running water, but a sink!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8fYJF4SEI/AAAAAAAAKVQ/ErLmwq2FTcM/s1600/P1020023.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8fYJF4SEI/AAAAAAAAKVQ/ErLmwq2FTcM/s400/P1020023.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561698564443752514" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Pit latrine with my beautiful tippy tap for washing my hands</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8fYB1zJ7I/AAAAAAAAKVI/SZw8p-nTfiI/s1600/P1020025.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS8fYB1zJ7I/AAAAAAAAKVI/SZw8p-nTfiI/s400/P1020025.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561698562497259442" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Where the important business happens.</div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-37142959170818137452011-01-12T17:41:00.001+03:002011-01-12T17:43:29.808+03:00Health Care in Uganda – Problems determined, solutions unknownHere's my latest blog post for <a href="http://scoutbanana.org">SCOUT BANANA</a>, the awesome organization I was involved with at MSU:<div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal">The health care system in Uganda is overrun with problems.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As a community health volunteer for Peace Corps, I have been working with a Health Center II (a basic-services clinic) and have been assessing the state of health care here in Uganda.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">While government health care is intended to be free, there are so many hidden costs that patients are often still unable to afford health care.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The government provides free drugs and care, but when those drugs run out (which is all-too-often), the patients are responsible for going to a private drug shop and buying their medicines.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Women who want to deliver at a government health center are often required to bring their own “mother kit”, a set of supplies which can include such things as cotton, gloves, needles, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At our small Health Center II, we have no capability of running tests such as urinalysis, blood smears for malaria, or even taking blood pressure, and often have to refer patients to either a larger government health center or a private clinic for the care they need.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Many people cannot afford even 4,000 Ugandan shillings roundtrip (less than $2) to the Health Center III, a few kilometers away, for testing or maternal care, let alone a trip to a private clinic where all costs are out-of-pocket.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Some of our patients walk several miles to get to our clinic.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Malaria is one of the leading causes of morbidity and mortality, and is severely over-diagnosed.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Practically everyone with a fever is given anti-malarial drugs, and subsequently health centers often run out of the drugs before the next shipment arrives from the government.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The cost of these drugs in a private drug shop can be 15,000/- (about $7), which is too expensive for the average rural Ugandan.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The nurses at the health centers have little choice when they have no way to test for malaria before dispensing drugs – if the patient does have malaria and is not treated, he or she could die.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Better to be safe than sorry, but being safe in this situation causes its own host of problems.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">There is also a big problem with motivation among health workers.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Salaries are very low, and some workers feel no obligation to give good ‘customer service’, which is a huge concern in privatized health care systems such as the U.S.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Health workers often show up whenever they feel like it, and leave the clinic hours before the official closing time, leaving some patients to wait for hours to be seen.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A small aspect of this stems from the culture where family comes first – if the nurse has to harvest millet or help a family member out, they don’t see a big problem in staying home.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">So what, as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV), can I do?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It’s a difficult question to answer – if there were an easy fix, Uganda would have great health care.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>PCVs don’t come with any funding or external assistance, we come to act as change agents and co-facilitators to mobilize local resources and work with what is already available.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>While it’s difficult to make system-wide changes or improve facilities and equipment without funding, I am working to encourage healthy behaviors, build capacity among health workers, and provide people with the knowledge they need to keep themselves and their families happy.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Another PCV I know is working at the district health office, so he can encourage health officials to improve efficiency and make positive changes in the health care system.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>These are small steps, not a big NGO project with millions of dollars backing it, but these small steps are (hopefully) sustainable, using local resources and requiring the community to get involved to make changes in their own lives.</p></div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-37181595415184762322011-01-12T14:37:00.003+03:002011-01-12T20:46:40.229+03:00Hati ndi Mukiga! Well, almost...<div><p class="MsoNormal">Life in Uganda isn’t easy.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>One of the reasons that Americans can focus so hard on being productive and getting lots of professional work done is that their daily routines are easy.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They don’t spend several hours hand-washing their clothes, cooking over firewood or charcoal, or waiting for what could be hours for a car to come by in order to get to the market.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’ve never appreciated washing machines as much as after spending a couple of hours scrubbing away in the hot sun and only getting a few outfits washed.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Please viciously shake me if I ever complain about doing laundry in the U.S. ever again – you throw it in a machine, add some soap, hit a button, and come back in an hour.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My neighbors are all busy harvesting millet, groundnuts (peanuts), maize, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There is always something that needs to be done in their fields – thus the life of the subsistence farmer, and here everyone is a subsistence farmer, even the nurse next door and the businessman up the road.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was helping to harvest millet and spread it in the sun to dry, and this simple act threw the groundskeeper into hysterics, especially when I said, “Hati ndi Mukiga” – now I am a Mukiga (person of one of the local tribes, the Bakiga – half of the name of the language I’m learning, Runyankore-Rukiga).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>That happens a lot – when I was learning how to harvest the millet the other day, people stopped and stared/laughed at the muzungu.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Imagine!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A white person doing manual labor and working in the fields!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I just met with the local dairy farmers to do a needs assessment, and they have decided to start a cooperative to increase their bargaining power (the middleman who buys their milk just dropped his buying price from 500/- Ugandan shillings (about 23 cents) to only 250/- per liter).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m going to be helping them form the cooperative, come up with marketing strategies, and I’ll also be teaching them different management systems and husbandry techniques.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I want to host a lecture series at their meetings and teach them about such things as hay/silage making for the dry season, zero-grazing systems, cow health and nutrition, breeding, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I also found out there is no veterinarian close by, so I might even get to implement the Community Animal Health Worker training program I designed during training (and that I also researched for my Specialization in International Development senior capstone project at Michigan State).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m so excited!!!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m finally doing something that I envisioned for myself when I joined Peace Corps.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s mango season!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The other day, I went for a beautiful walk up to the top of a hill with my neighbors to someone’s house (I still don’t know whose house it was), where we ate our fill of mangoes (and it was a lot of mangoes), took in the views of the distant mountains, then brought home a huge sack of mangoes, which we used to make fresh mango juice!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Sooo delicious and no added sugar needed.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Too bad we have no refrigerator – the juice is only good for a couple of days.</p></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SxnjBGWI/AAAAAAAAKU8/rJz4We_Aa40/s1600/P1020034.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SxnjBGWI/AAAAAAAAKU8/rJz4We_Aa40/s400/P1020034.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561262495999531362" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Making homemade mango juice with the neighbors</p><p class="MsoNormal">Kibo is doing great and getting huge – 4 months old now, probably weighs 25+ pounds, and a little calmer but sometimes still a little terror (especially to the neighbor’s chickens – she loves to chase them).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She’s wary of strangers, but in general likes women way more than men.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If she doesn’t know a man, she barks viciously before running the other direction.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Her latest stunt happened when I was getting water at the stream (the rainwater tank is low so we’re saving that water for drinking only, and water for bathing and washing is coming from the stream).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was standing knee-deep in the water, filling my jerry can.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There’s a big rock in the stream, and Kibo was standing on top of it.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was thinking how she looked pretty regal up there, and what a good-looking dog she is in general, when she decided to jump to the opposite bank…except she was about two feet short and came down in a magnificent belly flop right next to me, soaking both of us. Terrorized, she quickly swam/ran out of the stream and back towards the house.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I haven’t laughed so hard in days – definitely some much-needed comic relief.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She’s a great, affectionate dog (she loves to cuddle and she still follows me everywhere when I’m near the house), and I’m definitely planning to bring her back to the U.S. after service.</p><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2Sxtg71nI/AAAAAAAAKU0/AKzftgTYjRc/s1600/P1010990c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2Sxtg71nI/AAAAAAAAKU0/AKzftgTYjRc/s400/P1010990c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561262497601410674" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">The next couple of weeks include Peace Corps workshops in Kampala on language and project design/management – very excited to see people I haven’t seen in a few months.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Then, our entire training group is going white water rafting on the Nile!</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">P.S. Our first patient the other morning, a 1-year-old baby, was named Obama.</p></div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-67699548744556895602011-01-12T14:34:00.003+03:002011-01-12T17:45:30.128+03:00Photos from Christmas and New Years<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SEfYJLKI/AAAAAAAAKUs/KTQl_VSzbJk/s1600/100_3686.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SEfYJLKI/AAAAAAAAKUs/KTQl_VSzbJk/s400/100_3686.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561261720712326306" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">With some of my Peace Corps besties :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SEOdYIqI/AAAAAAAAKUk/uxDAkW64pII/s1600/P1010869.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SEOdYIqI/AAAAAAAAKUk/uxDAkW64pII/s400/P1010869.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561261716170875554" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Our beautiful Christmas tree. The Yankee Swap gifts have such classy wrapping.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SD4TQ46I/AAAAAAAAKUc/e5qt-HgwE7E/s1600/P1010949.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SD4TQ46I/AAAAAAAAKUc/e5qt-HgwE7E/s400/P1010949.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561261710222877602" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We're on a boat! PCVs heading to our private island at Lake Bunyonyi for New Years</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SDjdd3vI/AAAAAAAAKUU/7y-VpXylh9g/s1600/P1010959.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SDjdd3vI/AAAAAAAAKUU/7y-VpXylh9g/s400/P1010959.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561261704628526834" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Lake Bunyonyi</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SDUYHmPI/AAAAAAAAKUM/gJnh5kgU7YY/s1600/P1010972.jpg"></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SDUYHmPI/AAAAAAAAKUM/gJnh5kgU7YY/s1600/P1010972.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TS2SDUYHmPI/AAAAAAAAKUM/gJnh5kgU7YY/s400/P1010972.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561261700579563762" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Lake Bunyonyi from our private island :)</div></div></div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-90044076918641549842011-01-05T20:00:00.000+03:002011-01-05T20:13:28.913+03:00Yankee Swaps and Private Islands and Skinny Dipping, oh my…It’s beginning to feel a lot like…. summer. It always feels like summer here to me, so it’s hard to believe that it’s truly Christmas time without freezing temperatures, streetlamps decorated with wreaths and lights (there are no streetlamps), sweaters and scarves, fireplaces, decorating the tree with family, people bustling around for shopping, etc. <br /><br />For Christmas, I headed back to Kasese to spend the holiday with some of my best friends in Peace Corps. Along the way, the road passes through Queen Elizabeth National Park, and I saw at least 60 elephants, including one huge bull that crossed the road right in front of the taxi! Merry Christmas from Mother Africa.<br /><br />We went swimming on Christmas Eve – felt a little out of place, but the pool had gorgeous vistas of the mountains and the plains below, and we listened to some good American tunes, courtesy of a former PCV who had her wedding there and left the CDs behind. For dinner, we went back up to Hotel Margherita, where we waited forever for our food but it was worth it – FILET MIGNON! Best meat I’ve had in Uganda, hands down, and only 9,000 (about $4). Good meat is a rare thing to come by here – usually it’s tough, fatty, and full of bones.<br /><br />On Christmas Day, we had French toast and scrambled eggs, then went to lunch at a friend’s supervisor’s house. A Ugandan holiday isn’t complete without really cheesy 80’s-style music videos playing, so we were treated to an hour or two of some random African music group singing in fur coats with various scenes set in Russia, the Caribbean, etc., followed by a video of the supervisor’s wedding. The food was good, typical Ugandan fare – matooke, chicken, goat, pasta, potatoes, pineapple, etc. I got a wonderful text from my host family wishing me a Merry Christmas, so called them to reciprocate – so good to talk to them. In the afternoon, we had a Yankee Swap gift exchange with such coveted items as JIF peanut butter, pirated DVDs, or Annie’s macaroni and cheese. For dinner, we went to a nice hotel in town for a delicious buffet, then returned to Skype with family and friends. I also got my first guitar lesson from one of my friends and am planning to buy a guitar soon – I really want to learn to play while I’m here.<br /><br />For New Years, a bunch of PCVs rented out a private island at Lake Bunyonyi, a gorgeous spot in the mountains near the Rwandan border. The island is a basic camp with bandas and tents (yours truly was camping), pit latrines with seats, really delicious buffets, and beautiful views across the lake – all for about $10 a day. We spent our days swimming in the cool water (hello schisto!), getting sunburned after about 20 minutes in the equatorial sun, reading, napping, playing Euchre with other Midwesterners in the group, and just chilling. So nice. I’m not sure why just chilling felt so nice because I already have so much downtime at my site, but I definitely felt like a tourist – a very nice change of pace.<br /><br />On New Years Eve, we all split the cost of a generator and speakers so we could have a dance party. During dinner, our music was switched off so we could watch some traditional Bakiga (Ba-chee-gah) dancers and even joined in for some of the songs. After that, we danced the night away, and had our own countdown to midnight. This might be the first time I haven’t watched the ball drop on TV (except the one time I was actually in NYC for New Years). A little after midnight, a group of us decided to ring in 2011 by skinny dipping! Thank God there was no moon so it was pitch black – you literally couldn’t see anybody else if you tried. It takes living in Africa to realize that white people glow in the dark. Also good to know that there are no (known) crocodiles in Lake Bunyonyi.<br /><br />Possibly the most exciting thing that’s happened lately is returning to my village after the holidays to discover that a local pastor has set up a chapatti/rolex stand about 300 meters from my house!! Seriously, I don’t think anyone except for PCVs in Uganda would understand the excitement. I can now get a delicious egg-and-chapatti roll (rolex) for 800 shillings (about 35 cents). Amazing.<br /><br />Other recent activities: learned how to make a compost pile from a fellow PCV which I hope to do as a demonstration in my village, and watched the installation of a biogas digester at my counterpart’s house (takes cow dung and captures the methane to use for cooking and lights). One of the most shocking things that happened lately was when I was teaching HIV fact vs. fiction with another PCV at a youth conference. One of the fiction statements was, “White people brought HIV to Africa to kill Africans.” The kids burst out in an enthusiastic “Yes!” even clapping and laughing. It was the biggest reaction we got from them during the whole session. While a Ugandan facilitator explained that it was a joke, my friend and I were really upset by it. I sort of get why they would make a joke like that, but regardless, when two white PCVs have dedicated their lives to helping Ugandans and the kids decide to laugh and say white people brought HIV here, it hurts.<br /><br />We’re all a little nervous about the upcoming elections in mid-February. Presidential elections in Africa are rarely peaceful, and Peace Corps has had to pull out of a number of countries before, whether for just a few weeks or even sometimes permanently, due to political violence. Some of my Ugandan friends say it will be peaceful with no problems, while others are convinced there will be riots. Museveni has been in office since 1986, and he remains very popular in my area, which is his home district. However, other areas of Uganda have grown tired of him and are ready for change. While we’re all hopeful that things work out for the best, it’s something on our minds, and we’re mentally preparing ourselves for the possibility that the elections might not go so smoothly here. Time will tell either way, and for now we just have to keep on keeping on.<br /><br />I’ll post pictures from these adventures another time – the internet is just too slow and spotty at my site.Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6983600694482726710.post-22696397418773702052010-12-15T22:26:00.007+03:002010-12-16T12:38:43.353+03:00Random Notes on Ugandan Culture<ul><li>Breastfeeding in public is not just normal, it’s everywhere. Boobs everywhere. I’ve heard that male PCVs serving in Africa complain that for them, breasts lose their sexuality because they’re just out, all the time, feeding babies. I mean, that’s their function, but it’s so taboo to do out in the open in the U.S. that it’s a shock here to see it on a daily basis. Sometimes the women have finished breastfeeding but just leave the girls out, flapping in the wind. But God help you if you wear a skirt that shows your knees – completely inappropriate.</li><li>Today, the nurse I was working with decided to play music out-loud from his phone. His choices? Enya and Celine Dion. Back to back. Not kidding.</li><li>Small car taxis. These are the only vehicles which come to my village for which I have Peace Corps approval (we are not allowed to ride boda-bodas, the ubiquitous motorcycle taxis). They’re essentially an older Toyota Corolla that fits quite literally ten adults in it on a regular basis – 6ish in the back, 2 in the passenger seat, and – probably my favorite part – a passenger sharing the seat with the driver (who is driving a stick-shift). Definitely safe. There’s often a few small children sitting on laps and a poor chicken thrown into the trunk for good measure.</li><li>I’ve been asked before such things as, “Are you from America or Italy?” as if there are no other choices. I even had one person in Kampala yell at me, “Hello, Japan!” Perception of foreigners is funny, and my guess is most people think that all muzungus are from the only country that they themselves have met people from.</li><li>The security guard at a friend’s site offered me his 5-year-old son to take back to America with me. When I said, “Won’t you miss each other too much?” he replied, “I have three other children.” While I know he has his son’s best interests in mind (an education in America is an opportunity most people here would never dream of), his response shocked me.</li><li>I've been told by several Ugandans, "Your English is very good." I usually think the statement is so ridiculous, English being my first language, that I just say "Thank you," but I think they mean I speak clearly and they can understand me. I adopt my own "Ugandan voice" when speaking with local people - speaking more clearly and slowly. Maybe that's what they mean. Some Americans/foreigners just keep blabbering at their normal speed and nobody understands them.</li><li>The ideas determining what is rude and what is not are almost reversed from the U.S. It is rude to confront someone directly about a problem you have with them (better to go through a friend or relative), but it is perfectly okay to walk into someone’s house without asking (for instance, my house) while that person is eating or otherwise preoccupied – thus leaving me in a conundrum about how to tell said person to leave. It is rude not to greet someone, but it is not rude to inquire a perfect stranger about their religion, their marital status, and why they aren’t yet married. It is rude to eat while walking on the street, but it is in fact good manners to tell someone they are fat (it’s a compliment). It’s not rude to slap someone’s arm to get their attention, inquire how much someone else’s stuff costs, arrive two hours late to a meeting, or to stare openly. It’s sometimes very hard to remind myself the cultural differences and not get irate at certain behaviors I consider, from my American perspective, very rude.</li><li>Ugandan English is funny and often throws me for a loop. It’s amazing how many variations of “English” there are in the world, and how even native English speakers from different countries sometimes struggle to understand each other. Words/phrases of note:</li></ul><ol><li>“Extend” – move over, we have to fit a 7th person in the backseat of the taxi, and no, you don’t get a discount for losing feeling in your left leg</li><li>Ugandans like to insert a rhetorical “what?” into the middle of a sentence to see if you’re listening. For instance: “We are meeting in Kampala to do what? To go shopping.”</li><li>“Hmm/ehhh” – I’m acknowledging what you’ve just said. For instance, if you ask someone “How did you spend the night?” and they reply “Very well”, you say “Hmmm” to prove you were listening.</li><li>“Smart” – well-dressed. “Clever” means intelligent.</li><li>“How do you find the place?” – do you like it here? How’s life?</li><li>“You increase” – you’re paying too little, you’re white and rich, please pay more</li><li>“You reduce” – you’re overcharging me, I’m white but I’m a volunteer, bring your price down</li><li>“It is finished/it is over” – we’re out of stock. This phrase is heard far too often in this country</li><li>Non-verbal "words" - instead of saying "yes", Ugandans often just quickly raise their eyebrows. I've started subconsciously doing this. I'm afraid I will be so weird when I try to have a conversation back in the U.S. Ugandans also will point with their lips when you ask where something is.</li></ol><div><br /><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7OuW4xBZFek/TQkW6F8o3bI/AAAAAAAAKTU/U4I8nArxL9A/s400/P1010691sm.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550993202995584434" /><div style="text-align: center;">At my post office in Mbarara. This pretty much sums everything up.</div></div>Britt Larsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15553910443299574394noreply@blogger.com0