Privilege

During my internship I went out of my way to meet with refugees who had camped outside of an office building that dealt with refugee laws and etc. Every time I would go there, I met young kids my age being in a very challenging phase of their life. Most had lost families to the war in Congo and many of the girls had been raped and had never been HIV tested. Every time I went there, they would approach me as if I was going to do something for them. In most cases I just offered them my ears and had them throw their hearts out. For one of the Congolese girls who had been raped about a year ago and had not been HIV tested I tried to find an Ngo that would offer her a free medical treatment.

Many of the refugees would come to me and ask specifically why I was there. Many of them had assumed that I was there to provide money for them. They automatically assumed that since I was from Canada, I had lots of money to help them out from their challenging life style. Many times I had to tell them that I was a student and didn’t have much money to offer them.

My trips to see the refugees, who I had made friends with, were a strange experience. I wanted them to know that I was not just ‘observing’ them, but in fact I wanted to get close to them and perhaps become friends with them and remind them how special they could be to a total stranger like my self. However, every time that I went there I was perceived as a ‘saviour’. A Muzungo (white person) who is here to hear us and help us, mostly financially. But I wasn’t. Even though I was fully aware of my privilege to come from a place like Canada and had the life style that I have been having, especially compare to the refugees who had left everything that they have had to come to a mess that I had perceived in Uganda, I was also aware of how unprivileged I was not to be able to help any body out.

Many times my privilege was quite a barrier for me to really get close to the people and try to understand their pain. I was always fully aware of how my privileges had created an unequal paradigm that was mostly seen as a barrier for me to get close to the people. Many times, throughout my trip in Uganda, I did different things to hide it, but in many cases the colour of my skin kind of gave it away.

Although in many cases my privilege created a barrier, but I didn’t forget how it is because of my privilege that I look at the differences as a barrier. If I was not privileged enough, I would not have recognized the difference and I definitely would not have tried to create some sort of equality with the people who didn’t have my privileges. I guess my privileges always acted like a catch 22. If I didn’t have them I wasn’t happy and now that I do, I am still not satisfied.

Gender

Even though I am originally from Iran, which is considered as a Muslim country and there is a huge gender difference in everything from politics to the domestic life, I was still quite surprised to see a few things in Uganda that were not so gender sensitive. The interesting thing is that every time I pointed out these gender issues, many Ugandan women looked at me as if I was way too “westernized”.

My first day in Kampala, I had to walk by my self in the city’s busiest section. I was suppose to go with the driver from our office who seemed like a very nice guy. When we parked the car to walk to the central bank for me to exchange my money, it was interesting for me to see that the Driver was walking 10 steps ahead of me and every 100 steps he would look back to see whether I was still behind him or not. Although I had see this before in Iran, but still I found it interesting since it was definitely a cultural practice. While I was trying so hard to keep up with him, I was also very scared because I thought that since I was a white girl, I was probably going to be verbally harassed by all the men who were hanging out on the street shouting for people to buy something from them. This was definitely my assumption. I was quite surprised to see the very few times that I was verbally harassed by men in Kampala. This was definitely against my assumptions.

One of the most fascinating gender differences that I noticed was in the concept of marriage amongst the local Ugandans. When my housemate told me that her father had 4 wives and has have kids with 4 other women beside his wives I was shocked. Iran, which is a patriarchal society doesn’t even have that. It was challenging for me to understand it at fist. But they talked about it as if it was something quite natural. I also came across a few young ladies who were in their mid 20s who were proposed to become the second or third wife of a wealthy man in their neighbourhood. At first I thought that it was normalized. Alice, my housemate, told me that her mom raised 3 children that were brought by her father whose mother she did not know who they were. When I asked Alice how her mother felt about it, she admitted that her mother was always very sad. But she never really had a choice to say anything. I went to their home once, and I must admit that I didn’t get to see much of Alice’s mom since she spent so much time in the kitchen preparing food for us and of course the head of the household who was Alice’s father. I tried to help her in the kitchen so she could perhaps join us for a nice talk; she felt insulted almost and asked me to go back to the living room. Alice later told me that her mother feels like she owns the kitchen and no one should interfere with her business there.

I guess it all comes down to what makes people happy. If I had the life style that Alice’s mom has had, I don’t know how happy I would have been. But seeing her so happy and upbeat reminded me how we are culturally diverse and how we must learn to accept our differences.

Culture Shock

Before my trip, I thought that sine I spent many years moving to different places, culture shock will be the least of my worries. Now, 7 weeks in to my internship placement in Kampala, I’m surprised to see how difficult it is to bear with certain things that were extremely interesting at the beginning of my trip.
After 7 weeks I find my self comfortable enough to go to different places and do grocery shopping and etc. however, it seems that my tolerance for being stared at most of the time has decreased quite dramatically. It turned out that after all, I don’t like the spot light as much as I thought I would.
Due to feeling like a “Mozoongoo” (it is a phrase in Lugandan which means a ‘white guy’ that I hear on regular basis) all the time, I am no longer enthused to travel a lot. Traveling to touristy areas via public transportation takes away the comfortable feeling that I get in the community that I live right now. I have established an interesting relationship with the people in the ‘village’ and even though I am only a “Mozoongoo” to them, they help me out in the things that I need and I always slip an extra dollar or .50 Cents which surprisingly makes their day.

The conversations that I have with people are starting to make more sense since I am more accustomed to the slangs and accents. However I still have hard time understanding the conversations that contains shortened sentences. These “short” sentences are like an abbreviation of a sentence. It is when they only say 2-3 key words of the sentence and automatically assume that you know what they are talking about. To be honest with you, I am starting to get quite irritated by it, but I keep telling my self that I am in their country; therefore I have to adjust my self. I admit that it could be quite challenging at times.
The traffic of the city and the pollution has a tendency to put me in a not so friendly mood. But what amazes me is the calmness of people despite of being stuck in traffic without any movement for about 2 hours (true story).
I guess it is a given that I am also beginning to see how people treat me differently compare to the locals. This is something that I failed to see at the beginning of my trip. But now I see some people being nicer to me and some being able to cheat me the way I never though I could be cheated.
After 7 weeks I noticed that I have drawn closer to certain people and drawn apart from those that I used to hang out with all the time. It’s as if everything is transforming and more do I find my self thinking about home and my friends and family. Don’t get me wrong, I am not home sick and I still enjoy everything that is out here, even the times when I just want to scream at people for acting so calm and slow in certain situations. I am enjoying everything about it and all the feelings that I get while being here, however it seems like in 6 weeks time, I will be more than ready to head back to my home and the people who I am close to.
In the meantime, I enjoy being a “Mozoongoo” even though it pisses me off sometimes. At times, I need to remind my self to appreciate the differences, however I still find my self happy every time I put a smile on the faces of the children by simply just waving at them. I must admit that none of the things that I mentioned bothering me earlier prevents me from admiring Ugandans and Africans in general. I have had a chance to meet with many refugees from all over Africa and more and more do I become amazed by their tolerance and the hope that exists amongst them. I can say for certain that this trip is not going to be my last trip to Africa and I know, from now on, my interest in this region will only increase.

Environmental issues

Ever since I arrived in Kampala, I never really came across a detailed conversation or discussion about the environmental issues and the mainstreamed notion of Global Warming. The only time that I can remember talking about Global Warming was that one time when I asked when the raining season ends in Uganda, other than that I cannot think of any other conversations about the environment. To me it seems like the people of Uganda are consumed with other issues in their lives (different diseases, increase in food prices and etc) that they fail to encounter the importance of environmental issues that people out West are constantly distressing about.

Although people do not pay enough attention to environmental issues here in Kampala, every day that I finish a bottle of mineral water, I am reminded of the lack of attention to such issues. For the purpose of this assignment, I asked my land lady about recycling in Uganda. She said that in Kampala, there are no separate bins for recycling; in fact there are “private” companies that suppose to go through the garbage to avoid the burning of the plastic bottles. She was as skeptical as you probably are right now but she didn’t seem to be really disturbed by it.
Uganda was identified as the “Pearl of Africa” by Churchill…I am pretty sure he was not referring to today’s downtown Kampala. The city is polluted by car and noise pollution. Almost all taxis send out enough CO2s that can increase your chances of getting lung cancer by more than 50%. The most I have seen people do is to pull their windows up so they won’t DIRECTLY inhale the pollution. Quite a few times I have been laughed at by people for complaining about the amount of CO2s that I inhale on regular basis. But can you really blame them for making fun of me?

At situations like this, I keep forgetting that most of the residences of Kampala are so consumed and troubled by their day to day lives that they fail to encounter greater issues that is affecting people on a larger scale, i.e. the environmental issues. Aside from people’s enthusiasm for Obama, I haven’t seen people being too consumed about world news. Even though they read news papers almost religiously, they fail to pay too much attention to what is happening outside of their continent. Some may call it ignorance, but to me, I think that it is due to their troubled lives. When a family is worried about finding food for themselves or the threat of HIV, I am pretty sure they couldn’t care any less about issues that might affect them on a larger scale.

Going back to environmental issues, I think that the struggle that people face on a day to day basis, fails them to pay any attention to the environment. However, since consumption is quite limited due to people’s lack of capital and access, the exploitation of the environment is happening in a more sustainable pace than any where in the Western world.

Animal Rights

I don’t think I ever mentioned that my office is in the building that belongs to the Foundation for Human Rights Initiatives. The other day I was entering the building when I found a cow wondering around the entrance of the building. I thought it was quite ironic that an animal had found itself by the building for Human Rights Initiatives. I thought maybe he had lost his way to the building for Animal Rights Initiatives or maybe it wanted one of us “activists” to refer him to the animal rights section. I then, snapped out of the little fantasy world that I had created for my self and thought about animals here in this part of the world.

initiative

When I first arrived here, I was so excited to find different kind of farm animals on the streets of Kampala. It is quite common to find cows, goats, rosters, chickens and dogs. And I must say that it is also common to see them be in the worst possible condition which is not so easy for animal lovers like myself to witness. Being a social science geek that I am, every day I began to observe people’s behavior towards these animals on the street. After a few times that I had to say something to a few kids who were throwing stones at a dog, I was all of a sudden aware of my western perspective towards animals and my urge for “animal rights”.

I started to think about the definition of animal rights and tried to be as objective as I could possibly be. I tried to describe it for my self, and every time I ended up having the Northern/Western perspective which apparently is the perspective of the rich who have hard time realizing what its like to not have meat for months. I brought this point up in a conversation with a few Ugandans and their argument was that people in Uganda (Africa) are too consumed with sympathizing with the unbearable condition that most of the people live in that they have lost their compassion towards animals.

This got me thinking. If the most parts of the continent of Africa have been suffering the “unbearable” living conditions for human beings for years and sympathy towards animals has been the last thing on their minds, can someone argue that “sympathy” towards animals is no longer part of their culture? in case this statement is true, than can we argue that animal rights is not so much of a “universal right” but it is a right that the western culture has created and have imposed upon different cultures in the word? I don’t know about you, but to me it sounds like the way that “animal rights” is currently practiced can be seen as a form of “cultural imperialism”.

I know that I could be creating a huge debate over this, but don’t forget that I am all for “animal rights”. The only thing is that I think I have been socialized this way, and if I was to be socialized elsewhere in the world and was never exposed to the Western media and culture, I most likely would have been violating “animal rights” with out feeling guilty.

However when the argument comes down to the illegal hunting of animals that are distinct such as tigers and panda bears, I don’t think that it is the culture that is the driving force, rather it is the market.

After all I think in most cases, what we call the violation of “animal rights” in the East is inherited in the culture, and in cases that are otherwise, the violation is driven by the market forces, i.e capitalism. Culture is one of the most complex concepts that were ever created; therefore questioning the culturally inherited violations of animal rights opens a can of warms that has many sociologists and anthropologists thinking for years.

I am not too sure whether you can label my views as liberal or conservative, but I believe that since we all live in a globe where many cultures coexists, striving for one form of culture (which is usually the dominant one, i.e. the Western culture) can only destroy the beauty of the multi coloured planet that we call the Earth.

Hope

I can hardly believe that today is officially the second week that I am in Kampala. Compare to what I had expected, things seem to be a lot smoother than what I had expected. Since I am interning in a Human rights organization, I come across many interesting/inspiring/depressing issues through out the day. I have had a chance to meet amazing activists from in and out of Uganda and I have had a chance to hear from them what it is like to be human rights activist in certain regions.

About a week ago with the help of Amnesty, one of the Human Rights Defenders who the organization that I work for protects organized a semi demonstration against the government of Ethiopia. For me it was interesting to attend this demonstration since I was now able to place people behind all the paper work that I had been doing. The demonstration was taking place in front of an Ethiopian restaurant in Kampala. When I asked the people why we don’t approach the embassy they said that the government of Uganda has banned demonstration in “sensitive” parts of the city to avoid violent riots. There we were in front of a restaurant, underneath of the Ethiopian flag, holding a candle and shouting the slogans that were read by the activists. It was interesting to see people’s reaction and how many people who were around the area immediately left since they feared tear gases and violent police attacks. Even though, as the demonstration continued, the number of police officers who were observing our demonstration increased, there was no violence. At one point, however, a few people from the Ethiopian embassy approached us and were shouting that our slogans were lies and such. But than again, there was no violence.
After the demonstration, where about 50 people had showed up, we decided to go to the restaurant that we were demonstrating in front of , for supper. The lady who led the demonstration, Sebleh, was a 26 year old woman from Ethiopia who was the member of the opposition party during the presidential election in 2005 and was arrested and sent to jail for 2 years. Last year, when she left the prison on bail, she escaped to Kampala. My boss, who was one of the first people that she contacted to report her status, admitted that Sebleh immediately used the money that was provided for her to fulfill her basic to create a website for the fellow opposition member who were spending time in prison or were not able to escape Adis Abbaba.
When I met her and asked her a few questions, I could not believe how brave a 26 year old woman could be. Throughout our discussion she constantly emphasized on reconciliation and how regardless of how much the government of Ethiopia was pushing her to create rage against them, she was all for peaceful negotiation and not violence. She was telling me that she had to let go of her anger in order to beat them, and to me that was a powerful statement, especially considering all the things that they had done to her. I haven’t had the guts to ask her what really happened to her in prison, but I can only imagine what could a ruthless government do to a passionate, innocent 26 year old woman.
The time that I spent with Sebleh and every time that I have met up with her after the day of the demonstration, was worth every single difficulty that I have faced or will face during my stay in Kampala. Not only she gave me insight about the inside politics of the West in Ethiopia and countries in this region, but she taught me lessons that I probably would not have learned sitting in classrooms anywhere else in the world. Her passion for her country and her history, her respect for all man kind, her curiosity in others and many more allowed me to realize that hope still exists in this world. Being a pessimistic person that I usually am, especially regarding world politics and such, I was ashamed of my self for loosing hope in creating change. Now, there was a lady in front of me who experienced everything that I had only read in books and still managed to live everyday with hope, even though every day is a reminder for her that her life is in danger.

Today I decided to share this inspiring story with those of you who live in the North and might come across days where you might think that it is all a waste. Even though it might be, lets not think about that and try to see the positive. If not for you, than for people like Sebleh who sacrifice their lives for change. I know to most of you Sebleh is only a name that you read and you might not be able to see the person that she is behind this name that I keep mentioning, but try to put your self in her shoe for 1 second and you will find the hope in you to continue.
Last time I spoke to Sebleh she told me that UNHCR has informed her that Kampala is no longer a safe place for her to stay due to Ethiopian government’s affiliation with Uganda, therefore they are relocating her. She wasn’t sure where she was relocated to, and if she finds out, she has to keep it a secret to everyone around her. However, since I am working on her file I am entitled to know the location which makes me feel specialJ.

Anyways, I hope I did not bore you by preaching so much. It is just that at times I find my self not having enough hope to do well, and I thought that those of you who might find your selves in similar situations might appreciate this story.

All the best.

Entebbe Airport

I believe the first few days of any trip is usually the days that you can remember for the rest of your life. Even though I had prepared my self for this exceptional journey, the night before my flight to Kampala, i must admit that I had some sort of panic-attack. There i was being a few hours away from leaving for a place that was very far from what i was familiar with. My lack of knowledge about the culture and the people generated a different form of fear in me. When I stepped into the plane, i was carefully observing the people who were travelling to Kampala with me. It was very interesting how almost 50% of the passengers looked pretty young and seemed to have been travelling with a group of people from a foreign countryfor a specific purpose. This observation calmed me down a bit becasue i realized that i was not alone. When we landed in Entebbe, which is a small town right outside of Kampala where the international airport was located in, and saw how green it was i was a bit relived. Not that i was expecting to go to a desert, but at that time i was able to identify with the nature and that was very suiting. Waiting for my suitcase was very nerve racking. I found my self being veeery nervous and out casted. I thought that everyone was looking at me and noticing the fact that i was new in town. After a few minutes i began to look around myself and realized that no one was paying attention to me which was a surprise and relief for me.

My host family was suppose to send a taxi driver to pick me up and i was nervous that i wasn't able to find the driver. When i walked into the waiting area and saw my name on a board being held by a very friendly looking man, i was ready to give him a hug for not keeping me waiting for him. When i introduced my self to him and shook his hand, i realized that he was not so comfortable to speak English to me. Oh well...i guess i was able to keep my questions for the host family and not bombard him with my curiosity.

I guess the scariest thing for someone in a new city is to get lost. However, not if you are so jet lagged that you can hardly keep your eyes open. After a good hour or soon my way to my new
"home", i had realized that the driver had lost where he was going and since i really couldn't do anything about it, i decided to sleep instead. By the time i got home my host family was loosing her mind by being so worried. It was then that i had realized how dangerous it was for me to get lost with the cab driver in a new city. Oh well, it was pointless for me to worry about it since i was already in my room at that moment.

It is interesting how many people travelling to a developing countries from the West tend to expect the worst possible situation from that particular country and by the time they arrive they realize that it isn't so bad. With me it was the opposite. Before my trip i was aware of the misunderstanding that many people have about a developing country, so i tried to avoid it as much as i could. I thought of my fear as something that is exaggerated therefore i was preparing to face something better than what i had expected. However, it seemed like i had fooled my self a bit too much. I must admit that i defiantly felt the impact of the poverty and the poor infrastructure that exists here in Kampala and was rather disturbed when i saw the wondering kids on the streets beginning for food.
I guess at the end of the day, you cannot fully prepare your self for what is awaiting you in a new country. Even though i thought that i knew where i was headed, i was faced with many surprises. So far its been 3 days and I'm starting to enjoy the differences and take advantage of opportunities.