A Day at Camp

Sunday, March 17, 2007

My work in the USA has been with resettled refugees from countries torn apart by civil war, protracted ethnic violence, and civil society breakdown from outside influences. I’ve met Somali women whose villages have burned, their husbands shot, and families destroyed. I have taught Afghan girls whose mother was murdered in front of them because she was spreading the value of education as a teacher and Kurdish who’ve been brutalized by their neighbors for decades. But it has always been the Sudanese men, women, and children whose vivacity has intrigued me, enlightened me, and, sometimes, scared me.

I wanted to come to Uganda to work with displaced Sudanese refugees, but that hasn’t exactly panned out, as my development work is with Ugandan nationals, who are rebuilding their society after a multitude of atrocities displaced them from their lands and livelihoods in the mid 80s following Amin and Obote and in the 90s from internal uprisings of the West Nile Bank Front, the UNRF, and neighboring LRA.

This weekend marked my introduction to field work with refugees in Uganda – I was invited, and included as a special guest, in a graduation celebration and ceremony at Rhino Camp Refugee Settlement, in the Rhino Camp sub-county. An hour’s drive from Arua town, on a rather miserable road, Rhino Camp is far from the visions of squalor I’ve held of life “in camp.” This is largely due to the generosity of the Ugandan government in their refugee assistance policies – the 225 square meters comprising Rhino Camp and governed by UNHCR allow for the refugee populations to have land both for living and cultivating, which in turn promotes greater livelihood. Of particular interest to me was the seemingly seamless integration of the Sudanese and the Ugandan nationals who lived on the land before the introduction of the refugee populations.

Jesuit Refugee Services is one of UNHCR’s implementing partners; Sunday was the culmination of a year and a half long JRS program empowering women through economic development in the form of a tailoring course. 88 women completed the class and were able to purchase foot pedal sewing machines that they will be able to take with them when repatriation comes (in the near future!).

Some staff of another implementing partner, Right to Play, were driving from Arua town to Rhino and were ale to give me a ride – I was also able to visit some of the work they are doing. The day started with traditional breakfast – the equivalent of [Georgia] sweet tea and donut holes.


Joseph, one of the Right to Play drivers, a Lugbara from Eastern Equitoria, came to Rhino Camp years ago and still has a strong connection with people in the villages:




Photography has always carried me far, and quickly, especially with digital; the surest approach to winning a child’s heart is through a quick portrait and an even quicker display of said portrait to said child:



Right to play are teaching people how to coach teams – I was brought to one of the training classrooms and introduced to a very lovely consultant called Henry…




We returned from one village within the camp to Ocea, the village where the graduation ceremony was to take place. My JRS contact, an American pastor or boonia is Lugbara, Father Tibs, brought me to the church where he leads mass:


Children outside the church:




Painted inside:




My favorite photo from the day:


After a tour of the tailoring classroom, the multipurpose room, and the church, I was ushered to the seating area for the special guests…
My view:


Sudanese fleeing war in southern Sudan are of mixed tribal backgrounds, including Acholi, Madi, Nuer, Dinka,and others.

The ceremony, in true Ugandan fashion was full of long speeches (translated/interpreted first from English, into Lugbara, into Juba Arabic) and full of different dances, songs, and other entertainment:

Acholi Dancers


The movement of the women’s feet is incredible – video coming soon! This was particularly great as so many of the girls from my work at RFS would start to show me how to dance, but burst into fits of laughter and never finish showing me the moves :)


Happy mama dancing with sticks and leaves:


An Acholi man and spear jumped in front of my camera and nearly scared me to death – this, of course, delighted all of the audience:


Drums:


The Band:


A percussion instrument:


The ceremony continued after the Lugbara and Madi dancers and moved into my first African Drag Show! Drama is frequently used for advocacy and in this instance, entertainment! These gentlemen were depicting the classroom experience under the strict teacher, Mustafa.





With a very attentive audience:


I think I was the first white person this baby had ever seen, because soon after this photo it burst into tears:


Father Tibs led one of the countless afternoon prayers, and, as he is leaving for the states at the end of this month, he was given a proper going away gift:


Father Tibs was also part of the preparations for the day, as he helped in the slaughter of a bull for THE MEAL to end all meals…


While I’ve depicted a glorious day in Rhino Camp (more photos here) it isn’t always so lovely. A few people were quick to point out that this could very well have been the most important day in the lives of many of these women: recognition and celebration are rare when living outside your country because of persecution.

my life in the garden

Life in the Garden and surrounding hotspots…

My new house has the most fabulous garden (and animals)! I’ve been playing with my macro filters – what do you think?

Dottie:


Frangipani:





frangipani photoshop fun:


Not sure what this flower is called…but I obviously find it fantastic:





Watch out! My backyard buddy, or a tenant of the Arua Zoo:




This photo does no justice, but after the rains a strange army of black ants emerged and convoyed across the yard:


The orange lizards I keep speaking of:


My sweet neighbors who speak no English, but have a great habit of throwing plastic bags into the street, singing to the plastic bags, and plotting to collect ants:


Tiny tots in nursery school – primary 2, singing morning songs underneath the Ugandan flag:


Missionaries’ children:


The color that gets me so much attention:

one month in!

Today marks my one month anniversary with Uganda – and what an affair it has been! Granted, February is the runt of the months in terms of duration, I still can’t believe that I’ve been here this long already. Time is flying faster than the mosquitoes to my headlamp, and to my laptop screen during power-cuts (yuck!).

Some things are different with me already – a distinct flexibility and lack of constant anxiety of what I should be doing, where I should be going, etc (although some of this remains). I’ve moved from only brushing my teeth with bottled water to – gasp! – tapwater! My circle of friends, in comparison to the states, is incredibly small. It’s a strange thing to be in communication with nearly all of my “friends” in the course of the day. But hey, when you’re living in a region of 700,000 people, where 100,000 are Sudanese refuges “housed” by UNHCR, you start to see the same faces and more certainly, the same places (and by places and faces, I mean the three muzungu friendly restaurants, two western friendly grocers, same boda boda drivers, and same sweet tots walking to primary school every morning).

I’m proud of myself for mustering the guts to run away from the comforts of home. I know that many of my friends, family, and foes would never go beyond the talk. But in all honesty, it’s not such a big deal to be here. People are still people who have problems, and heartbreaks, and good days, and rainstorms. I see why people come to Africa and get infected – with a love for this place.

My new house is charming and I adore my housemate. She’s 37 and translates the bible into the indigenous languages of eastern DRC. It is fantastic to have someone challenge me with conversations of American societal class-structures and to create legitimate defenses of my American-ness and of America, which can be very hard at times and I find myself needing to do frequently.

Things here are simple, and incredibly complex at the same time. The poverty and daily struggle of the people around me can be overwhelming. I first gave my heart to Jimmy Carter when I heard him eloquently describe the growing divide between the haves and the have-nots. The disparity between my life and those around me is gut-wrenching, but I’m not yet able to give up some creature comforts. Yes, I do have hot water, hand cream, chocolate, and an i-pod (I am, however, ready to give away the 15,000 bottles of hand-sanitizer I brought and never use). That said, I wonder what I can give up, if I should give it up, and in what ways that will be of any benefit to anyone.

Happy anniversary to me and my new home:

Lazy Sunday

I really like sitting here, watching the rain. The bamboo is shaking violently and the clouds are running forward toward Congo. A few people run too, those who missed the warning of grey masses rolling in, and are desperately trying to make it home, to shelter, from this storm. I think that the rains may continue like this – I don’t know how to predict them, but I love them.

The rains:


Pernille’s garden:


The village behind the house:


The surest way to make friends with young Ugandan boys is by inviting them to play with the puppy. At first they were completely timid, as most dogs in these parts aren’t regarded in the same fashion as dogs are state-side. After letting the crazy dog play with me and chase me around the yard they warmed up to the idea:



A photo journey through the neighborhood -

Boy and kite:


These grasshoppers are the size of my extended middle finger. Their flight is so loud and apparently they are poisonous to the touch. A dead bugger - watch out!


Just outside the house is the path to the borehole/water junction, a focal point for communication, and of course, necessity. My neighbors en route:


A few more photos:

Outcomes of a day at the market, soaking in a weak bleach/water solution to kill off anything needing killing off:


Heavy traffic in Arua town:


One of the many MTN (mobile phone carrier) buildings where you can by air-time:


These metal cases are available in the market and are generally marketed to school-children, as a safe space for storing materials and important goods needing a lock.