Hoes!
Trip Start
Jun 22, 2008
1
20
36
Trip End
Jul 31, 2008
Gulu,
Uganda
Saturday, July 12, 2008
(although they are definitely fun), but rather the ones used to plant potatoes.
I got to use one early today with James.
James picked me up at 8:00 a.m. sharp and took me to his
plot of land. I was greeted by 2 of his 5 kids outside their little hut. Their
faces were both covered in snot. This is not the kind of snot you can suck back
into your nose. Oh no! This is the snot that not even Bounty could soak up.
Therefore when greeting each of them I kept my distance
50 Cent and Eminem
. His wife was dressedin traditional African attire. She sported a jerry can on her head and had the
curves of an hourglass. Greeting me in Lwo she welcomed me to her home.
James and I made "some few" (Lwo English) small talk
before beginning our gardening. Well, I don't know if you could call it
gardening since all we were doing was preparing the land for planting. At first
I had the bad hoe. There is nothing worse than a bad hoe. They don't function
properly and end up causing deep dissatisfaction. You finish your work worse
off than when you started. A good hoe on the other hand works consistently and
hard. They are quick and efficient. After only 5 minutes with the bad hoe,
James insisted I take the good one
Big Horned Cattle
. I had no objections. Our task was to softenup the land for the potato planting James would do later.
The children were fascinated by our work. It was quite a
spectacle I'm sure. A Mzungu digging frantically alongside their father. I got
a kick out of the kids. They were so intrigued. I quickly snapped into third
grade teacher mode thinking: How could I entertain them? Speaking in English
would not work as they only spoke Lwo. Trying a lesson would prove unsuccessful
as there were no materials nearby. I thought and thought and finally came up
with the answer. I would entertain them in the universal language/ humor of
"MAOY" - "Making an ass out of yourself." They loved it! I imitated every
animal in the jungle
Death defying!
. Then I mocked a conversation between two of theseanimals. Soon I was on all fours as the "Spooky Muzungu who escaped from the zoo."
I don't know what I got a greater kick out of: imitating jungle animals or
watching the kid's reactions.
I love this culture! There were no video games, tv's,
walkmans or ipods! Kids instead spent their Saturdays using their imaginations.
They were so easily engaged. They climbed trees, made fake soccer balls, and
played tag to pass time. I want an Acholi child! And you don't need some fancy
infomercial and the perfect camera angle to make them cute. They are all born
that way!
After an hour of digging, James showed me the boundaries
of his land
Girls!
. We traveled through grass fields, tall plants and spotty trailsbefore reaching the "Big Tree." This large Palm tree marked the Southern end of
his land. Here he explained the disruption the LRA caused to the natural order
of things. Among these were the railways, water pipes, and vegetation.
Villagers had to work even harder now to gain access to these things. He went
on to explain how his father was caught in the crossfire of an LRA raid.
Unfortunately he was shot and killed. If I lost my father in such senseless
violence I would probably be angry and bitter. James on the other hand was
content and peaceful. He channeled his anger into positive avenues. Teaching
future generations to live peacefully became his ambition. I was amazed that James
could have such perspective. I was even further flabbergasted when he said that
he would invite "Joseph Crony" (the head of the LRA) to live in his village
Good pic?
. Hehas forgiven Crony without Crony's apology. This was truly inspiring to me.
Perhaps I will have an easier time forgiving people in the future.
As we walked back to the hut I was overwhelmed by the
beauty of my surroundings. The people's attitudes reflected this truism. They
were equally as beautiful. After my nostalgic musing I found a seat in Jame's
hut. It was so cute. There were pictures of him receiving his degree posted on
every wall. He was so proud. And with good reason! He had accomplished
something that VERY few northern Ugandans ever achieve. His wife soon arrived
with our breakfast. It included hard boiled eggs, bread and hot tea. The way
James interacted with his family was beautiful
My guide
. He treated his wife andchildren with equal respect. I was even more impressed when he explained that
he was saving money to put his wife through University. Once finished, she
would then run a small business on the family's land and use the extra income
for the children's school fees. Amazing! Such altruism is truly admirable.
After breakfast I entertained the kids with juggling,
strange noises and math problems (traced into the sand). They were an
enthusiastic audience. Finally it was time to leave. I said good bye to
everyone, hopped on James' boda and headed home. At Christ the King I changed
my clothes and departed for the IC house. At 1 pm we were scheduled to leave
for Fort Patico. I arrived at 12:30 and macked on some fresh pineapple.
Our Mutatu's pulled up at 1 pm to take us to the Fort. Let
me tell you a little bit about a Mutatu ride
Peace and serenity
. It is anything but pleasant. Youcould be up for two days straight and still not get one minute of shut eye in
the Mutatu. That's because after every 10 seconds the van hits a pothole and
shoots you straight up into the roof (especially if you are 6 feet tall).
Personally, I don't know how any vehicle can make it more than 5 miles with
this kind of wear and tear! Somehow we made it though to Fort Patico at around
2:30 p.m.
The site was awesome. A foreground of mammoth sized
boulders gave way to a background of bright blue skies and distant mountain
peaks. No wonder Samuel Baker chose this spot to help end the slave trade. A
brief history of the area: Arab traders
used this area as a supply post for the Slave trade they carried to the
Mediterranean coast
Tupac
. The site was well protected as the merging of bouldersformed natural enclaves to provide protection from both the sun and potential
liberators.
We parked the vehicles under this "Sausage Tree"
approximately 100 yards away. These giant "sausages" dangled from the branches
of the tree about 12 feet off the ground. We were DYING to cut one down.
However, we somehow had to figure out how to reach up that high. John at 6 feet
11 inches could not reach up that high, and me with my leaping abilities could
only touch the tip. After some thought I came up with a solution: I could stand
on John's shoulders and pull one down. John took me to a nearby rock where I
first sat, straddling his neck. After moving me directly under the sausage tree
I made my way to a standing position on his shoulders. Once upright, I reached
out for the giant sausage. I had it! One problem though, it wasn't coming off!
I pulled harder with no success. It was unavoidable; I had to make a leap for
it. Leaping through the air I grasped onto the sausage as it yanked from its
branch, sending me in a violent fall towards the hard ground. There was one enormous
rock within a mile radius of Fort Patico and it happened to be RIGHT UNDERNEATH
ME! Upon hitting the ground my elbow crashed into the rock. OUCH!!! I looked
like a total buffoon. Fortunately I have a video of this accident so you can
all watch it in real time. J
Following my incident we took a tour of Fort Patico. The
history lesson presented by our guide was very one sided. Samuel Baker (the
British "liberator") was viewed as the hero of the slave trade, while the Arab
slave traders were naturally the villains. Don't get me wrong, what the Arabs
subjugated the Africans to was horrific and inhumane; however, it was nothing
the British didn't do less than a century before. Pedagogy of the Oppressed
outlines it perfectly when it insists: "The oppressed will soon become the
oppressor." Upon inquiring if there were opposing viewpoints to the history of
Fort Patico, the tour guides responded emphatically that this "was the only
viewpoint." I guess this answer would have to suffice. I was not about to
engage them in this discussion as the clear bias lied in the fact that they may
be ancestors of the traded slaves.
Upon finishing the tour we put on our hiking clothes and
made our way to a nearby mountain peak. The views from the top were incredible!
We looked over all of northern Uganda and parts of Sudan. Climbing down the
mountain proved to be a greater challenge than hiking up. Carving our way
through tall grass the slopes were precipitous and slippery. Everyone fell at
least once either scuffing up their knees or bruising their ass.
When we returned to camp we enjoyed fresh grilled
chicken, vegetables and Chipote along with some cold, crisp Nile beer. There
was also a soccer game nearby, providing us with great entertainment. I had a
discussion with one of the Mutatu drivers regarding his goals and ambitions. He
explained the difficulty of finding work in Gulu. Kampala on the other hand had
a more "well developed" economy with numerous jobs. He told me that he had put
in an application with the local government, hoping to be employed in this
sector as well.
The soccer game finished shortly thereafter with both teams
taking down the makeshift goals. I couldn't resist showing off some of my
American skills. J I
asked the kids if I could borrow for the ball. They threw the ball over and I
started my juggling. Ok, so even though these kids know every futbol trick under
the sun, they are always impressed with the trick I do where I throw one of my
feet over the ball, while the bottom foot bounces it in the air. They tried
endlessly to repeat this trick to no avail. However I PROMISE you they will
know this trick and perfect it BETTER than me tomorrow. That's how talented
these kids are.
We soon loaded the vans, said good bye to the Acholi
children and headed back to the IC house. When we arrived everyone was plagued
with indecision. There were two choices: Go to town to drink or go to the
Acholi Inn for swimming. Most of us lacked the clothes for either. Hence the
dilemma. After learning that I would not be allowed to swim in my underwear I
opted for the first choice. We assembled a small crew and began the walk into town.
I was already regretting this decision. I was both tired and sick of walking.
We arrived to "Da Pub" at around 9:30 p.m. There wasn't
much going on here other than a few people drinking around tables. We soon
mirrored this activity a couple tables down. After falling asleep on two
different occasions I decided this was not a night to "rally." Sarah and I
finished our last Niles, said our good- byes and caught a boda back to Christ
the King. We both crashed shortly thereafter and looked forward to a deep,
restful sleep.
