Much of what you hear about Africa is negative—focusing on wars, poverty and disease. The positive elements are generally Western-centric and involve some person or organization who has Made A Difference. The rest involves wild, exotic animals. The mental picture that emerges leads one to believe that this is a hopeless place, a lost cause, where lions, elephants and zebras roam the streets. That it is a continent deserving our pity and desperately in need of our charity. This picture is not inaccurate, except for the wild animal part (mostly viewed only in parks or reserves these days).
There is no doubt that life is very difficult here (especially for Westerners accustomed to a more comfortable life). Individual lives are cheap and life is precarious. You cannot count on the government to keep you safe. If you get sick, you cannot rely on the hospital having the medicine you need. When you travel to a place like Uganda, the importance of a well-functioning, reliable government becomes terribly obvious. Americans may complain about how the government intrudes in our lives, how inefficient and bloated the system is—yet we have organized means of public transportation, streets free of garbage and sewage, clean drinking water, food that is safe to eat and relatively clean hospitals stocked with antibiotics and other life-saving medicines. Our system isn’t perfect, but works well enough for us to forget the myriad of ways our life is bettered by its presence. We must remain vigilant and involved to keep our government working this way—the conditions in Africa serve as a warning of unchecked political power as well.
After spending two months here in Uganda, you realize that Ugandans, especially in Kampala, do not go about their days lamenting endlessly. They go about their lives much as we do, grow up, go to school (that is for those who can pay), get married, have babies (four, on average), go out with their friends, go to church. Those in rural areas here, blessed with fertile land, subsist on what they grow and what is left over they sell in local markets. I think what I find so compelling is not the differences but what we have in common—our humanity. Around the world, everybody hates Mondays, everyone laments that kids these days don’t get it and everyone complains that the weather isn’t the same as it used to be.
Another thing that has emerged that I truly admire about African culture (that we have lost somewhere along the way) is the role of family. The concept of family goes well beyond our definition—beyond biological and to include far reaching cousins of cousins and so on. Many of our efforts fail because they are aimed at individuals, when the average working African can be supporting as many as 15 dependents (from Dead Aid by Dambisa Moyo, excellent read). A more extreme example is that of my Ugandan father, when I asked him how many children he had, he told me 42! After probing a bit further, only seven were his biological children, and thirty-five belonged to his (prolific) brother. After his brother died, he took responsibility of all the children, and supported them as his own.
It is hard to wrap up the sights, sounds and smells of two months in an exotic country; I hope posting some pictures will add some color. I am very, very excited to get home. I will miss the people here—at home and work—that welcomed me with open arms, looked out for my safety and talked about their life experiences with me.
Posted by: Kate, Kampala, Uganda
