Experiencing Gulu

A couple of weeks ago I traveled to Kampala to visit with “Honorable Betty,” a member of the Ugandan parliament over the Gulu district. Gulu is in northern Uganda, and was occupied by the infamous LRA as recently as 2005. The LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army) is basically a group of young child soldiers led (controlled) by a terrible man named Joseph Kony that has been functioning for over 20 years. Kony has maintained power by torture, murder, and terrorizing communities, and kidnapping children that are then forced to be child soldiers. The LRA has left northern Uganda but has continued their terrible work in the DR Congo.
Earlier this year I applied for and received a SID (Students for International Development) grant from my university. The grant proposal was to build energy-saving stoves in the refugee camps (they are actually IDP Camps- Internally Displaced Persons- as they are refugees in their own country) in northern Uganda. However, upon meeting with Honorable Betty, she informed us that they are currently working to destroy the IDP camps and are encouraging people to move back to their home villages. She explained how the IDP camps are destroying their culture as children who grow up in the unstable and temporary environment of the camps do not learn of their tribal history, arts and crafts, music and dance. Therefore, she told us that what the people of Gulu need is for us to build their communities rather than the IDP camps. We were able to modify our focus to work with the same population, and deliver what is really needed (rather than what we thought they needed).

We split our group of 15 up to work in 3 areas: Laroo, Paicho, and Ajulu. In Laroo we were able to partner with an existing organization called “Laroo Bedo Dano Tek” (“To be a human being is difficult”), which is a support group for people who are HIV positive. Paicho and Ajulu were definitely out in the bush- there was no public transportation to get out to there, so we got to take 30 minute motorcycle rides (“boda bodas”) out on the dusty roads every day to get there.

In each of these locations, we were able to train locals on how to build the stoves, and most often THEY taught us more effective techniques for building them. They have the skills, we are just able to share with them this particular money and time-saving application of their skills in the building of the stoves. For example, as we have built stoves in the area surrounding our home of Lugazi, we typically use clay found near bodies of water to fill the stove. However, as clay is not plentiful in the northern region where we were for this experience, the locals taught us to actually use the dirt from anthills (which are gargantuous here- often standing 7 or 8 feet off the ground). The great thing about adobe stoves is that they are quite simple to construct, cut the cost or quantity of fuel needed for cooking by as much as one-quarter, reduce cooking time by about half, help the environment, and reduce the impact of smoke inhalation that particularly effects women and children causing respiratory problems and early death.

One of the stoves we worked on in Ajulu was for a strong old woman named Margaret. Her home, along with everybody’s in her village, is about a 15 foot circular structure with mud walls, dirt floors, and a grass roof. What was particularly noticeable upon arrival was that the hard-beaten dirt floor surrounding her hut was perfectly swept clean in almost an artistic pattern, like that which would be used to plaster a wall. I didn’t know people swept dirt floors before coming to Uganda. She did not speak a lick of English, nor we a lick of Luo (the local language) so without a translator, we would just communicate through grunts and gestures and pretend we knew what she was saying when she would rattle off long speeches to us. At one point we needed to fetch more water to mix with the anthill mud. Since my feet were bare and muddy from stomping the water into the mud, and she did not have shoes either, I decided to accompany her barefoot to carry the water from the nearest pump. We passed by some schoolteachers having a meeting under a mango tree, and they all laughed at seeing a mzungu in bare feet. Half a mile away was a pump that was erected only in 2005. We each filled our jerry can with water and began the journey back. Hesitantly, but intent on following through with having the full experience of fetching water with her, I followed her lead and hoisted the container on my head for the journey back. I swear it was five times the distance of the way there. The ground seemed hotter, harder, and more rough and my balance would have been laughable to this little lady had I been in the lead. I began to think on that long walk back about how charming it was to be walking barefoot in this gorgeous, peaceful, isolated village while balancing water on my head (“balance” is used loosely here). And then I thought about how it was charming because I know I will in a couple months be able to return back to a home with instantly accessible pure water- actually from about 10 sources within my own home. And I’ll have sidewalks and 20 pairs of shoes too. For her it is not a charming thing, it is life. Interesting.

It was quite sobering to realize that every person we worked alongside with that weekend had been so recently affected by the ravages and terror of war in their very own neighborhoods. Many did not speak English enough to tell us their stories. And for those who did speak English, I stopped asking them about their families because each would turn into a sad story- I cannot think of one person who had not had a brother or mother or uncle who had been killed or captured in the war. Even talking to Job, the son of parliament member Honorable Betty, who had obviously lived a life above the median standard of living, talked about personally seeing the LRA pass by their village, seeing people killed, and mourning the loss of his own friends. Our last morning we were able to visit the headquarters for the Invisible Children organization (see http://www.invisiblechildren.com/ ). You may be familiar with the documentaries they have produced to raise awareness of the horrific acts of the LRA throughout the world. They are now engaged in a lot of community-building projects with schools and income-generating businesses to help people get back up on their feet.

While some fear still exists among the people of Gulu, every day that the LRA is not there people gain more confidence to go on with their lives, begin to build businesses, and invest in the future through education and building permanent homes and community buildings. It is fun that in a small way we were able to be a part of that.