November 23, 2009
So here I am the morning of the gorilla tracking, about 24 hours after having left Kampala, the capitol where I am living, and already I feel as if I have had enough adventure for a week-end! The gorilla tracking permit costs $500 dollars per person per day and I had seriously hesitated about going because of the costs and concern about my physical ability to track for hours in a mountainous forest. But Larry, my trusted tour guide and loyal support person, reassured me that they had arrangements for people of all physical capabilities and repeated “This is the only place in the world (aside from Rwanda) where you can be in the wild with the gorillas.” And both tour books and other tourists had come away saying it was worth it.” So, I figured “Why, not? It is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Then, of course there was the added cost of the trip itself. With Larry the cost would be an additional $300 in addition to the permit. Although this seemed a bit high, given that we were just driving to and from the forest and staying one overnight, Larry assured me it was a very, very long trip and this was a reasonable sum. My own perusal of the web indicated that this was significantly lower than any other agency was charging, so I went ahead with the plans.
As the time for going on the trip came closer, and my schedule has become really, really tight (trying to finish up the grant proposal before I go, visit Burundi, do some training relevant to the proposal, etc.) I was beginning to regret committing two whole days to a gorilla tracking which would involve at most 3 hours in the forest and probably one hour with the gorillas themselves. But I had paid my money (the permits are very limited for reasons of care for the gorillas – the rumor is that next year they are going up to $1000 each, do you believe?) so the die was cast.
Larry said we needed to leave the house at 6 am. This seemed unnecessarily early to me, but I figured it was a loose 6 am (African time) and set my clock for 6 am. We left the house at 7 am and drove and drove. The national highway, which we took part of the way had some smooth spots where we could go a maximum of 50 mph and then there were the places where there are speed bumps and you can't go more than 10 mph or you damage your vehicle. And then there are the places that are technically paved but there are so many potholes that again you are limited to around 10-15 mph. And then there are the unpaved roads! From previous expeditions, I was used to the jarring from driving on deeply rutted unpaved roads during the rainy season before the re-grading equipment goes by to smooth out the roads, but this time these deeply rutted roads with no shoulders were adjacent to precipitous drops as we crawled through the magnificent mountainside. The landscape was amazing. All around us we saw terraced land where local people were raising crops on the shockingly steep land. I could see why the many goats we passed were quite comfortable, but how did the people manage not to slip and fall, walking barefoot or with flip-flops I wondered.
Well, we arrived at the campsite at around 10 pm, having driven about 300 miles in 15 hours! What a trip! It was lovely, though, and it was also fun driving past the small villages in and around the forest where the children smile enthusiastically and wave hello, as if our driving by is a major event of the day for them.
The other adventure of the day concerned my gorilla tracking permit. Larry had given me the permit, saying “Put it in a safe place. This is your proof that you paid and can go.” So I put it in the container holding my passport, proof of yellow fever immunization (which I need to be able to re-enter non-Yellow Fever countries), and my dwindling supply of US dollars. The morning of the departure Larry said “Don't forget to bring your passport! I dutifully went and retrieved my passport but didn't think at all about the tracking permit! The reality is that Larry has been taking care of all the details of our trips – all I have had to do is bring my money, camera and clothes and he takes care of the rest. I really gave no thought to the permit.
It wasn't until we were 10 hours out of the capitol, that Larry asked “You have your permit don't you?” Oh, no! All this time – 2 wasted days of traveling and $800 for permit and tour, wasted because of a piece of paper. Would they believe that I had paid just from my saying so? The tracking is supposed to begin at 8 am and the office in Kampala where they have the records doesn't open until 9 am. And today is a Sunday, to boot. Larry got on the phone to the Uganda Wildlife Authority in Kabale, which was where we were having dinner and said “We will be there in 5 minutes.” The office was supposed to close at 5 pm and it was already 5 pm now. We got there at 5:15 and the guy was still there and quite friendly. Larry thought he might have the receipt for the permit which would indicate that I had paid, but not what date I was authorized to go on. It's a long story why the receipt was in his backpack rather than a file at the agency's office, but by some miraculous coincidence the receipt was in his backpack. Hallelujah!! And then, to make things even better, the receipt contained both the information about the date reserved for me to go tracking and the specific gorilla group I would be tracking. (There are 3 major groups and areas from which gorilla tracking takes place.) The guy at the Kabale office thought this would probably be enough proof for me to go, but the final decision would be made at the partk itself the next morning. Because of the huge amount of money involved in these permits, Larry was telling me that the employees, who are relatively well-paid by Ugandan standards, have no leeway or flexibility about following the rules. I can imagine how easy it would be for there to be a secretive market (“Hey, I will give you $100 if you let me join the group today”), so I was not completely certain that I would be able to go, until this morning, when the office person accepted the receipt and assigned me a spot on the tracking.
Then there was also the on-site arrival last night at our tenting lodge, called the Gorilla Friends Safari Lodge. I stayed in a large cabin-like tent containing 2 beds on a platform jutting out from the mountainside – absolutely beautiful! I don't feel especially steady on me feet on uneven ground so I made sure to walk carefully. A lovely young woman who brought tea and toast to my tent also left a Coleman lantern for me to use going to the bathroom. I had been warned that it would be cool in the mountains, and it was, but I was comfortable with the blankets and my warm clothes, which I used instead of my light nightgown.
It was fun to wake up to the beautiful scenery.
Note: The previous paragraphs were written the morning before the tracking began. The following was written three days later.
At 8:30 am the guide gave us the briefing for the tracking. He explained that the money we had paid for the tracking ( $125 for Larry because he is an East African national – this would be his first time gorilla tracking) would be 50% refunded if we tracked from 9:00 am to 6:00 pm without seeing a gorilla. What is he talking about?! I can't track in the forest for 9 hours!! Larry had said we would be done by noon, as had happened with the chimpanzee tracking. The guide also said that if we were not physically capable of returning on our own steam to the start point, we could always be carried out on a stretcher, paying extra for the service, of course. Now I started to get alarmed. Would I be up to this excursion? Well, I knew it all depended on where the gorillas are in the forest, and Larry said that I was signed up to track from this particular location because it was supposed to be an easier place from which to find the gorillas, so I reassured myself it would be OK. I asked the guide if I would be up to it, indicating my age and arthritic knees. He said that he has had 80-year olds go tracking with him. Of course, they were carried on a stretcher both ways. “Whew! Isn't that something? Don't you think if a person is so frail and weak that they need to be carried in a stretcher, maybe they shouldn't go tracking gorillas in a Ugandan forest?”, I judged. Little did I think... but wait, I am getting ahead of myself.
The guide also said that we should have a pack lunch with us, which we didn't because we were expecting to be done by noon. And, of course I didn't have hiking boots, because I don't own any. A Canadian hiker (my age but presumably more fit) whom I had met yesterday said they would be helpful. He had tracked for over two hours to see the gorillas but another group the same day had met their family of gorillas in 15 minutes. It turned out that Larry and I were the only ones tracking from our location so at least my slowness wouldn't be annoying to another party of trackers.
The guide asked if we wanted a porter, $15 plus tip. He said it was suggested if our pack weighed more that 8 pounds. I was pretty sure that our single pack for the two of us did not weigh that much and Larry offered to carry it. The guide also said that a porter was useful for pushing or pulling you if assistance was needed. I had difficulty visualizing that exactly and was uncertain about whether to hire one. Without strong encouragement to do so from the guide or Larry, I chose not to – at least for now. He could be hired after, if needed.
So, at 9:00 we set out on the tracking. After 15 minutes on a gravel road we started our first climb into the forest (remember these are “mountain gorillas.”) I took one look at the hill and told Albert, the guide, I think I would like a porter. I know that I am not as steady as I would like on my feet and I didn't like the idea of interfering with Larry's pleasure on the excursion by needing his continual support on the climb. Nicholas, my porter, soon joined us and I was immediately grateful for his supportive hand and arm as I climbed over roots, vines and rocks.
At 9:30 Larry asked Albert, “Isn't this the place where gorillas were seen last week?” “Yes, it is.” he said. “Where are the gorillas today?” I asked. “Well, the trackers haven't found them yet.” Hmm. The trackers are staff who go out early to where the gorillas were seen yesterday. They follow the trail and call in by radio to tell the guide where to bring the tourists. We were walking in the direction that the trackers thought they had headed. So, or course, there was no telling for sure when we would find them.
At 10:00, we passed a site where the gorillas had been seen a few days ago and were told that the gorillas had now been located by the trackers. They were still a bit away. And I was beginning to get really tired. At first it was only the uphill that was really hard – going up is always hard on my knees and my breathing. But we soon entered the forest where there was essentially no trail and I immediately saw why the forest had its name, if a little exaggerated – the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest. The overhead branches required stooping and pushing. The vines were so deep and tangled on the ground that my feet were continually getting stuck and needed extricating manually by myself or Nicholas. I fell so many times that I lost count. And this was with Nicholas' physical support.
Then we began this steep, long descent into the valley where the gorillas had been spotted. It truly seemed endless. Several times I became so discouraged I just thought - “Leave me here and pick me up when you are done. I just don't care about the gorillas anymore.” But Albert gently nudged me on. At several points he was supporting me on one side and Nicholas on the other. I was getting a blister on my foot, my shins were taking a bit of a beating from the falls, and there were some twists of the angle and bangs on the knees which reminded me of my vulnerability. And the deep piles of decaying leaves on the steep slopes made it impossible for me to hold a spot with my feet. It didn't seem like it would take a lot to completely disable me. The only saving grace was that miraculously enough it wasn't raining, even though we were in a tropical rain forest. Allelulia! It seems like there would have been no hope for my spending any time on my feet if the ground and leaves had been wet. Even Larry was falling a number of time.
“How much longer will it be before we get there?”, I asked. “It depends on how fast we move.” Logical enough. “And at our current rate?” “Maybe half an hour.” And then Larry translated some of the radio talk between the guide and the trackers for me. “The gorillas are on the move.” he said. “Tell them to wait for us. We are coming to visit.” “This is their home. We can't tie them on a rope.” Albert explained. “Why not?” I whined to myself.
Around 11:00 we reached the depths of the valley. “How will I ever get back up?” I wondered. “I just don't think I can make it.” It was so very hard coming down. I couldn't imagine going back up on my own steam. And I started to inquire about the stretcher alternative. If I wanted it, it would cost $200 and they would send 5 men plus a stretcher. How absolutely humiliating and embarrassing! What will people think? If I truly sprained an ankle or broke a leg, then it would be a necessity. But shear exhaustion – demoralization – is that sufficient reason to get a stretcher? It just seemed so colonial to me. White woman carried on the backs of 5 African natives. Yuk! Not the self-reliant, independent, resourceful image of myself that I like to connect to. What will my blog readers think?Maybe I could pretend that I had sprained my ankle, then no one would blame me for being carried out.
I wasn't even sure that I had $200 in cash, and of course there is no VISA usage. The nearest ATM machine was 3 hours away by mountainous roads. I pondered it for a while as we entered the swamp at the bottom of the valley. My shoes and pants were getting soaked.
At 11:30 we finally found them! Fantastic – now I didn't have to track any further was all I could think in the moment! And I tried to take in the joy of being within 10 feet of some of those famous mountain gorillas. We met three of the males; one dozing and the other two doing serious eating. They watched us and continued eating. It actually was kind of neat to be with them in their own environment and to try to imagine what their lives were like. They eat 50 pounds of leaves a day and prefer many of the leaves that grow high up, so they were quite busy pulling down branches and things to get to the tasty ones.
We had been told that if a gorilla approaches us we should not run but stay were we are, looking them in the face without staring. A guide would come between us and the gorilla to protect us. It sounded simple enough as I was sitting and watching. Until this 300 pound male quickly came to me. I grabbed the leg of the nearby guide and closed my eyes. I heard a tussle, felt a push and opened my eyes. Apparently, the gorilla had tried to push the guide out of the way to touch me. We had been told that Obia, the young male, was quite curious and perhaps because I was the only female or the only white person present I had caught his interest. The staff laughed. They clearly enjoyed this family whom they visited daily and enjoyed their relationship with them. The guide had resisted being pushed out of the way and then another guide distracted Obia away from us. What excitement!
As with the chimpanzees, our permit entitled us to 60 minutes with the gorillas, which the guide timed precisely.
Now was my decision time regarding the manner of my exit. I knew we were returning by a different route than we had arrived, but there was no way to avoid climbing to the altitude from which we had started. I told Larry I wanted to go with the stretcher. I just couldn't bear the thought of the exertion and pain that would be necessary for my to climb on my own and was grateful that I had the support of the wildlife staff as well as the personal resources to have a choice for some ease in the day.
Larry suggested that he could help me negotiate the price. Albert and I agreed that I would walk part of the way and I would be carried for a large chunk of the ascent for $125, which was good because I think I had that amount of money.
It turned out that the ascent was along a road-like path – no decaying leaves, overhanging branches or tripping vines. But it was long and steep and quite a challenge even for 35-year old Larry. For me, it was a little scary at times when I looked down and saw the angle of the ascent, but the porters were amiable and steady and it was not bad at all. Could I have made it if I had had to? Probably – but it would have taken several hours and a lot of determination. As it was, we were going to arrive back in Kampala at around 3:00 am (driving 12 hours on hard roads), just a few hours before I needed to get up for the plane right to Burundi and I did appreciate their support very, very much.
Was it worth $940 (including tracking permit, porter, stretcher, and tour expenses) to spend 60 minutes with the mountain gorillas in their own habitat? Certainly, the trip was memorable, at least as much for the emotional upheaval I experienced in the tracking as for the gorillas. Three days later I now have aches in my arms and shoulders from pulling and lifting myself as well as some in my legs, and an annoying thistle under the skin of my pinky. But I am doing fine and I feel so blessed in so many ways. I do have my health and access to resources and choices to protect my health, well-being and comfort that many do not have. At least my expenditure is supporting gorilla and ecosystem conservation (it really is – the Uganda Wildlife Association takes their responsibility quite seriously) as well as contributing to the local economy. What an adventure!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
The Anti-Homosexuality Bill: A Public Programme at the University
November 25, 2009
This forum was held almost a week ago and it has taken some time and reflection before I have felt ready to write about it. FYI - just having a discussion of these matters at the university is a controversial issue in itself; many feel it is not a suitable topic for the public to talk about.
I had originally planned to speak up during the open mike part of this event, as the mother of a gay man whom I love and want to be safe, because this voice – the voice of loving family members – is just not heard in Africa. However, four people whose opinion I value counseled me against it for different reasons. The professor with whom I am working was concerned that the publicity I would attract could adversely affect him, the university, myself and the project we are working on. A friend of mine from Kenya was concerned for my physical safety. The lesbian activist in Uganda whom I have become friendly with, Val, said that there were other ways that I could support the movement less visibly and she did not want to see my project (bringing Nonviolent Communication and Restorative Circles for conflict resolution to Uganda) hurt. And my Nonviolent Communication mentor, Miki advised me against speaking out for reasons that I am still working on fully taking in. As best I understand it, she felt that it was not my role as a guest of the country, the university and the professor to be telling Ugandans how they should live - a perpetuation of Western colonialism. She also felt that what I have most to offer is to truly empathize with and understand all perspectives in the matter and help Ugandans identify the values that are most important to them in deciding how they want their lives and their country to be. As such, taking a stance on an internal political issue would both be unproductive (and possibly counter-productive, supporting the idea that homosexuality is a Western thing being imposed on Uganda) and undermine the essence of the peace-building process I am trying to support in the country.
So, with much ambivalence, I decided not to speak up, but to attend and listen. Then Val told me that she really would like to hear me speak up and I was confused again, but noticed that I trusted more my desire not to speak up at this time than my desire to do so. If it weren't for the project, I think I would have, but the project and the desire to respect my host were pretty important to me.
There were two speakers in favor of the anti-homosexuality bill, including the bill's originator, and two opposed. The two in favor spoke first. There were both effective speakers in that they spoke confidently and somewhat persuasively if you were a listener sharing their assumptions about the inherent undesirability of homosexuality and didn't have much information about the weaknesses in facts and research behind what they were saying. I was somewhat dismayed that at this packed hall in the Law School of the leading university of Uganda, primarily occupied by college students, there was huge emotional support and yelling in favor of their rhetorical questions and assertions. What might one expect from a less educated audience? It was a very distressing hour for me.
Examples of what they shared: A “scientific” graph showing an inverted-U function of how civilizations, all civilizations, rise and fall. The point at which they start falling is when ethics and sexual morals decline. And this is what is happening now with the explosion of the gay agenda. We have to contain homosexuality because of how it will cause our civilization to decline – “a proven fact.” There were also quotes and references to gay publications which spoke of the goal of making homosexuality just as acceptable as heterosexuality and the promotion acceptance of gays using deception and manipulation, if needed, to accomplish this goal. And then, of course, the requisite pictures of gay pride parades in the United States to show were Uganda is heading. The proposer of the bill ended with a paragraph written by a school boy describing how his cousin had taught him homosexual ways and now he is teaching them to other boys – an anecdote that has nothing to do with the content of the bill because it involves children and sexual interactions between adults and children already are illegal, regardless of gender.
The first speaker in the opposition was a well-meaning elderly fellow (a retired Army officer of some status) who was primarily working against AIDS but had been drafted to speak against the bill. In my judgment, he was quite ineffective in making any strong points against the bill.
The last speaker was Sylvia Tamale, a law professor and Director of the Human Rights Centre at the university. She was well-organized, non-attacking, clear and extremely effective. She analyzed the bill from a legal perspective and argued it was not needed. Of the 18 provisions in the bill 12 are already part of the law and several of the others are both against the Ugandan constitution and would lead to all sorts of serious problems – e.g. withdrawing from all international treaties and agreements immediately that are inconsistent with the bill would mean breaking treaties already agreed to – a major international problem which would affect Uganda's credibility on the world scene. She also raised the question of why was this bill being proposed now. Homosexuals have always been with us, are not doing anything different now, and are an easy target for rallying people, just as various other groups (e.g. minorities and immigrants) often are. Homosexuals are not the cause of the severe poverty and hunger in the country, the child sacrifice (yes, that is going on), the domestic violence, and the inadequate health care in the country. Is this a way of bolstering a weak political position, she asked? She also spoke of the negative effects of asking all sorts of people (parents, physicians, teachers, nurses, etc.) to spy on and report each other for their sexual behavior as well as the ability to destroy a person's reputation by a false accusation. She was quite excellent, scholarly and personable.
When the program was opened up to the audience I was only comfortable staying for a few speakers. It was clear that the audience was pretty emotionally aroused and I just didn't want to hear people arguing without listening to each other, so I left.
It wasn't until a week later when I was talking with my son about the forum that I was finally able to feel a bit more at peace with what I had heard. I could tell there was a lot of fear and mistrust associated with homosexuality, but I couldn't figure out why. I also got that many people have a lot of anger and pain associated with being colonized by the West and being looked down upon and dictated to. Allegations were made a number of times about the West paying Ugandans to be homosexuals. I guess they might be referring to international NGOs which support gay groups in Uganda and the supporters of the legislation couldn't imagine any other reason a person would choose to engage in homosexual activity.
I understand that no one wants to be coerced into a lifestyle which is not what they want just because someone bigger and more powerful is telling them to be a certain way, that is, to be accepting of homosexuality. And the changes in families, the effects of education for women on domestic relationships, and the westernization of so many cultural patterns must be pretty upsetting to many. So, taking a stand against homosexuals, whom virtually nobody wants to defend, is a nice easy target for unifying people and taking a stand against cultural changes as a whole. It was interesting to me that one woman questioned Sylvia Tamale's assertion that it would not be desirable to have parents spy on their children's sexual behavior and report it by saying that people in the family are now encouraged to spy on each other with respect to domestic violence and report that In essence, she was saying that domestic violence should be a private family matter. I can understand that it can be scary to see upended the whole picture of how you have always experienced families should be and are together.
This forum was held almost a week ago and it has taken some time and reflection before I have felt ready to write about it. FYI - just having a discussion of these matters at the university is a controversial issue in itself; many feel it is not a suitable topic for the public to talk about.
I had originally planned to speak up during the open mike part of this event, as the mother of a gay man whom I love and want to be safe, because this voice – the voice of loving family members – is just not heard in Africa. However, four people whose opinion I value counseled me against it for different reasons. The professor with whom I am working was concerned that the publicity I would attract could adversely affect him, the university, myself and the project we are working on. A friend of mine from Kenya was concerned for my physical safety. The lesbian activist in Uganda whom I have become friendly with, Val, said that there were other ways that I could support the movement less visibly and she did not want to see my project (bringing Nonviolent Communication and Restorative Circles for conflict resolution to Uganda) hurt. And my Nonviolent Communication mentor, Miki advised me against speaking out for reasons that I am still working on fully taking in. As best I understand it, she felt that it was not my role as a guest of the country, the university and the professor to be telling Ugandans how they should live - a perpetuation of Western colonialism. She also felt that what I have most to offer is to truly empathize with and understand all perspectives in the matter and help Ugandans identify the values that are most important to them in deciding how they want their lives and their country to be. As such, taking a stance on an internal political issue would both be unproductive (and possibly counter-productive, supporting the idea that homosexuality is a Western thing being imposed on Uganda) and undermine the essence of the peace-building process I am trying to support in the country.
So, with much ambivalence, I decided not to speak up, but to attend and listen. Then Val told me that she really would like to hear me speak up and I was confused again, but noticed that I trusted more my desire not to speak up at this time than my desire to do so. If it weren't for the project, I think I would have, but the project and the desire to respect my host were pretty important to me.
There were two speakers in favor of the anti-homosexuality bill, including the bill's originator, and two opposed. The two in favor spoke first. There were both effective speakers in that they spoke confidently and somewhat persuasively if you were a listener sharing their assumptions about the inherent undesirability of homosexuality and didn't have much information about the weaknesses in facts and research behind what they were saying. I was somewhat dismayed that at this packed hall in the Law School of the leading university of Uganda, primarily occupied by college students, there was huge emotional support and yelling in favor of their rhetorical questions and assertions. What might one expect from a less educated audience? It was a very distressing hour for me.
Examples of what they shared: A “scientific” graph showing an inverted-U function of how civilizations, all civilizations, rise and fall. The point at which they start falling is when ethics and sexual morals decline. And this is what is happening now with the explosion of the gay agenda. We have to contain homosexuality because of how it will cause our civilization to decline – “a proven fact.” There were also quotes and references to gay publications which spoke of the goal of making homosexuality just as acceptable as heterosexuality and the promotion acceptance of gays using deception and manipulation, if needed, to accomplish this goal. And then, of course, the requisite pictures of gay pride parades in the United States to show were Uganda is heading. The proposer of the bill ended with a paragraph written by a school boy describing how his cousin had taught him homosexual ways and now he is teaching them to other boys – an anecdote that has nothing to do with the content of the bill because it involves children and sexual interactions between adults and children already are illegal, regardless of gender.
The first speaker in the opposition was a well-meaning elderly fellow (a retired Army officer of some status) who was primarily working against AIDS but had been drafted to speak against the bill. In my judgment, he was quite ineffective in making any strong points against the bill.
The last speaker was Sylvia Tamale, a law professor and Director of the Human Rights Centre at the university. She was well-organized, non-attacking, clear and extremely effective. She analyzed the bill from a legal perspective and argued it was not needed. Of the 18 provisions in the bill 12 are already part of the law and several of the others are both against the Ugandan constitution and would lead to all sorts of serious problems – e.g. withdrawing from all international treaties and agreements immediately that are inconsistent with the bill would mean breaking treaties already agreed to – a major international problem which would affect Uganda's credibility on the world scene. She also raised the question of why was this bill being proposed now. Homosexuals have always been with us, are not doing anything different now, and are an easy target for rallying people, just as various other groups (e.g. minorities and immigrants) often are. Homosexuals are not the cause of the severe poverty and hunger in the country, the child sacrifice (yes, that is going on), the domestic violence, and the inadequate health care in the country. Is this a way of bolstering a weak political position, she asked? She also spoke of the negative effects of asking all sorts of people (parents, physicians, teachers, nurses, etc.) to spy on and report each other for their sexual behavior as well as the ability to destroy a person's reputation by a false accusation. She was quite excellent, scholarly and personable.
When the program was opened up to the audience I was only comfortable staying for a few speakers. It was clear that the audience was pretty emotionally aroused and I just didn't want to hear people arguing without listening to each other, so I left.
It wasn't until a week later when I was talking with my son about the forum that I was finally able to feel a bit more at peace with what I had heard. I could tell there was a lot of fear and mistrust associated with homosexuality, but I couldn't figure out why. I also got that many people have a lot of anger and pain associated with being colonized by the West and being looked down upon and dictated to. Allegations were made a number of times about the West paying Ugandans to be homosexuals. I guess they might be referring to international NGOs which support gay groups in Uganda and the supporters of the legislation couldn't imagine any other reason a person would choose to engage in homosexual activity.
I understand that no one wants to be coerced into a lifestyle which is not what they want just because someone bigger and more powerful is telling them to be a certain way, that is, to be accepting of homosexuality. And the changes in families, the effects of education for women on domestic relationships, and the westernization of so many cultural patterns must be pretty upsetting to many. So, taking a stand against homosexuals, whom virtually nobody wants to defend, is a nice easy target for unifying people and taking a stand against cultural changes as a whole. It was interesting to me that one woman questioned Sylvia Tamale's assertion that it would not be desirable to have parents spy on their children's sexual behavior and report it by saying that people in the family are now encouraged to spy on each other with respect to domestic violence and report that In essence, she was saying that domestic violence should be a private family matter. I can understand that it can be scary to see upended the whole picture of how you have always experienced families should be and are together.
Visiting the Only Mental Health Facility in Burundi
November 26, 2009
I am visiting a fellow trainer of Nonviolent Communication this week in Burundi, another country in East Africa. Burundi, a small country surrounded by Rwanda, Tanzania and Democratic Republic of Congo, is about the size of Massachussetts and has a similar population of 8 million, about a million more than Massachussetts.. Like Rwanda, there is a long painful history of conflict between the Hutu and Tutsi populations of Burundi during the 20th century a result, in part, of differences between the groups fostered by the Belgians and Germans starting in the late 1900s as a way to encourage submission to their authority. Over half a million have died in various genocides during the past five decades, including over 50 members of the extended family of my host, Jean-Baptiste Ndirukiyo. He says there is essentially no family in Burundi untouched by genocide. It is one of the 10 poorest countries in the world with a Gross Domestic Product of $400 a year. This compares with a GDP of about $47,000 for the United States which, I was surprised to discover, puts us at about sixth highest in the world (depending on which ranking you use), behind Qatar ($86,000), Luxembourg($82,000), Norway ($54,000). Singapore ($51,000), and Brunei ($50,000).
In today's Burundi paper I read that 63% of the population is “sous-alimentation”, or underfed. I also read articles about domestic violence and about a man whose home was bombed and who may lose a leg because he had changed political parties. It seems that the long history of political and ethnic violence may be associated with violence in other ways in the culture. My first day in Burundi I went to the local phone store of the major carrier to get a Sim card for my phone. The number of people waiting to get served was larger than I have encountered in other African countries and it was also the first time that I observed people pushing their way in front of others, not respecting a queuing system. They did this so aggressively that I was extremely uncomfortable and had some feelings of hopelessness about ever getting served. Both my host and I became a bit more aggressive ourselves in order to maintain our place in the queue and I noticed that I was very unhappy about doing this, much preferring a greater sense of mutuality and order in handling such a situation.
Knowing of my interest in Psychology, this morning Jean-Baptiste took me to visit the only psychiatric facility in the country. We spoke with the Administrative Director who was very kind, taking his time to show us the facility and to answer our questions. It was also helpful that his English is quite good. Kirundi is the local language and, like Rwanda, French is the language of instruction in the schools. Given my own limited French and the less limited but still somewhat weak English of my host, communication has not been as comfortable as I would like. This reminds me of how much the ease of my trip has been supported by the greater prevalence of English in the countries I have visited. A dear friend of mine (Carolyn Keys) from Pendle Hill, the Quaker retreat center where I lived in 2008-9, spent two years living in Burundi promoting trauma healing from the genocides through the Alternatives to Violence Project . The language challenges I have encountered would stimulate such a strong feeling of isolation in me that there is no way I would want to do that.
The facility has 100 beds to serve the population of 8 million. Last year the facility also served 5,000 out-patients at the main facility in the capitol, Bujumbura and an additional 8,000 in 5 outlying provinces at satellite clinics. There are only two psychiatrists in the country, one of whom is not doing psychiatric work; one is associated with this facility which includes 2 psychologists, 3 psychological assistants and 5 doctors. The facility also serves people with physical ailments only which, the Director told me, has the desirable effect of not leading to social stigmatization for people receiving treatment at the facility because they are known as having a mental illness.
People stay for brief periods only at the facility, being re-integrated into their home communities typically within a matter of weeks. There are only two very long-term patients at the facility. The major diagnostic categories that are recorded in a recent report are schizophrenia, bipolar disorder and psychotic disorder.
I asked one of the psychologists about tools used to assess the patients and he referred to the Rorshach (ink blot test) and showed me 3 sets of puzzle pieces which appeared to be the only parts of the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale that the facility owns.(The Scale has quite a few sub-tests for meaningful interpretation.) He said that he works with documents about the patient and especially values being able to observe interactions among the patients as a way to get information about the abilities and challenges of each person. When I asked about the types of therapies used, I was told that many receive medication while on the ward, but that they are less able to get medicine when they are discharged, for reasons of cost, especially getting to and from a clinic from a distance away. The psychologist referred to their use of individual, group and family therapy. I was not able to get a clear picture of the theoretical approach that they use in their work. He said that the patients raise different topics in discussions and try to support each other by sharing their experiences and talking about their fears. Something called work therapy is frequently used and the Director hopes to add a facility for music therapy. As we walked in the wards the patients frequently approached us and started talking to me, the only white person around. I couldn't understand what they were saying to me in Kirundi (one guy did say he loved me in English) and no one seemed to be eager to give me any detailed translations. I was told that sometimes they were asking me for things or to help them.
I thought it was very interesting that even patients categorized with severe mental illnesses are essentially cared for in their home communities, just having a brief intervention in a residential facility. When I looked at the Massachusetts mental health web-site for purposes of comparison it talked about the efforts to de-institutionalize mental health treatment and have people live in their home communities. Is Burundi ahead of the United States in this regard?
One more note – even though the national university is turning out graduates with degrees in clinical psychology (I am not sure at what level) the Director was unaware of any psychologists providing private services or any other mental health care in the country.
I am visiting a fellow trainer of Nonviolent Communication this week in Burundi, another country in East Africa. Burundi, a small country surrounded by Rwanda, Tanzania and Democratic Republic of Congo, is about the size of Massachussetts and has a similar population of 8 million, about a million more than Massachussetts.. Like Rwanda, there is a long painful history of conflict between the Hutu and Tutsi populations of Burundi during the 20th century a result, in part, of differences between the groups fostered by the Belgians and Germans starting in the late 1900s as a way to encourage submission to their authority. Over half a million have died in various genocides during the past five decades, including over 50 members of the extended family of my host, Jean-Baptiste Ndirukiyo. He says there is essentially no family in Burundi untouched by genocide. It is one of the 10 poorest countries in the world with a Gross Domestic Product of $400 a year. This compares with a GDP of about $47,000 for the United States which, I was surprised to discover, puts us at about sixth highest in the world (depending on which ranking you use), behind Qatar ($86,000), Luxembourg($82,000), Norway ($54,000). Singapore ($51,000), and Brunei ($50,000).
In today's Burundi paper I read that 63% of the population is “sous-alimentation”, or underfed. I also read articles about domestic violence and about a man whose home was bombed and who may lose a leg because he had changed political parties. It seems that the long history of political and ethnic violence may be associated with violence in other ways in the culture. My first day in Burundi I went to the local phone store of the major carrier to get a Sim card for my phone. The number of people waiting to get served was larger than I have encountered in other African countries and it was also the first time that I observed people pushing their way in front of others, not respecting a queuing system. They did this so aggressively that I was extremely uncomfortable and had some feelings of hopelessness about ever getting served. Both my host and I became a bit more aggressive ourselves in order to maintain our place in the queue and I noticed that I was very unhappy about doing this, much preferring a greater sense of mutuality and order in handling such a situation.
Knowing of my interest in Psychology, this morning Jean-Baptiste took me to visit the only psychiatric facility in the country. We spoke with the Administrative Director who was very kind, taking his time to show us the facility and to answer our questions. It was also helpful that his English is quite good. Kirundi is the local language and, like Rwanda, French is the language of instruction in the schools. Given my own limited French and the less limited but still somewhat weak English of my host, communication has not been as comfortable as I would like. This reminds me of how much the ease of my trip has been supported by the greater prevalence of English in the countries I have visited. A dear friend of mine (Carolyn Keys) from Pendle Hill, the Quaker retreat center where I lived in 2008-9, spent two years living in Burundi promoting trauma healing from the genocides through the Alternatives to Violence Project . The language challenges I have encountered would stimulate such a strong feeling of isolation in me that there is no way I would want to do that.
The facility has 100 beds to serve the population of 8 million. Last year the facility also served 5,000 out-patients at the main facility in the capitol, Bujumbura and an additional 8,000 in 5 outlying provinces at satellite clinics. There are only two psychiatrists in the country, one of whom is not doing psychiatric work; one is associated with this facility which includes 2 psychologists, 3 psychological assistants and 5 doctors. The facility also serves people with physical ailments only which, the Director told me, has the desirable effect of not leading to social stigmatization for people receiving treatment at the facility because they are known as having a mental illness.
People stay for brief periods only at the facility, being re-integrated into their home communities typically within a matter of weeks. There are only two very long-term patients at the facility. The major diagnostic categories that are recorded in a recent report are schizophrenia, bipolar disorder and psychotic disorder.
I asked one of the psychologists about tools used to assess the patients and he referred to the Rorshach (ink blot test) and showed me 3 sets of puzzle pieces which appeared to be the only parts of the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale that the facility owns.(The Scale has quite a few sub-tests for meaningful interpretation.) He said that he works with documents about the patient and especially values being able to observe interactions among the patients as a way to get information about the abilities and challenges of each person. When I asked about the types of therapies used, I was told that many receive medication while on the ward, but that they are less able to get medicine when they are discharged, for reasons of cost, especially getting to and from a clinic from a distance away. The psychologist referred to their use of individual, group and family therapy. I was not able to get a clear picture of the theoretical approach that they use in their work. He said that the patients raise different topics in discussions and try to support each other by sharing their experiences and talking about their fears. Something called work therapy is frequently used and the Director hopes to add a facility for music therapy. As we walked in the wards the patients frequently approached us and started talking to me, the only white person around. I couldn't understand what they were saying to me in Kirundi (one guy did say he loved me in English) and no one seemed to be eager to give me any detailed translations. I was told that sometimes they were asking me for things or to help them.
I thought it was very interesting that even patients categorized with severe mental illnesses are essentially cared for in their home communities, just having a brief intervention in a residential facility. When I looked at the Massachusetts mental health web-site for purposes of comparison it talked about the efforts to de-institutionalize mental health treatment and have people live in their home communities. Is Burundi ahead of the United States in this regard?
One more note – even though the national university is turning out graduates with degrees in clinical psychology (I am not sure at what level) the Director was unaware of any psychologists providing private services or any other mental health care in the country.
Friday, November 13, 2009
A Moving Conversation with a Lesbian Activist in Uganda
November 12, 2009
Today, I finally got to meet Val, the co-ordinator of the coalition of 20+ groups in Uganda fighting against the Anti-Homosexuality bill currently active in the Ugandan Parliament that I wrote about earlier. (Apparently a similar bill is being considered in Rwanda but a Westerner who lives there and seems knowledgeable said that it is probably unlikely to move forward because it would not serve the interests of the current president who wouldn't want to antagonize western interests.)
As I mentioned in a previous blog posting, this bill is more than harsh. Parents, for example, who do not report their gay children to police authorities would be subject to fines of $5,000 and prison penalties. Possession of printed materials and discussions of gay rights or homophobia would also involve criminal penalties as would saying anything that could be construed as supporting people in feeling comfortable with the non-straight identities or inclinations. And gays themselves would be subject to potential sentences of life imprisonment for living as gay people with another gay, consenting adult.
It was my perception that Val didn't see immediately how my presence in Uganda and willingness to speak in behalf of gay rights as the mother of a gay son whom I adore and want to be safe could be of a support to the movement. She said that Ugandans already think of homosexuality as a “Western thing”, not really native to Africa and my speaking out would only confirm that impression. If I were a Uganda woman she could see that as really being helpful. But despite her knowing a large number of LGBT people in Uganda, she was not aware of any parent who would was supportive of a gay offspring, much less be willing to speak out publicly in their behalf. The potential for shame and ostracism is so huge, homosexuality is so taboo as a topic for discussion in Ugandan society (even “straight” sex is not considered OK to talk about), that the cost would be too great for a parent to speak up in this manner.
We had a wonderful conversation. Val talked about her passion for devoting her life to social change. She had previously worked as a journalist for one of the leading papers in Uganda but as she became public about her activism (doing her activism on her own time, or course) she experienced pressure to choose between working for the newspaper or being an activist. The paper was not comfortable with her visibility as a lesbian and her working for the paper. She chose the activist route. Now, she essentially works full-time for a lesbian rights organization supported by a lesbian group in the United States. She receives only expenses and no salary for her work. The supporters, for some reason, pay administrative expenses and rent but are not willing to pay salaries. So Val lives hand -to-mouth on donations from friends and whatever. She is a very curious person and eager to learn and is going to sit in on the last part of my course on Nonviolent Communication.
Val spoke of the hardships that gay people face in Uganda. Arranged marriages are still done in Uganda and many gay men and women are forced to get married to opposite gender people. They may choose to have same gender lovers on the side and that increases risks for the spread of HIV and AIDS. She said that the fear of complete rejection from family and friends keeps most gays deeply closeted and the stress of the secrecy presents great emotional challenges which are associated for many gays with problems of substance abuse. Many lesbians are also targeted and traumatized by male relatives through what is called “curative rape.” If you are guessing that this refers to the belief that a woman can be “cured” of her lesbianism by being raped by a man you are accurate in your guess.
Val and I talked about the absence of counseling services for LGBTs and the lack of knowledge of how gays can most effectively support each other emotionally. I offered to do a workshop on this topic before I leave Uganda and we have set a date and started making plans.
Val, herself, is an orphan who has been completely rejected by her family for being who she is. She wonders if she would be taking this same path of activism and visibility if she were risking the loss of the love and acceptance of her parents. It would mean a great deal to her to be accepted by her parents and for them to see how much she has accomplished in the face of extreme hardship.
I felt extremely moved by this woman and her desire to support all LGBTs in having better lives. I hope our relationship continues to grow and that I can be of some support to her as she is a source of inspiration to me.
Note: A public meeting to discuss the bill is coming up next week at the university where I am teaching and Val suggested that would be a good place for me to speak up as the loving mother of a gay son and as a person teaching at the university. I spoke with the chairman of the department who has made my teaching possible and he said that the repercussions to him could be potentially huge. He could lose a lot of influence and status and be severely reprimanded for sponsoring a teacher who would talk publicly about such things. Val indicated that last Spring the newspaper she used to work for had an American intern who reported objectively the events surrounding the bill and there was so much outcry about having this material in the newspaper that the American Embassy told the intern she should leave the country for her own well-being. I have decided, in consideration of the chairman, to identify myself as a retired teacher from Binghamton University doing volunteer work in Uganda.
Today, I finally got to meet Val, the co-ordinator of the coalition of 20+ groups in Uganda fighting against the Anti-Homosexuality bill currently active in the Ugandan Parliament that I wrote about earlier. (Apparently a similar bill is being considered in Rwanda but a Westerner who lives there and seems knowledgeable said that it is probably unlikely to move forward because it would not serve the interests of the current president who wouldn't want to antagonize western interests.)
As I mentioned in a previous blog posting, this bill is more than harsh. Parents, for example, who do not report their gay children to police authorities would be subject to fines of $5,000 and prison penalties. Possession of printed materials and discussions of gay rights or homophobia would also involve criminal penalties as would saying anything that could be construed as supporting people in feeling comfortable with the non-straight identities or inclinations. And gays themselves would be subject to potential sentences of life imprisonment for living as gay people with another gay, consenting adult.
It was my perception that Val didn't see immediately how my presence in Uganda and willingness to speak in behalf of gay rights as the mother of a gay son whom I adore and want to be safe could be of a support to the movement. She said that Ugandans already think of homosexuality as a “Western thing”, not really native to Africa and my speaking out would only confirm that impression. If I were a Uganda woman she could see that as really being helpful. But despite her knowing a large number of LGBT people in Uganda, she was not aware of any parent who would was supportive of a gay offspring, much less be willing to speak out publicly in their behalf. The potential for shame and ostracism is so huge, homosexuality is so taboo as a topic for discussion in Ugandan society (even “straight” sex is not considered OK to talk about), that the cost would be too great for a parent to speak up in this manner.
We had a wonderful conversation. Val talked about her passion for devoting her life to social change. She had previously worked as a journalist for one of the leading papers in Uganda but as she became public about her activism (doing her activism on her own time, or course) she experienced pressure to choose between working for the newspaper or being an activist. The paper was not comfortable with her visibility as a lesbian and her working for the paper. She chose the activist route. Now, she essentially works full-time for a lesbian rights organization supported by a lesbian group in the United States. She receives only expenses and no salary for her work. The supporters, for some reason, pay administrative expenses and rent but are not willing to pay salaries. So Val lives hand -to-mouth on donations from friends and whatever. She is a very curious person and eager to learn and is going to sit in on the last part of my course on Nonviolent Communication.
Val spoke of the hardships that gay people face in Uganda. Arranged marriages are still done in Uganda and many gay men and women are forced to get married to opposite gender people. They may choose to have same gender lovers on the side and that increases risks for the spread of HIV and AIDS. She said that the fear of complete rejection from family and friends keeps most gays deeply closeted and the stress of the secrecy presents great emotional challenges which are associated for many gays with problems of substance abuse. Many lesbians are also targeted and traumatized by male relatives through what is called “curative rape.” If you are guessing that this refers to the belief that a woman can be “cured” of her lesbianism by being raped by a man you are accurate in your guess.
Val and I talked about the absence of counseling services for LGBTs and the lack of knowledge of how gays can most effectively support each other emotionally. I offered to do a workshop on this topic before I leave Uganda and we have set a date and started making plans.
Val, herself, is an orphan who has been completely rejected by her family for being who she is. She wonders if she would be taking this same path of activism and visibility if she were risking the loss of the love and acceptance of her parents. It would mean a great deal to her to be accepted by her parents and for them to see how much she has accomplished in the face of extreme hardship.
I felt extremely moved by this woman and her desire to support all LGBTs in having better lives. I hope our relationship continues to grow and that I can be of some support to her as she is a source of inspiration to me.
Note: A public meeting to discuss the bill is coming up next week at the university where I am teaching and Val suggested that would be a good place for me to speak up as the loving mother of a gay son and as a person teaching at the university. I spoke with the chairman of the department who has made my teaching possible and he said that the repercussions to him could be potentially huge. He could lose a lot of influence and status and be severely reprimanded for sponsoring a teacher who would talk publicly about such things. Val indicated that last Spring the newspaper she used to work for had an American intern who reported objectively the events surrounding the bill and there was so much outcry about having this material in the newspaper that the American Embassy told the intern she should leave the country for her own well-being. I have decided, in consideration of the chairman, to identify myself as a retired teacher from Binghamton University doing volunteer work in Uganda.
These Animals are Really Wild!
November 12, 2009
Last week-end, after spending the week teaching in the small city of Jinja, I went on a 2-day tour with Larry, my trusted driver, Teach and Tour liason and organizer, and all-round supporter and assistant. I visited the largest national park in Uganda, one highly recommended by the guidebooks, the Murchison Falls National Park The view of the falls from the boat was actually a bit of a let-down; you can't really get close enough to appreciate it fully. And Larry hadn't suggested the trip to the top of the falls (and I hadn't read my guidebooks thoroughly enough to request it).where you can, apparently, really get of sense of its full majesty.
However, the wild-life that I saw on the boat ride and a driving tour through the park was spectacular, indeed. It was fun to see such a diversity of animals getting along and enjoying themselves on the land and in the river – elephants, crocodiles, hippos, birds, insects, on and on. And lots and lots of giraffes. That was my favorite part.
Originally, I wasn't going to go chimpanzee tracking at the park because it is an additional expense and I had heard that it wasn't nearly as compelling as the gorilla tracking, which I would be doing in a couple of weeks at a different park. But when I realized that we were already booked to stay the night at the lodge from which the chimpanzee tracking originates and which supports the Jane Goodall Chimpanzee Research Center, I changed my mind on the way there figuring “What the heck, I am going to be there anyway, I might as well go!” Larry, always helpful, called ahead and was able to make the arrangements and we raced along the amazingly rutted roads to get there in time for the afternoon tracking tour. (Because I hadn't originally planned to do the chimp tracking, we didn't leave Jinja as early as we would have if that had been set in the schedule from the beginning.) It wasn't clear if we would make it in time and when I spoke to the ranger I couldn't tell if they were willing to hold the departure of the tracking tour for us if we were a bit late. So, I decided to just relax on the lengthy drive. If we make it, fine. If not, so be it. Instead of stopping for lunch on the road we picked up some sticks of charcoal broiled goat meat from street vendors which was absolutely delicious. It did bother me a bit because I don't think of goats as something to eat, but it did kind of look like and taste pretty much like any other type of meat.
Well, we arrived at 2:00 pm for the afternoon departure which they told us was scheduled for 1:00 pm and it turns out we were the only guests at this 32-bed facility and the only people on the afternoon tracking trip! This is the slow season for tourists (partly because it is not July-August and partly because it is during the secondary rainy season), but this seemed pretty slow to me. The facility that we stayed at was very new and attractive, reasonably priced and solar powered. And built with the assistance of USAID money. It was nice to see my tax money going for a good purpose, but I was puzzled about why the facility was so empty when the privately owned facilities near the boat launch in the part appeared much less attractive and were very busy. Is this the effects of capitalistic enterprisingness, or something else?
Because I hadn't originally planned on going tracking, I didn't bring my rain jacket and pants. Even though my whole visit to Uganda has technically been during the rainy season, I haven't actually had a lot of problems with the rain. It seems like it rains about every other day or less in Kampala now and when it does rain it doesn't seem to last too terribly long or be extremely unpleasant. Because the temperature is generally warm you don't really get chilled even if you are caught in the rain. So, I asked the guide if he thought it would rain while we went tracking (we would be tracking for a maximum of three hours) and from my other experience I thought we might miss the rain. But he said with certainty “yes.” Since I didn't have rain gear, I decided to bring my umbrella with me for the tracking. Sure enough, after we had been walking for 10 minutes suddenly, as if on cue, it started to rain. I got out my umbrella and Larry and I used it together for about 10 minutes before we were in the denser part of the forest and it became completely useless.
The chimps live in “families” of 6-10 chimps and 10 -15 families comprise a “community.” There are several communities in the Budongo forest and they move continually through the forest, each day building a nest for cover that night. In this forest visitors have a roughly 90% chance of observing chimps; there are two people who work for the park who follow the chimps continuously and call the ranger to tell them where they are so that he can bring the guests to them. I was pleased with the effectiveness and efficiency of the system. Our guide also seemed both knowledgeable and deeply committed to his work and the well-being of the animals and the forest. There is a lot of concern that humans don't transmit diseases to the chimps (and vice versa) so were asked to turn away from the chimps if we needed to sneeze.
At first the chimps were very hard for me to see. They hang out on the top of the tall trees and their dark fur does not provide a sharp contrast with their surroundings. They are very accepting of humans watching them; they continue doing their thing (mostly eating, sometimes grooming, lots of oral communication with other chimps and, as we were lucky enough to observe for ourselves, occasionally copulating). They really did seem a lot more social than the other animals we observed, and it was easy to believe that they share 98% of their DNA with humans. I guess what stood out for me in the whole chimp tracking expedition and, to a lesser extent the other wildlife gazing, was how different it is to go to their environment to visit rather than to see them at a zoo or farm which doesn't really seem like visiting them in their home in the same way. There were no gates or fences here; just us and them co-existing in a nearby space. I was glad, after all, that I had decided to come and grateful to the people who work hard to help preserve these areas where they can safely live.
Last week-end, after spending the week teaching in the small city of Jinja, I went on a 2-day tour with Larry, my trusted driver, Teach and Tour liason and organizer, and all-round supporter and assistant. I visited the largest national park in Uganda, one highly recommended by the guidebooks, the Murchison Falls National Park The view of the falls from the boat was actually a bit of a let-down; you can't really get close enough to appreciate it fully. And Larry hadn't suggested the trip to the top of the falls (and I hadn't read my guidebooks thoroughly enough to request it).where you can, apparently, really get of sense of its full majesty.
However, the wild-life that I saw on the boat ride and a driving tour through the park was spectacular, indeed. It was fun to see such a diversity of animals getting along and enjoying themselves on the land and in the river – elephants, crocodiles, hippos, birds, insects, on and on. And lots and lots of giraffes. That was my favorite part.
Originally, I wasn't going to go chimpanzee tracking at the park because it is an additional expense and I had heard that it wasn't nearly as compelling as the gorilla tracking, which I would be doing in a couple of weeks at a different park. But when I realized that we were already booked to stay the night at the lodge from which the chimpanzee tracking originates and which supports the Jane Goodall Chimpanzee Research Center, I changed my mind on the way there figuring “What the heck, I am going to be there anyway, I might as well go!” Larry, always helpful, called ahead and was able to make the arrangements and we raced along the amazingly rutted roads to get there in time for the afternoon tracking tour. (Because I hadn't originally planned to do the chimp tracking, we didn't leave Jinja as early as we would have if that had been set in the schedule from the beginning.) It wasn't clear if we would make it in time and when I spoke to the ranger I couldn't tell if they were willing to hold the departure of the tracking tour for us if we were a bit late. So, I decided to just relax on the lengthy drive. If we make it, fine. If not, so be it. Instead of stopping for lunch on the road we picked up some sticks of charcoal broiled goat meat from street vendors which was absolutely delicious. It did bother me a bit because I don't think of goats as something to eat, but it did kind of look like and taste pretty much like any other type of meat.
Well, we arrived at 2:00 pm for the afternoon departure which they told us was scheduled for 1:00 pm and it turns out we were the only guests at this 32-bed facility and the only people on the afternoon tracking trip! This is the slow season for tourists (partly because it is not July-August and partly because it is during the secondary rainy season), but this seemed pretty slow to me. The facility that we stayed at was very new and attractive, reasonably priced and solar powered. And built with the assistance of USAID money. It was nice to see my tax money going for a good purpose, but I was puzzled about why the facility was so empty when the privately owned facilities near the boat launch in the part appeared much less attractive and were very busy. Is this the effects of capitalistic enterprisingness, or something else?
Because I hadn't originally planned on going tracking, I didn't bring my rain jacket and pants. Even though my whole visit to Uganda has technically been during the rainy season, I haven't actually had a lot of problems with the rain. It seems like it rains about every other day or less in Kampala now and when it does rain it doesn't seem to last too terribly long or be extremely unpleasant. Because the temperature is generally warm you don't really get chilled even if you are caught in the rain. So, I asked the guide if he thought it would rain while we went tracking (we would be tracking for a maximum of three hours) and from my other experience I thought we might miss the rain. But he said with certainty “yes.” Since I didn't have rain gear, I decided to bring my umbrella with me for the tracking. Sure enough, after we had been walking for 10 minutes suddenly, as if on cue, it started to rain. I got out my umbrella and Larry and I used it together for about 10 minutes before we were in the denser part of the forest and it became completely useless.
The chimps live in “families” of 6-10 chimps and 10 -15 families comprise a “community.” There are several communities in the Budongo forest and they move continually through the forest, each day building a nest for cover that night. In this forest visitors have a roughly 90% chance of observing chimps; there are two people who work for the park who follow the chimps continuously and call the ranger to tell them where they are so that he can bring the guests to them. I was pleased with the effectiveness and efficiency of the system. Our guide also seemed both knowledgeable and deeply committed to his work and the well-being of the animals and the forest. There is a lot of concern that humans don't transmit diseases to the chimps (and vice versa) so were asked to turn away from the chimps if we needed to sneeze.
At first the chimps were very hard for me to see. They hang out on the top of the tall trees and their dark fur does not provide a sharp contrast with their surroundings. They are very accepting of humans watching them; they continue doing their thing (mostly eating, sometimes grooming, lots of oral communication with other chimps and, as we were lucky enough to observe for ourselves, occasionally copulating). They really did seem a lot more social than the other animals we observed, and it was easy to believe that they share 98% of their DNA with humans. I guess what stood out for me in the whole chimp tracking expedition and, to a lesser extent the other wildlife gazing, was how different it is to go to their environment to visit rather than to see them at a zoo or farm which doesn't really seem like visiting them in their home in the same way. There were no gates or fences here; just us and them co-existing in a nearby space. I was glad, after all, that I had decided to come and grateful to the people who work hard to help preserve these areas where they can safely live.
Food, Fertility, Land and Uganda
November 12, 2009
The more that I see of the rural poverty, the life of the subsistence farmers who comprise a large chunk of the population, the disputes over access to fertile land and the large numbers of children (families of 10 children are not uncommon) that Ugandan women bear, the more distressed I have felt about trying to meet the basic needs of so many people. It was with great interest, then, that I bought the October 31st issue of The Economist which featured a cover story called “Falling fertility: How the population problem is solving itself.” This is a very well-written and engaging article which stimulated some sense of relief as well as concern in me. Some of the key points:
The replacement level of fertility is 2.1. The global average fertility rate is 2.3. The dramatically falling fertility rate (in 1950 it was 5.0) will dip below the global replacement rate for the first time in 2020.
In the 1970s only 24 countries had fertility rates of 2.1 or less, all of them rich. Now there are over 70 such countries, and in every continent, including Africa.
Between 1950 and 2000 the average fertility rate in developing countries fell by half from six to three- three fewer children in each family in just 50 years.
The Economist reports that the reason for this is that poor agrarian families find it more advantageous and less costly (per child) to have more children but that as their financial circumstances improve smaller families are more desired and make greater economic sense. Data show a strong relationship between per capita income and fertility. The spread of female education also leads to decreased fertility. Note that even if current projections hold, the world population is still expected to grow from 6 to 9 billion people before it levels off. Can our planet really support 3 billion more people and maintain ecological health? I am certainly not an expert on these matters. I just wanted to share them with you because I found it very interesting to read about. I must admit there is a part of me that gets so overwhelmed when I start thinking about environmental issues and population (issues such as de-forestaion, greenhouse gases, pollution, oil) that I think, “the next generation will just have to handle this without me” and I go back to concentrating on making a difference in my own small ways in spheres that I especially care about.
The more that I see of the rural poverty, the life of the subsistence farmers who comprise a large chunk of the population, the disputes over access to fertile land and the large numbers of children (families of 10 children are not uncommon) that Ugandan women bear, the more distressed I have felt about trying to meet the basic needs of so many people. It was with great interest, then, that I bought the October 31st issue of The Economist which featured a cover story called “Falling fertility: How the population problem is solving itself.” This is a very well-written and engaging article which stimulated some sense of relief as well as concern in me. Some of the key points:
The replacement level of fertility is 2.1. The global average fertility rate is 2.3. The dramatically falling fertility rate (in 1950 it was 5.0) will dip below the global replacement rate for the first time in 2020.
In the 1970s only 24 countries had fertility rates of 2.1 or less, all of them rich. Now there are over 70 such countries, and in every continent, including Africa.
Between 1950 and 2000 the average fertility rate in developing countries fell by half from six to three- three fewer children in each family in just 50 years.
The Economist reports that the reason for this is that poor agrarian families find it more advantageous and less costly (per child) to have more children but that as their financial circumstances improve smaller families are more desired and make greater economic sense. Data show a strong relationship between per capita income and fertility. The spread of female education also leads to decreased fertility. Note that even if current projections hold, the world population is still expected to grow from 6 to 9 billion people before it levels off. Can our planet really support 3 billion more people and maintain ecological health? I am certainly not an expert on these matters. I just wanted to share them with you because I found it very interesting to read about. I must admit there is a part of me that gets so overwhelmed when I start thinking about environmental issues and population (issues such as de-forestaion, greenhouse gases, pollution, oil) that I think, “the next generation will just have to handle this without me” and I go back to concentrating on making a difference in my own small ways in spheres that I especially care about.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Gender Roles: Old and New in Uganda
November 5, 2009
Kate, the intern I wrote about in the Sustainable Development posting, also shared with me a story about the experience of two other interns that affected me greatly. An intern was assigned to talk with people in the local village about what people who are HIV+ need to do to stay healthy and to help their children to be healthy. No one would talk to her at all and people denied that there was any problem or AIDS in the village. There was ample reason to believe that this was not the case but no one would talk. After some sleuthing around what they discovered was that the men in the village were getting tested and, if they were HIV+ they were getting the medication they needed from the hospital in the closest city. But they were not telling their wives about the situation (because of the stigma of being HIV+) and almost all the mothers in the village were dying off “for unknown reasons”. The children were being cared for by the grandmothers, sometimes in their 70s and 80s taking care of 10 – 15 in one household, including many orphans from unrelated families.
Kate and Suki (the other intern) also told me that women have no sexual power in traditional society either to say “no” to sex or to require the use of a condom.
Hearing this distressed me profoundly and I decided to modify my planned talk on Nonviolent Communication for my second and final class with about 100 students at the YMCA business school in Jinga. Over 80% of the students at the school are females, pursing various occupational trainings such as secretarial work, child care, counseling, and tourism. One of the points that I got from Kate and Suki is that most of the people are just not used to having open discussions about topics such as these, and I figured that supporting such a discussion, considering different alternatives regarding the beliefs that we want to guide our lives, the values that are supported by different types of beliefs could be very useful for them. I also wanted to be respectful of their right to choose how they want to live their lives and what beliefs are meaningful to them.
I figured a discussion, drawing from the Narrative Therapy perspectives I have been studying, would be useful. I would ask them, collectively, to generate a list of traditional Ugandan beliefs about men and women and consider the impact of these beliefs on them, how they live their lives, their values, how they want to be in the world and their relationships with each other. Then I would ask them to generate a set of other kinds of beliefs about men and women that they have been exposed to, thought about or could imagine and what the effect of holding the alternative set of beliefs is on them. My intention was to have the evaluate the effects of these sets of beliefs, potentially to consider what story or stories about men and women they want to embrace in their lives.
They were pretty excited and engaged in this activity and some of what they came up with is below.
Traditional Ugandan Beliefs About Men and Women
* A man is supposed to ask for sex at any time he feels like having it and a woman has to give in whether she likes it or not.
* A woman is supposed to do all the domestic work and raise food. Men do cultural work like hunting.
* Men are masters over women.
* Women are emotionally weak.
* A woman should not talk when a man is talking.
* Women are not supposed to sit on chairs.
* Women should kneel when greeting someone.
* Women are not allowed to work in any organization.
* Women are inferior to men.
* Women are not supposed to eat certain foods like chicken, eggs and fish.
* The first man to have sex with a woman must marry her.
* Only men can inherit property.
* Men should marry several women.
* If a couple can't have children it's the woman's fault.
* Women should not give their views in public.
* The first priority for a family is to educate its men.
* Circumcision of men and women is desirable.
* Women are not allowed to preach.
* Girls and women can't climb trees or ride bicycles.
* Women cannot wear trousers; men cannot wear skirts.
* Women cannot drive cars safely.
* It is OK for men to rape women.
* Women should always be submissive to men.
* Women are the property of men.
* Men are always right.
* A woman is to blame for everything that goes wrong.
* The children in a family belong to the man.
* A man has a right to have as many women as he wants but a woman has to stick to only one.
* A man is supposed to decide “yes” or “no” but not women.
Modern Beliefs About Men and Women
* Women and men have equal rights like freedom on speech., education, participation in politics.
* Girls and women can climb trees, ride bicycles and drive cars.
* Women can work outside the home.
* Women do not need to kneel or be subservient to men.
* Women can sit on chairs and wear trousers
Looking at the lists, I am regretting that I didn't ask them questions about modern beliefs about how men and women might run a household together or treat each other. I was surprised and relieved to learn that the belief that is prevalent in South Africa, that a man can prevent AIDS or be cured of AIDS by having sex with a virgin is unfamiliar in Uganda. Sadly, in South Africa and some other countries (e.g. nearby Zimbabwe, I believe) that belief is a cause of many rapes of young women, girls and even female babies, frequently infecting them with the HIV virus.
Although there were indications that the students were very engaged in this activity, it was extremely difficult to get discussion going in the group as a whole, perhaps because of the reluctance of females, who comprised the majority of the class, to speak in public. I talked about the implications of women not feeling free to say “no” to a request for sex. How could a man know that a woman was really wanting to be with him for the enjoyment of his presence rather than because of feeling obligated in she were not free to say “no?” Don't we all want to be with people who really want to be with us? Don't we want to be loved for who we are? We can never trust that a “yes” is honest if people are not free to say “no.” I sensed this was a new take on things for these students. Ultimately, I affirmed, they have to decide how they want to live their lives, what beliefs and stories support them in being how they want to be and which ones they want to use to guide their decisions and their lives.
Kate, the intern I wrote about in the Sustainable Development posting, also shared with me a story about the experience of two other interns that affected me greatly. An intern was assigned to talk with people in the local village about what people who are HIV+ need to do to stay healthy and to help their children to be healthy. No one would talk to her at all and people denied that there was any problem or AIDS in the village. There was ample reason to believe that this was not the case but no one would talk. After some sleuthing around what they discovered was that the men in the village were getting tested and, if they were HIV+ they were getting the medication they needed from the hospital in the closest city. But they were not telling their wives about the situation (because of the stigma of being HIV+) and almost all the mothers in the village were dying off “for unknown reasons”. The children were being cared for by the grandmothers, sometimes in their 70s and 80s taking care of 10 – 15 in one household, including many orphans from unrelated families.
Kate and Suki (the other intern) also told me that women have no sexual power in traditional society either to say “no” to sex or to require the use of a condom.
Hearing this distressed me profoundly and I decided to modify my planned talk on Nonviolent Communication for my second and final class with about 100 students at the YMCA business school in Jinga. Over 80% of the students at the school are females, pursing various occupational trainings such as secretarial work, child care, counseling, and tourism. One of the points that I got from Kate and Suki is that most of the people are just not used to having open discussions about topics such as these, and I figured that supporting such a discussion, considering different alternatives regarding the beliefs that we want to guide our lives, the values that are supported by different types of beliefs could be very useful for them. I also wanted to be respectful of their right to choose how they want to live their lives and what beliefs are meaningful to them.
I figured a discussion, drawing from the Narrative Therapy perspectives I have been studying, would be useful. I would ask them, collectively, to generate a list of traditional Ugandan beliefs about men and women and consider the impact of these beliefs on them, how they live their lives, their values, how they want to be in the world and their relationships with each other. Then I would ask them to generate a set of other kinds of beliefs about men and women that they have been exposed to, thought about or could imagine and what the effect of holding the alternative set of beliefs is on them. My intention was to have the evaluate the effects of these sets of beliefs, potentially to consider what story or stories about men and women they want to embrace in their lives.
They were pretty excited and engaged in this activity and some of what they came up with is below.
Traditional Ugandan Beliefs About Men and Women
* A man is supposed to ask for sex at any time he feels like having it and a woman has to give in whether she likes it or not.
* A woman is supposed to do all the domestic work and raise food. Men do cultural work like hunting.
* Men are masters over women.
* Women are emotionally weak.
* A woman should not talk when a man is talking.
* Women are not supposed to sit on chairs.
* Women should kneel when greeting someone.
* Women are not allowed to work in any organization.
* Women are inferior to men.
* Women are not supposed to eat certain foods like chicken, eggs and fish.
* The first man to have sex with a woman must marry her.
* Only men can inherit property.
* Men should marry several women.
* If a couple can't have children it's the woman's fault.
* Women should not give their views in public.
* The first priority for a family is to educate its men.
* Circumcision of men and women is desirable.
* Women are not allowed to preach.
* Girls and women can't climb trees or ride bicycles.
* Women cannot wear trousers; men cannot wear skirts.
* Women cannot drive cars safely.
* It is OK for men to rape women.
* Women should always be submissive to men.
* Women are the property of men.
* Men are always right.
* A woman is to blame for everything that goes wrong.
* The children in a family belong to the man.
* A man has a right to have as many women as he wants but a woman has to stick to only one.
* A man is supposed to decide “yes” or “no” but not women.
Modern Beliefs About Men and Women
* Women and men have equal rights like freedom on speech., education, participation in politics.
* Girls and women can climb trees, ride bicycles and drive cars.
* Women can work outside the home.
* Women do not need to kneel or be subservient to men.
* Women can sit on chairs and wear trousers
Looking at the lists, I am regretting that I didn't ask them questions about modern beliefs about how men and women might run a household together or treat each other. I was surprised and relieved to learn that the belief that is prevalent in South Africa, that a man can prevent AIDS or be cured of AIDS by having sex with a virgin is unfamiliar in Uganda. Sadly, in South Africa and some other countries (e.g. nearby Zimbabwe, I believe) that belief is a cause of many rapes of young women, girls and even female babies, frequently infecting them with the HIV virus.
Although there were indications that the students were very engaged in this activity, it was extremely difficult to get discussion going in the group as a whole, perhaps because of the reluctance of females, who comprised the majority of the class, to speak in public. I talked about the implications of women not feeling free to say “no” to a request for sex. How could a man know that a woman was really wanting to be with him for the enjoyment of his presence rather than because of feeling obligated in she were not free to say “no?” Don't we all want to be with people who really want to be with us? Don't we want to be loved for who we are? We can never trust that a “yes” is honest if people are not free to say “no.” I sensed this was a new take on things for these students. Ultimately, I affirmed, they have to decide how they want to live their lives, what beliefs and stories support them in being how they want to be and which ones they want to use to guide their decisions and their lives.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
What Sustainable Development Might Look Like: One Intern's Experience
November 5, 2009
I am staying this week at a small family-run guest house in Jinja, Uganda, a small city 60 km from Kampala. At the house are also two young, short-term interns (3-6 months) associated with the Foundation for Sustainable Development (FSD - www.fsdinternational.org). I have spoken with one of them, Kate, from Washington State, in some detail and these conversations have had a major impact on me.
In this posting I would like to tell you about her work for FSD. Kate was assigned by FSD to work with a major NGO that assists HIV+ people in a variety of ways. Her work is in a small village near Jinja and her task has been to talk to people who are HIV+ and develop a plan with them of a project that would help to sustain them economically, to meet basic needs more effectively. From conversations with the assistance of an interpreter of the local language, she found that between harvests the people have little to eat. They usually eat only one meal a day at that time because they have no way to preserve food. She had heard of a nearby village that was drying food for preservation and learned of someone near Kampala who was an expert in canning and asked the people if these activities were something that they were interested in doing. They were extremely enthusiastic about the idea. Because the village is close to a major tourist center in Uganda (where I went whitewater rafting and where bungee jumping and kayaking are also very popular) there is also the possibility of selling these products to tourists for income generation.
So, Kate wrote a proposal for a seed grant ($200) from FSD describing the plan she and the villagers put together. Kate is leaving Uganda in a few days, having finished her 9-week commitment. Within that time, she co-developed the plan for food preservation, wrote the proposal, investigated how they could make driers using local equipment, hired a carpenter to construct the driers from wood and sheets of metal, brought in the canning consultant to teach the group members how to can, experimented with the group about what to dip the drying food in to attain good results (as far as appearance and taste go), wrote another grant for an additional $600 to build more driers, found local restaurants that would be interested in buying their products directly (rather than going through the local market and paying the cost of a middle man), and helped to set prices, and design marketing strategies. This morning at breakfast I tasted the first jar of pineapple jam produced by this group! I was amazed! Kate gave a lot of credit to her group, which has become very cohesive in supporting each other, transparent in sharing what they are doing with the money that is available, and open to discussing problems and issues. It is their project and she is hopeful that they will continue to develop their skills and organization after she leaves. She hopes that in January another intern will be assigned to further support them in their goals. FYI – I just check the FSD web-site. As I expected, interns and volunteers for FSD pay their own travel and maintenance expenses because there is no way that developing countries could afford to pay them. What they get is an incredible learning and growth experience. People of all ages and skills are involved.
Kate and I also talked about responding to requests for direct help from local people. “Will you help me to get glasses? My eyes are not good and I have trouble reading.” (This is a request from a student at Makerere University that I am currently dealing with.) “Will you pay my test fees so that I can take my exams?” “Will you pay for the medicine of my sick baby who will die without it?” “Can you give me money for food? My children are hungry.”
Kate doesn't believe in giving things to people, except insofar as helping them to get started with self-sustaining activities. I asked if this was because she thought such gifts encouraged dependency. I couldn't tell, but it seemed like for her it was more about wanting people to help themselves and not look for hand-outs. I guess that is close to what I asked, but it seemed like there was a shade of difference. I thought I detected a certain moralistic judgment about giving to people who are not “deserving” it, but I am not sure.
For me, the whole issue feels extremely complicated. Philosophically, I much prefer to give to organizations which can support communities, and groups and for which there is (hopefully) some sort of accountability process. But what about the student who needs the glasses? It is so hard for me to say “no” when I can say “yes.” (The other day I misplaced my glasses for a few hours and I was so grateful to know that if I needed a new pair I could get them. So I do have a small amount of experience to relate to his.) And the needs are so great. I can't possibly meet them all. And what does it mean for me to meet just this one? Will it make a difference “in the scheme of things?” Does that matter if I can just help one person right now? What about the other people who also need help right now? I find this all pretty confusing and even a bit upsetting. I have adopted the strategy of not making individual donations because it seems simpler than trying to figure out when and where to make them. But I can't say that I am comfortable with it.
Note: I did text the Makerere student that I was willing to meet with him and perhaps some others in the class to brainstorm ways he could get his glasses. I do believe there are some charities (e.g., Lions Club) that have that as a project. I would really like to see students as a group figure out ways collectively that they can support and assist each other. Somehow that seems like a better long-term investment in needs meeting than simply paying for his glasses. And it involves my supporting them in a way that I am more comfortable with. But I still struggle with the issue.
Uganda School for the Deaf: A warm visit
Sharing Nonviolent Communication with Deaf Children in Uganda
October 28, 2009
First, I would like to express my appreciation to all the members of the networks of trainers and trainer candidates of the Center for Nonviolent Communication who provided suggestions and support for my meeting with students at the Ugandan School for the Deaf a few days ago. Feeling really “out of my element”, not having a lot of experience working with children, or deaf people or Ugandans, it was very helpful and meaningful to me to receive so many thoughtful ideas and words of encouragement.
Some background.
The children at this school are among the most privileged of deaf children in Uganda in that they are in school and in what appears to me to be a very caring environment. (The school was founded 50 years ago by the mother of two deaf children and I suspect her passion, commitment and love have influenced the direction of the school tremendously. Her son is employed as an accountant in the United States; he and other “successful” graduates are held as important models for the children of what is possible.) Nationally, fewer than 10% of deaf children here are in school. It is very difficult for many parents here to pay for the educational expenses of their “normal” children, let alone find the resources to support children with special needs. And there is also the stigma of having a disabled child. Many deaf children are locked away in rooms and hidden from others. At the end of our time together I asked the children if they had any questions that they would like to ask of deaf children from the United States (I am hoping to get an interchange going) and one of their questions was “Do the parents of deaf children in the United States oppress them?”
The children are prime targets for all sorts of abuse from family members and people in the community. And because of communication problems they are especially susceptible to victimization; the perpetrator of the abuse can easily think he is invulnerable. On the continent as a whole, there is the belief among many that having sex with a virgin can cure or prevent AIDS. This leads to rape of children and young women who others may think are virgins. And, of course, the transmission of HIV to them.
The school is a very safe, protective environment for the children. Unfortunately, there are very few educational opportunities for them after they receive their primary education (7 years) unless their parents have substantial resources and determination to support their children. Most return to their home villages and have substantial struggle to meet their basic needs. Right now the Uganda School for the Deaf is fund-raising to open a vocational school for deaf students. Let me know if you would like to make a contribution and I will find out how you can do that.
I was given a tour of the school by a teacher who interpreted for me. I saw the one of the girls' dormitories of 40 bunk beds in one large room with barely room to walk around the beds. It was all very clean and neat. I saw the children dancing to music and playing games. I visited the special unit for deaf-blind children (5-10 of the children are so categorized) and also met some deaf children with additional handicaps (emotional disturbance, retardation, etc.). Then the interpreter gathered together half a dozen of the most advanced students and we went into a classroom. I explained that I had brought with me some words from children in the United States which describe some things that are very important American children and I was curious whether some of these things are also important to Ugandan children. The words were printed one per page and when I held up each work the children signed that word to signify that they understood it. As the children signed each of the words (the interpreter helped as needed) I noticed how excited the children were – they seemed so eager to take in these values that were important to American children and also, it seemed, very meaningful to them.
I asked the children to choose two of the values that they expecially liked and to say what they would like American children to know about why that value was important to them. Their names and what they said is as follows:
Ajaji Mwenda Beauty: God made everyone beautiful.
Moris Senyonjo Peace: Deaf need peace everywhere they are and where they go.
Matha Naggino Learning: Deaf can also go to school.
Namawenje Naome Respect: Our parents should respect our disabilities.
Tuhikayo Ndats To give to others; We give to others as they give back to us.
Monica Nyaco Rest: We need rest for what ever we do
They also had some questions that they would love to have answered by American children, including:
Is the learning system for the deaf in the USA the same?
Do the parents in USA oppress the disabled children as it is in Uganda?
Is the sign language in USA the same like that of Uganda?
Do deaf children in USA have the same understanding like the hearing children?
I was very moved by their eagerness to connect with deaf children in the USA and to learn more about our country. When I got back to the guesthouse I wrote to four residential schools for the deaf in NY and PA. A few days one (Western Pennsylvania School for the Deaf) responded that they had a class of children who would love to correspond and be pen pals with the Ugandan children! I am very happy about that. There is such a sense of isolation I pick up from the Ugandan children that I am delighted to connect them with others eager to get to know them. I have had bouts of temporary problems which have affected my hearing and recently I lost my voice for a few days. In some small way this gave me a taste of what that social isolation from the broader society might be like.
And there is such a dynamism and expressiveness that I see in Sign Language, that I am really tempted to learn it when I get home. I see it as potentially enriching my experience both in connecting with deaf people and with my own desire for expressiveness and aliveness.
October 28, 2009
First, I would like to express my appreciation to all the members of the networks of trainers and trainer candidates of the Center for Nonviolent Communication who provided suggestions and support for my meeting with students at the Ugandan School for the Deaf a few days ago. Feeling really “out of my element”, not having a lot of experience working with children, or deaf people or Ugandans, it was very helpful and meaningful to me to receive so many thoughtful ideas and words of encouragement.
Some background.
The children at this school are among the most privileged of deaf children in Uganda in that they are in school and in what appears to me to be a very caring environment. (The school was founded 50 years ago by the mother of two deaf children and I suspect her passion, commitment and love have influenced the direction of the school tremendously. Her son is employed as an accountant in the United States; he and other “successful” graduates are held as important models for the children of what is possible.) Nationally, fewer than 10% of deaf children here are in school. It is very difficult for many parents here to pay for the educational expenses of their “normal” children, let alone find the resources to support children with special needs. And there is also the stigma of having a disabled child. Many deaf children are locked away in rooms and hidden from others. At the end of our time together I asked the children if they had any questions that they would like to ask of deaf children from the United States (I am hoping to get an interchange going) and one of their questions was “Do the parents of deaf children in the United States oppress them?”
The children are prime targets for all sorts of abuse from family members and people in the community. And because of communication problems they are especially susceptible to victimization; the perpetrator of the abuse can easily think he is invulnerable. On the continent as a whole, there is the belief among many that having sex with a virgin can cure or prevent AIDS. This leads to rape of children and young women who others may think are virgins. And, of course, the transmission of HIV to them.
The school is a very safe, protective environment for the children. Unfortunately, there are very few educational opportunities for them after they receive their primary education (7 years) unless their parents have substantial resources and determination to support their children. Most return to their home villages and have substantial struggle to meet their basic needs. Right now the Uganda School for the Deaf is fund-raising to open a vocational school for deaf students. Let me know if you would like to make a contribution and I will find out how you can do that.
I was given a tour of the school by a teacher who interpreted for me. I saw the one of the girls' dormitories of 40 bunk beds in one large room with barely room to walk around the beds. It was all very clean and neat. I saw the children dancing to music and playing games. I visited the special unit for deaf-blind children (5-10 of the children are so categorized) and also met some deaf children with additional handicaps (emotional disturbance, retardation, etc.). Then the interpreter gathered together half a dozen of the most advanced students and we went into a classroom. I explained that I had brought with me some words from children in the United States which describe some things that are very important American children and I was curious whether some of these things are also important to Ugandan children. The words were printed one per page and when I held up each work the children signed that word to signify that they understood it. As the children signed each of the words (the interpreter helped as needed) I noticed how excited the children were – they seemed so eager to take in these values that were important to American children and also, it seemed, very meaningful to them.
I asked the children to choose two of the values that they expecially liked and to say what they would like American children to know about why that value was important to them. Their names and what they said is as follows:
Ajaji Mwenda Beauty: God made everyone beautiful.
Moris Senyonjo Peace: Deaf need peace everywhere they are and where they go.
Matha Naggino Learning: Deaf can also go to school.
Namawenje Naome Respect: Our parents should respect our disabilities.
Tuhikayo Ndats To give to others; We give to others as they give back to us.
Monica Nyaco Rest: We need rest for what ever we do
They also had some questions that they would love to have answered by American children, including:
Is the learning system for the deaf in the USA the same?
Do the parents in USA oppress the disabled children as it is in Uganda?
Is the sign language in USA the same like that of Uganda?
Do deaf children in USA have the same understanding like the hearing children?
I was very moved by their eagerness to connect with deaf children in the USA and to learn more about our country. When I got back to the guesthouse I wrote to four residential schools for the deaf in NY and PA. A few days one (Western Pennsylvania School for the Deaf) responded that they had a class of children who would love to correspond and be pen pals with the Ugandan children! I am very happy about that. There is such a sense of isolation I pick up from the Ugandan children that I am delighted to connect them with others eager to get to know them. I have had bouts of temporary problems which have affected my hearing and recently I lost my voice for a few days. In some small way this gave me a taste of what that social isolation from the broader society might be like.
And there is such a dynamism and expressiveness that I see in Sign Language, that I am really tempted to learn it when I get home. I see it as potentially enriching my experience both in connecting with deaf people and with my own desire for expressiveness and aliveness.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Terrifying Anti-Homosexuality Bill in Committee in Ugandan Parliament
October 28, 2009
My first day at Makere University I got a hand-out describing a bill tabled in Parliament on Oct. 14, 2009 and currently in committee. According to this information,(over 20 Human Rights organizations participated in putting it together) the following are at risk:
any parent who does not denounce their lesbian daughter or gay son to the authorities Failure to do so s/he will be fined 5,000,000 shillings ($2,500, a huge amount here) and or put away for three years
any teacher who does not report a lesbian or gay pupil to the authorities within 24 hours: Failure to do so s/he will be fined 5,000,000 shillings and or put away for three years
any landlord or landlady who happens to give housing to a suspected homosexual risks seven years of imprisonment
any medical doctor who seeks to prevent the spread of HIV/AIDS through working with what are known as most at risk populations, risks his or her career;
any human rights activist who seeks to promote an understanding of the indivisibility and inalienability of human rights would be judged to be promoting homosexuals and homosexuality, and be punished accordingly
any media house that publishes “pornographic” materials risks losing its certificate of registration and the editor will be liable to seven years in jail
any Person alleged to be a homosexual is at risk of LIFE IMPRISONMENT and, in some circumstances, the DEATH PENALTY
Further, the bill asserts Extra Territorial jurisdiction. All of the offenses covered by the bill can be applied to a Ugandan citizen or permanent resident who allegedly commits them outside the country. The bill calls for Uganda to nullify any international treaties, protocols, declarations and conventions which are believed to be “contradictory to the spirit and provisions' of the bill.
It is all so amazingly regressive – I can't believe this dialogue is seriously going on. The level of homophobia that I am encountering in Africa is just out of the realm of anything I am familiar with. I am so disturbed by what I have read that I am thinking of committing some time to this issue while I am here.
My first day at Makere University I got a hand-out describing a bill tabled in Parliament on Oct. 14, 2009 and currently in committee. According to this information,(over 20 Human Rights organizations participated in putting it together) the following are at risk:
any parent who does not denounce their lesbian daughter or gay son to the authorities Failure to do so s/he will be fined 5,000,000 shillings ($2,500, a huge amount here) and or put away for three years
any teacher who does not report a lesbian or gay pupil to the authorities within 24 hours: Failure to do so s/he will be fined 5,000,000 shillings and or put away for three years
any landlord or landlady who happens to give housing to a suspected homosexual risks seven years of imprisonment
any medical doctor who seeks to prevent the spread of HIV/AIDS through working with what are known as most at risk populations, risks his or her career;
any human rights activist who seeks to promote an understanding of the indivisibility and inalienability of human rights would be judged to be promoting homosexuals and homosexuality, and be punished accordingly
any media house that publishes “pornographic” materials risks losing its certificate of registration and the editor will be liable to seven years in jail
any Person alleged to be a homosexual is at risk of LIFE IMPRISONMENT and, in some circumstances, the DEATH PENALTY
Further, the bill asserts Extra Territorial jurisdiction. All of the offenses covered by the bill can be applied to a Ugandan citizen or permanent resident who allegedly commits them outside the country. The bill calls for Uganda to nullify any international treaties, protocols, declarations and conventions which are believed to be “contradictory to the spirit and provisions' of the bill.
It is all so amazingly regressive – I can't believe this dialogue is seriously going on. The level of homophobia that I am encountering in Africa is just out of the realm of anything I am familiar with. I am so disturbed by what I have read that I am thinking of committing some time to this issue while I am here.
Whitewater rafting on the Nile and first days in Kampala, Uganda
October 25, 2009
I am glad to be back in Uganda and beginning the “teaching and sharing” part of my sojourn in Africa. Being a tourist and constantly planning my days around how to have fun and find memorable places to visit pales for me after a few weeks. I want a better understanding of the places I am visiting and the experiences of the people who live here. So, spending six weeks in Uganda sharing Nonviolent Communication and mediation tools seems like the perfect opportunity for me.
Note: I am writing this blog after a week in Uganda; it is now October 29. So much has happened it seems like at least 3 weeks! But I do want to tell you about the whitewater rafting trip because it was very special, even though in some ways the experience is not as immediate now as it was 4 days ago. Gosh, I can't believe it was only 4 days!
I arrived at Entebbe airport Thursday night and was picked up by Larry, an employee of TATS (Teach and Tour Sojourners, the agency co-ordinating my visit and teaching). Larry said that the guest house I would be staying at was full that night because of the unexpected change in plans of one of the guests. I would stay at a nearby hotel in Kampala that night and move to the guest house the next day. Sounded OK to me. Well, the “hotel” was definitely a modest one and not well-maintained by my standards, but it had the basics, so I was OK with it. My only concern was the very loud music which seemed to emanate from an establishment extremely close to, perhaps underneath, my room. At the upscale hotel in Rwanda loud music ended at 10:30 pm, so I wasn't too worried. I asked somewhat jokingly if it would go all night and the woman answered, “No, not all night.” I wish that would have been the case. At 3 and 5 am it was still extremely loud; at 8 am when Larry was knocking on my door it was only moderately loud. Oh, brother! What a way to begin. Not what I was expecting for a Thursday night. I was very, very tired the whole next day.
Fortunately, things got better. The guest house that TATS runs to house teachers is quite comfortable and, because I am here at a time when few teachers are (as opposed during during July-August), I am receiving a great deal of personal attention from Larry and the few other staff as far as transporting me to meetings and classes, making arrangements for me to talk with Deans, principals, etc. The downside is that right now I am the only teacher TATS is hosting and it is kind of lonesome, in a way, not having others to talk to about their experiences. Also, because it seems a bit confusing getting around by myself and because he has offered, Larry has been driving me every place and somehow I think this has contributed to my not getting to have one-on-one informal conversations with people. I am talking with him about how I can be more independent. There doesn't seem to be as much concern about personal safety here as there was in South Africa and that gives me more confidence about taking this on. It is also so reassuring that English is so widely spoken and understood here; it is the language of instruction in all schools.
So, on to the the rafting. I saw a brochure for Whitewater rafting on the Nile and a description in the Lonely Planet guide. It sounded a bit more my speed than a 3-hour boat ride on the Nile that Larry proposed for a week-end excursion. My only concern was whether the physical demands might be more than my 64-year old arthritic knees could handle and whether the promised Grade 5 level rapids (6 is the highest grade given) would be unsuitable for a relatively nonproficient rafter. At the registration desk I was given a choice of a Grade 3 level excursion, but I was also assured that the Grade 5 level was suitable for beginners and when I asked if they had ever “lost” a customer, I was told “no.” So, I signed up for the 6-hour excursion and off we went.
It was pretty easy to tell the customers (all white and a few of Asian background) from the staff (all black). What might the natives be thinking of these young (pretty much all under 35) white folks from U.K., Europe, USA, Canada, New Zealand, Australia, Scandinavia, spending the equivalent of 1-2 months income for them on a one-day excursion? Spending a half-year's income on a one-day gorilla tracking permit ($500 from the Ugandan or Rwanda governments)?
We were given an orientation about what to expect for the day and then asked to sort ourselves into groups according to interests – those who wanted to “trash” the river (go down the river in the wildest, most challenging ways), the “conservatives” who wanted more sense of safety, and the “moderates.” I decided to go with the conservatives and wound up in a raft with two 20ish volunteers from UK working with children at a nearby orphanage, two 30-year olds from Canada on an extensive holiday, and a veterinarian from New Zealand. Two of the group were non-swimmers and a bit nervous about that but we were reassured that our vests would bring us to the surface no matter what.
Well, the long and the short of it is, this was THE VERY BEST RAFTING I have ever done. OK, that's not saying a huge amount. I have only been rafting in the Pocono Mountains and in Vancouver, B.C. But the quantity of Grade 4 and 5 rapids, and the challenge of it all, was wonderful. One rapid, known as Overtime, involved going over a 21 foot waterfall. Talk about getting the adrenalin pumping! Trust me – when the guide commanded us to “Get Down and Hang On” I sure as heck did!
Our guide was an amazing man from Zimbabwe with an incredible gift for languages. French, English, Spanish, and a gazillion tribal languages it seemed. He was also wonderfully strong, patient and helpful. I had a lot of trust in his guidance which was certainly helpful. We had to practice how to recover if we dumped and it was a bit more scary being trapped under the raft in the river than I thought it would be. I was glad that we didn't dump on the trip itself. But we were accompanied by a slew of strong young native men who frolicked in the river in their kayaks and were paid to rescue us very quickly if we did dump.
The only hard part was a 100 meter portage through the woods instead of doing the Grade 6 rapids in the river. We had been instructed to leave our sandals in the truck and so we went barefoot. Well, the week before I had had a pedicure in Rwanda with a woman who only spoke Kinyarwandan. To connect, I showed her the photos in my camera, which included those of my present trip to Africa as well as previous trips to India, Thailand and Cambodia, as well as some family pictures. She was intrigued by all of these (she did know a few words of English) and perhaps as a reward she spent 2 hours on my feet, including removing every remnant of a callous that ever existed. So there I was on the rocks and dirt with no protection for my tenderest of tender feet. It was really, really painful.
That plus the final exit climbing some boulders, dirt and rocks up the river bank to the truck. Between the knee problems and the tender feet, I really needed help. My guide lent me his arm and half-way up a young staff person lent me his worn flip-flops. I was SO GRATEFUL! I don't know how I would have done it without the flip-flops, especially. I tipped both of them the equivalent, I am guessing, of several pairs of flip-flops. It was so worth it.
Oh, yes, and the second thing that made the rafting so great was the temperature of the water and the air. I had assumed that Uganda, being on the equator, would be very hot, humid and uncomfortable. I am told that it is pretty hot in January and February, but it is really quite temperate and pleasant now – I would say in the 70s most of the day, sometimes a bit warmer, in the evenings a bit cooler. And the river temperature was also pretty warm. Rafting in Vancouver we had to wear wet suits and were still pretty cold and uncomfortable. And in the Poconos, the only time you get true whitewater rafting is when the Spring snows melt and add to the water flow. You can imagine what it feels like rafting in that water! We were all pretty delighted with the conditions, especially the experienced Canadian rafters who just loved the warmth.
I am glad to be back in Uganda and beginning the “teaching and sharing” part of my sojourn in Africa. Being a tourist and constantly planning my days around how to have fun and find memorable places to visit pales for me after a few weeks. I want a better understanding of the places I am visiting and the experiences of the people who live here. So, spending six weeks in Uganda sharing Nonviolent Communication and mediation tools seems like the perfect opportunity for me.
Note: I am writing this blog after a week in Uganda; it is now October 29. So much has happened it seems like at least 3 weeks! But I do want to tell you about the whitewater rafting trip because it was very special, even though in some ways the experience is not as immediate now as it was 4 days ago. Gosh, I can't believe it was only 4 days!
I arrived at Entebbe airport Thursday night and was picked up by Larry, an employee of TATS (Teach and Tour Sojourners, the agency co-ordinating my visit and teaching). Larry said that the guest house I would be staying at was full that night because of the unexpected change in plans of one of the guests. I would stay at a nearby hotel in Kampala that night and move to the guest house the next day. Sounded OK to me. Well, the “hotel” was definitely a modest one and not well-maintained by my standards, but it had the basics, so I was OK with it. My only concern was the very loud music which seemed to emanate from an establishment extremely close to, perhaps underneath, my room. At the upscale hotel in Rwanda loud music ended at 10:30 pm, so I wasn't too worried. I asked somewhat jokingly if it would go all night and the woman answered, “No, not all night.” I wish that would have been the case. At 3 and 5 am it was still extremely loud; at 8 am when Larry was knocking on my door it was only moderately loud. Oh, brother! What a way to begin. Not what I was expecting for a Thursday night. I was very, very tired the whole next day.
Fortunately, things got better. The guest house that TATS runs to house teachers is quite comfortable and, because I am here at a time when few teachers are (as opposed during during July-August), I am receiving a great deal of personal attention from Larry and the few other staff as far as transporting me to meetings and classes, making arrangements for me to talk with Deans, principals, etc. The downside is that right now I am the only teacher TATS is hosting and it is kind of lonesome, in a way, not having others to talk to about their experiences. Also, because it seems a bit confusing getting around by myself and because he has offered, Larry has been driving me every place and somehow I think this has contributed to my not getting to have one-on-one informal conversations with people. I am talking with him about how I can be more independent. There doesn't seem to be as much concern about personal safety here as there was in South Africa and that gives me more confidence about taking this on. It is also so reassuring that English is so widely spoken and understood here; it is the language of instruction in all schools.
So, on to the the rafting. I saw a brochure for Whitewater rafting on the Nile and a description in the Lonely Planet guide. It sounded a bit more my speed than a 3-hour boat ride on the Nile that Larry proposed for a week-end excursion. My only concern was whether the physical demands might be more than my 64-year old arthritic knees could handle and whether the promised Grade 5 level rapids (6 is the highest grade given) would be unsuitable for a relatively nonproficient rafter. At the registration desk I was given a choice of a Grade 3 level excursion, but I was also assured that the Grade 5 level was suitable for beginners and when I asked if they had ever “lost” a customer, I was told “no.” So, I signed up for the 6-hour excursion and off we went.
It was pretty easy to tell the customers (all white and a few of Asian background) from the staff (all black). What might the natives be thinking of these young (pretty much all under 35) white folks from U.K., Europe, USA, Canada, New Zealand, Australia, Scandinavia, spending the equivalent of 1-2 months income for them on a one-day excursion? Spending a half-year's income on a one-day gorilla tracking permit ($500 from the Ugandan or Rwanda governments)?
We were given an orientation about what to expect for the day and then asked to sort ourselves into groups according to interests – those who wanted to “trash” the river (go down the river in the wildest, most challenging ways), the “conservatives” who wanted more sense of safety, and the “moderates.” I decided to go with the conservatives and wound up in a raft with two 20ish volunteers from UK working with children at a nearby orphanage, two 30-year olds from Canada on an extensive holiday, and a veterinarian from New Zealand. Two of the group were non-swimmers and a bit nervous about that but we were reassured that our vests would bring us to the surface no matter what.
Well, the long and the short of it is, this was THE VERY BEST RAFTING I have ever done. OK, that's not saying a huge amount. I have only been rafting in the Pocono Mountains and in Vancouver, B.C. But the quantity of Grade 4 and 5 rapids, and the challenge of it all, was wonderful. One rapid, known as Overtime, involved going over a 21 foot waterfall. Talk about getting the adrenalin pumping! Trust me – when the guide commanded us to “Get Down and Hang On” I sure as heck did!
Our guide was an amazing man from Zimbabwe with an incredible gift for languages. French, English, Spanish, and a gazillion tribal languages it seemed. He was also wonderfully strong, patient and helpful. I had a lot of trust in his guidance which was certainly helpful. We had to practice how to recover if we dumped and it was a bit more scary being trapped under the raft in the river than I thought it would be. I was glad that we didn't dump on the trip itself. But we were accompanied by a slew of strong young native men who frolicked in the river in their kayaks and were paid to rescue us very quickly if we did dump.
The only hard part was a 100 meter portage through the woods instead of doing the Grade 6 rapids in the river. We had been instructed to leave our sandals in the truck and so we went barefoot. Well, the week before I had had a pedicure in Rwanda with a woman who only spoke Kinyarwandan. To connect, I showed her the photos in my camera, which included those of my present trip to Africa as well as previous trips to India, Thailand and Cambodia, as well as some family pictures. She was intrigued by all of these (she did know a few words of English) and perhaps as a reward she spent 2 hours on my feet, including removing every remnant of a callous that ever existed. So there I was on the rocks and dirt with no protection for my tenderest of tender feet. It was really, really painful.
That plus the final exit climbing some boulders, dirt and rocks up the river bank to the truck. Between the knee problems and the tender feet, I really needed help. My guide lent me his arm and half-way up a young staff person lent me his worn flip-flops. I was SO GRATEFUL! I don't know how I would have done it without the flip-flops, especially. I tipped both of them the equivalent, I am guessing, of several pairs of flip-flops. It was so worth it.
Oh, yes, and the second thing that made the rafting so great was the temperature of the water and the air. I had assumed that Uganda, being on the equator, would be very hot, humid and uncomfortable. I am told that it is pretty hot in January and February, but it is really quite temperate and pleasant now – I would say in the 70s most of the day, sometimes a bit warmer, in the evenings a bit cooler. And the river temperature was also pretty warm. Rafting in Vancouver we had to wear wet suits and were still pretty cold and uncomfortable. And in the Poconos, the only time you get true whitewater rafting is when the Spring snows melt and add to the water flow. You can imagine what it feels like rafting in that water! We were all pretty delighted with the conditions, especially the experienced Canadian rafters who just loved the warmth.
The Rwandan Genocide - Never Again?
October 17 – 22, 2009
Our group studying Collective Narrative Practices spent 5 days in Rwanda. To my surprise, I found Rwanda to be an extremely beautiful country with a beautiful countryside. It is the “land of 1000 hills” (“mille collines”) and the terracing of the land throughout the country, the cleanliness, the clay tile roofs speckling the hills remind me of countryside in Europe. Plus there is a huge amount of money for construction and development is being spent; it is one of the fastest growing economies in the world. I have heard reference to this being “guilt money” - guilt because of how the horrific genocide was ignored by the United Nations and by the developed countries who had the information about what was happening but didn't intervene when it might have made a difference.
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING TWO PARAGRAPH CONTAIN GRAPHIC MATERIAL– SKIP IF YOU PREFER NOT TO READ IT
On several fronts the Rwandan genocide stands out relative to others. It has the dubious distinction of having the greatest number of deaths in a short time: a million killings in 100 days or an average rate of 10,000 per day. It is one of the most physically brutal; civilians were killed face-to-face, often by people they knew or had relationships with, with machetes and other direct means. Body parts were slashed or hacked off, children and babies dismembered, tossed alive into wells and cess pools to drown, and so on. People were encouraged to gather in churches and schools and other “safe” places, then annihalated by the Hutus. We visited one school where 50,000 where slaughtered; a church where 10,000 were massacred. The number of memorial sites in this small country seemed endless. And then, of course, there were the mass rapes of women and girls, many by men who were HIV+.
And, to bring it home to us more personally, we were part of a team supporting trauma counselors for genocide survivors (from the IBUKA organization), people who were survivors themselves. These are people whose entire families and extended families were wiped out. How do you work with a client who is a young woman who is HIV+ because she was raped at age 3 during the genocide? And the counselor whom I spoke with who is raising two teen-age daughters by herself without any extended family because she is the only one who survived? And our taxi driver who is one of the very few Tutsi in the whole western region who survived because he was studying in Uganda at the time? It is pretty hard to take in the vastness of the numbers of people victimized, but one horrible story by a person sitting in front of me gets to me.
I read two books the week we were there, trying to gain some understanding of what happened and why. One was a book, An Ordinary Man, written by the “hero” of the movie Hotel Rwanda. The book was recommended by someone at the airport bookstore as being inspiring. Inspiration is good, I thought, and it was an easy read so I read almost all of it in a couple of days and felt like I was getting some understanding of the events. And then, at the very, very bare bones national tourist agency I saw a book titled Hotel Rwanda: or the Tutsi Genocide as Seen by Hollywood. This brief book is a scathing indictment of the other book and is written by two Rwandan academics. I just had to read this book which said that the other was a fraud of the worst kind. I could easily see serious problems of bias with both narratives.
I visited the Genocide Museum in Kigali, the capitol, and this was a very moving experience as well as somewhat enlightening. One part that really stays with me is their display of genocides in history – the Nazi holocaust, the Armenians, the North American slave trade, the Native Americans in the U.S., the genocide in Darfur. Do Americans accept that our behavior is viewed as genocide by others? Do we use that term in the history books that we give our children to read?
During the memorial period that Rwanda has each year to remember what happened the slogan “Never Again” is used repeatedly. And has anything changed in the 15 years since the Rwandan genocide that would lead me to think that this will never happen again? Hasn't it already happened again? I am not an expert in these matters, but when I see the level of violence that we are willing to accept in the world I don't really see any major changes.
On a related note, I am still very troubled by the statistics shown at the Slavery Museum in Cape Town – the number of adults and children in slavery conditions throughout the world is staggering. As is the trafficking in women and children that is occurring world-wide as sex slaves or for other purposes. And this doesn't count the number of parents who sell their children to others or pimp them themselves because they don't have the money to feed them. Or the violence of people dying of starvation, lack of health care and preventable diseases. For me this is just so very awful,...How can we even begin to think the phrase “never again” has meaning?
Our group studying Collective Narrative Practices spent 5 days in Rwanda. To my surprise, I found Rwanda to be an extremely beautiful country with a beautiful countryside. It is the “land of 1000 hills” (“mille collines”) and the terracing of the land throughout the country, the cleanliness, the clay tile roofs speckling the hills remind me of countryside in Europe. Plus there is a huge amount of money for construction and development is being spent; it is one of the fastest growing economies in the world. I have heard reference to this being “guilt money” - guilt because of how the horrific genocide was ignored by the United Nations and by the developed countries who had the information about what was happening but didn't intervene when it might have made a difference.
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING TWO PARAGRAPH CONTAIN GRAPHIC MATERIAL– SKIP IF YOU PREFER NOT TO READ IT
On several fronts the Rwandan genocide stands out relative to others. It has the dubious distinction of having the greatest number of deaths in a short time: a million killings in 100 days or an average rate of 10,000 per day. It is one of the most physically brutal; civilians were killed face-to-face, often by people they knew or had relationships with, with machetes and other direct means. Body parts were slashed or hacked off, children and babies dismembered, tossed alive into wells and cess pools to drown, and so on. People were encouraged to gather in churches and schools and other “safe” places, then annihalated by the Hutus. We visited one school where 50,000 where slaughtered; a church where 10,000 were massacred. The number of memorial sites in this small country seemed endless. And then, of course, there were the mass rapes of women and girls, many by men who were HIV+.
And, to bring it home to us more personally, we were part of a team supporting trauma counselors for genocide survivors (from the IBUKA organization), people who were survivors themselves. These are people whose entire families and extended families were wiped out. How do you work with a client who is a young woman who is HIV+ because she was raped at age 3 during the genocide? And the counselor whom I spoke with who is raising two teen-age daughters by herself without any extended family because she is the only one who survived? And our taxi driver who is one of the very few Tutsi in the whole western region who survived because he was studying in Uganda at the time? It is pretty hard to take in the vastness of the numbers of people victimized, but one horrible story by a person sitting in front of me gets to me.
I read two books the week we were there, trying to gain some understanding of what happened and why. One was a book, An Ordinary Man, written by the “hero” of the movie Hotel Rwanda. The book was recommended by someone at the airport bookstore as being inspiring. Inspiration is good, I thought, and it was an easy read so I read almost all of it in a couple of days and felt like I was getting some understanding of the events. And then, at the very, very bare bones national tourist agency I saw a book titled Hotel Rwanda: or the Tutsi Genocide as Seen by Hollywood. This brief book is a scathing indictment of the other book and is written by two Rwandan academics. I just had to read this book which said that the other was a fraud of the worst kind. I could easily see serious problems of bias with both narratives.
I visited the Genocide Museum in Kigali, the capitol, and this was a very moving experience as well as somewhat enlightening. One part that really stays with me is their display of genocides in history – the Nazi holocaust, the Armenians, the North American slave trade, the Native Americans in the U.S., the genocide in Darfur. Do Americans accept that our behavior is viewed as genocide by others? Do we use that term in the history books that we give our children to read?
During the memorial period that Rwanda has each year to remember what happened the slogan “Never Again” is used repeatedly. And has anything changed in the 15 years since the Rwandan genocide that would lead me to think that this will never happen again? Hasn't it already happened again? I am not an expert in these matters, but when I see the level of violence that we are willing to accept in the world I don't really see any major changes.
On a related note, I am still very troubled by the statistics shown at the Slavery Museum in Cape Town – the number of adults and children in slavery conditions throughout the world is staggering. As is the trafficking in women and children that is occurring world-wide as sex slaves or for other purposes. And this doesn't count the number of parents who sell their children to others or pimp them themselves because they don't have the money to feed them. Or the violence of people dying of starvation, lack of health care and preventable diseases. For me this is just so very awful,...How can we even begin to think the phrase “never again” has meaning?
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Visting Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 18 years
October 8, 2009
Mandela spent 27 years in captivity, 18 of them on Robben Island, 7 miles from Cape Town. The island has been used to hold people that the government has considered undesirable for 400 years. This includes political opponents, the mentally ill and lepers. It's most famous prisoner was Nelson Mandela. Robert Subokwe, the founder of the Pan African Congress and a great resistance leader was also held captive there.
I have not read about Mandela's captivity in detail, but would like to share what I do know, trusting that it may still be a contribution to those of you who know less about it than I do. If I write something that is not quite accurate and you feel it would be helpful or mearningful to correct what I write, please feel free to do so in a Comment on this post.
Mandela was arrested in 1966, it is believed, with the help of information from the CIA. A group of U.S. congress people proposed a bill that the U.S. apologize for using the CIA in this way, but the bill never got passed. The congress people made the apology anyway; the letter is on the wall at Mandela's former home in Soweto.
One of the great accomplishments of Mandela and the other political prisoners was their attempt to turn the prison on Robben Island into a university of learning. Inmates who were educated taught those who weren't how to read and write ("Each one teach one."). And correspondence courses with major European universities, including Master's degrees, were availble to inmates and guards alike.
Mandela realized right away that the guards were an imporant part of the community and that in their own ways they were victims of the system too. He was determined that he treat them with the care and respect that was consistent with how he wanted himself and others to be in the world. Over time, many guards became more supportive and sympathetic to their cause, but they were deliberately rotated every two years by the authoirities for this very reason.
Initially, Mandela and the other political prisoners were integrated with the "common" criminals. But the authories saw that this was having a radicalizing effect on the common folk, and decided to house the political prisoners together. This enabled many long and meaningful conversations among the leaders about how they would lead the country, what needed to be done, how they would do it when the imprisonment was over and how they could prepare for it in the present They often had these convrsations while working in the limestone quarry because that was when they had freer access to each other. The guide of the tour, a former political prisoner, said that the work in the quarry serve no useful purpose; the limestone was never used, just pushed from one place to another as a form of punishment. The glare of the bright sun on the limestone led to serious vision problems in all the prisoners. That is why Mandela, after release from Robben Island, would not have flash photography in his presence; it hurt his eyes.
The guide told us about a time when his own father had gotten permission to visit him; a long and difficult bureaucratice process. However, in applying for permission to visit a family member on Robben Island, family members themselves because suspected of being terrorists and opened themselves up to be targeted and abused. The guide was expecting his father on a certain day and time, and when he didn't show up, he eventually got word that his father had been shot eight times by police officers in a punitive action. Some of the details of this incident came out in the hearings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The police officers received amnesty and were not punished. His father has not been well ever since the shooting and is relatively incapacitated. With some emotion, the guide stated that the officers are now prosperous business people. He was clearly pained about the contrast in outcomes for the people involved on both sides of these events.
I very much want to read more about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission hearings. I have heard people on both sides talk with some discomfort or anger about the outcomes. A white person complained that people were told to tell the truth and they would not be punished. But only 20% received amnesty and were not punished, I have heard. Among those on the receiving end of apartheid abuses, many feel that justice was not done. I am not completely sure if there is because there was no punishment, because the full extent of the suffering was not fully acknowledged by those involved in its perpretration, or because of the lack of reparations (i.e. a serious attempt to repair the harm, to "make things right" as much as possible, to provide restitution). But for me, the whole process is amazing - not that it was perfect, but that it was done. That a serious attempt for a reconciliation, healing process that would acknowledge and respect the suffering of the many under apartheid and not simply reverse the status of oppressed and oppressor.
I also think that knowledge of what happened here could serve as an inspiration to the men at Graterford Prison near Philadelphia, where I will be working with the Restorative Justice group starting in January. Many of you may not know that I am a Master's degree student at the International Institute of Restorative Practices in Bethlehem, PA (www.iirp.org) which is part of how I got involved in this whole Narrative Practices work in the first place. I value greatly what this institute is teaching - how do bring restorative practices (which seek to bring people together when conflct and/or harm occur) into instutions of education, health care, social services, etc. Ahh,so many wonderful and meaningful things to be involved in,..
Mandela spent 27 years in captivity, 18 of them on Robben Island, 7 miles from Cape Town. The island has been used to hold people that the government has considered undesirable for 400 years. This includes political opponents, the mentally ill and lepers. It's most famous prisoner was Nelson Mandela. Robert Subokwe, the founder of the Pan African Congress and a great resistance leader was also held captive there.
I have not read about Mandela's captivity in detail, but would like to share what I do know, trusting that it may still be a contribution to those of you who know less about it than I do. If I write something that is not quite accurate and you feel it would be helpful or mearningful to correct what I write, please feel free to do so in a Comment on this post.
Mandela was arrested in 1966, it is believed, with the help of information from the CIA. A group of U.S. congress people proposed a bill that the U.S. apologize for using the CIA in this way, but the bill never got passed. The congress people made the apology anyway; the letter is on the wall at Mandela's former home in Soweto.
One of the great accomplishments of Mandela and the other political prisoners was their attempt to turn the prison on Robben Island into a university of learning. Inmates who were educated taught those who weren't how to read and write ("Each one teach one."). And correspondence courses with major European universities, including Master's degrees, were availble to inmates and guards alike.
Mandela realized right away that the guards were an imporant part of the community and that in their own ways they were victims of the system too. He was determined that he treat them with the care and respect that was consistent with how he wanted himself and others to be in the world. Over time, many guards became more supportive and sympathetic to their cause, but they were deliberately rotated every two years by the authoirities for this very reason.
Initially, Mandela and the other political prisoners were integrated with the "common" criminals. But the authories saw that this was having a radicalizing effect on the common folk, and decided to house the political prisoners together. This enabled many long and meaningful conversations among the leaders about how they would lead the country, what needed to be done, how they would do it when the imprisonment was over and how they could prepare for it in the present They often had these convrsations while working in the limestone quarry because that was when they had freer access to each other. The guide of the tour, a former political prisoner, said that the work in the quarry serve no useful purpose; the limestone was never used, just pushed from one place to another as a form of punishment. The glare of the bright sun on the limestone led to serious vision problems in all the prisoners. That is why Mandela, after release from Robben Island, would not have flash photography in his presence; it hurt his eyes.
The guide told us about a time when his own father had gotten permission to visit him; a long and difficult bureaucratice process. However, in applying for permission to visit a family member on Robben Island, family members themselves because suspected of being terrorists and opened themselves up to be targeted and abused. The guide was expecting his father on a certain day and time, and when he didn't show up, he eventually got word that his father had been shot eight times by police officers in a punitive action. Some of the details of this incident came out in the hearings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The police officers received amnesty and were not punished. His father has not been well ever since the shooting and is relatively incapacitated. With some emotion, the guide stated that the officers are now prosperous business people. He was clearly pained about the contrast in outcomes for the people involved on both sides of these events.
I very much want to read more about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission hearings. I have heard people on both sides talk with some discomfort or anger about the outcomes. A white person complained that people were told to tell the truth and they would not be punished. But only 20% received amnesty and were not punished, I have heard. Among those on the receiving end of apartheid abuses, many feel that justice was not done. I am not completely sure if there is because there was no punishment, because the full extent of the suffering was not fully acknowledged by those involved in its perpretration, or because of the lack of reparations (i.e. a serious attempt to repair the harm, to "make things right" as much as possible, to provide restitution). But for me, the whole process is amazing - not that it was perfect, but that it was done. That a serious attempt for a reconciliation, healing process that would acknowledge and respect the suffering of the many under apartheid and not simply reverse the status of oppressed and oppressor.
I also think that knowledge of what happened here could serve as an inspiration to the men at Graterford Prison near Philadelphia, where I will be working with the Restorative Justice group starting in January. Many of you may not know that I am a Master's degree student at the International Institute of Restorative Practices in Bethlehem, PA (www.iirp.org) which is part of how I got involved in this whole Narrative Practices work in the first place. I value greatly what this institute is teaching - how do bring restorative practices (which seek to bring people together when conflct and/or harm occur) into instutions of education, health care, social services, etc. Ahh,so many wonderful and meaningful things to be involved in,..
Three Nights in a Black African Township near Cape Town
October 4 - 7, 2009
I am extremely grateful that the organizers of our trip had the foresight to arrange for us to spend three nights in a B&B in a Black African township near Cape Town. (It could have been arranged near Johannesburg but they were trying to take into account that some of us have not traveled broadly and they wanted us to get used to being in South Africa first before having what might be a more challenging experience of being in a township.)
I think for many of us this was a most meaningful part of our stay, even the highlight so far. I very much enjoyed getting to know Florence and she spared no effort in seeing that we all were comfortable and well cared for. This was also true of the experience of my peers who stayed at a different B&B, Lisiwe's, with an equally warm and hospitable host (actually a couple, Donald and Lisiwe). Florence's home itself was very lovely: we referred to it as "the palace" because of a variety of luxury touches.
The people in the township are very eager to develop businesses and they go to great lengths to make us feel welcome - to introduce us to the local people, to orient us about safety, and to watch over us with care. This includes, of course, an introduction to the taverns and shebeens (small drinking rooms), the local brews and customs.This isn't my preferred way of socializing, but one of our group (a Norwegian), enjoys this method the most. One night he "sneaked" out of the B&B and went to a local shebeen by himself. The owner called our B&B to tell them that one of their guests was there. He said "No, everyone is asleep." When he found out this was not the case he went over there and asked the owner to be sure that someone walked him home safely when he was done.
As in Soweto, there are elegant homes, shacks and everything in between. Staying overnight and getting to know the people this way seems so much more appealing than just taking a Township tour on a bus and talking to local folks in a pre-arranged fashion, at best. While visits by people of European background are increasingly common in the townships, they have essentially no overnight guests who are of South African (SA) background. I am confident that staying in a township would never occur to most of the white folks in SA.
I would strongly recommend such a visit to anyone going to South Africa and to support the township economy by using their services. My host asked me how to increase her visibility and business and I made some marketing suggestions which focused on the uniqueness of what she and the others can offer, rather than just the attractiveness and comfort of their facilities. If I had had more time, I would have loved a visit to the local schools, church etc.to get to know the people more fully. And, of course, I sensed that she and the others were just as happy to get to know us.
I am extremely grateful that the organizers of our trip had the foresight to arrange for us to spend three nights in a B&B in a Black African township near Cape Town. (It could have been arranged near Johannesburg but they were trying to take into account that some of us have not traveled broadly and they wanted us to get used to being in South Africa first before having what might be a more challenging experience of being in a township.)
I think for many of us this was a most meaningful part of our stay, even the highlight so far. I very much enjoyed getting to know Florence and she spared no effort in seeing that we all were comfortable and well cared for. This was also true of the experience of my peers who stayed at a different B&B, Lisiwe's, with an equally warm and hospitable host (actually a couple, Donald and Lisiwe). Florence's home itself was very lovely: we referred to it as "the palace" because of a variety of luxury touches.
The people in the township are very eager to develop businesses and they go to great lengths to make us feel welcome - to introduce us to the local people, to orient us about safety, and to watch over us with care. This includes, of course, an introduction to the taverns and shebeens (small drinking rooms), the local brews and customs.This isn't my preferred way of socializing, but one of our group (a Norwegian), enjoys this method the most. One night he "sneaked" out of the B&B and went to a local shebeen by himself. The owner called our B&B to tell them that one of their guests was there. He said "No, everyone is asleep." When he found out this was not the case he went over there and asked the owner to be sure that someone walked him home safely when he was done.
As in Soweto, there are elegant homes, shacks and everything in between. Staying overnight and getting to know the people this way seems so much more appealing than just taking a Township tour on a bus and talking to local folks in a pre-arranged fashion, at best. While visits by people of European background are increasingly common in the townships, they have essentially no overnight guests who are of South African (SA) background. I am confident that staying in a township would never occur to most of the white folks in SA.
I would strongly recommend such a visit to anyone going to South Africa and to support the township economy by using their services. My host asked me how to increase her visibility and business and I made some marketing suggestions which focused on the uniqueness of what she and the others can offer, rather than just the attractiveness and comfort of their facilities. If I had had more time, I would have loved a visit to the local schools, church etc.to get to know the people more fully. And, of course, I sensed that she and the others were just as happy to get to know us.
The Passions of a Zimbabwean Physician working in South Africa
October 10, 2009
On the plane from Cape Town to Johannesburg today I sat next to a OB/GYN physician from Zimbabwe who has been living in South Africa for 18 years and had just attended the triennial international gathering of OB/GYN physicians in Cape Town.Our conversation became very animated when I asked about the question of maternal transmission of HIV during pregnancy. This subject, of course, had great meaning to me having just met scores of beautiful children with HIV+ and AIDS. I didn't realize that maternal transmission of the HIV virus is virtually 100% preventable! He has not had a case of an HIV+ baby being born in his private practice for over 7 years.
The mother needs to take tablets twice a day and if started at 14 weeks of gestation (the American protocol) the transmission rate (chances of the baby being HIV+ if the mother is) is less than .1 %. If started at 36 weeks (the Thai protocol, to save money), the rate of transmission is 13%. If started when the mother is in labor the rate is 30% and without treatment the rate is 45%. So, it is clear. Medical science has done its job in this arena. Pediatric AIDS can and should be a thing of the past. The only thing that is needed is the will and the money. The only thing,.... And then I think of the many dying or having their lives seriously compromised because of lack of food - a problem, I infer, throughout the continent. That's the same thing, isn't it? The food is here, but not the universal determination to eradicate hunger.
The physician also addresses some psychosocial aspects of treatment in his practice. In particular, he requires that all of the women AND their partner both be tested for HIV and STDs. He refuses to test only the woman only. He does this so that both become aligned with treatment, if needed. When only one member of the pair is HIV+, which is a common occurrence, this allows him to explain that if the affected member takes his/her treatment both the other partner and the children will all be healthy and don't have to worry about their life being compromised. Whatever the HIV status of the two partners, they can be true partners and supportive of each other. Because of this approach he does not see spouses leaving or being left in the relationship because of their HIV status., which otherwise does happen with some frequency.
The physician also shared with me how he, a poor fellow from Zimbabwe, became a successful medical specialist. He had received inspiration and encouragement from his nonliterate dad ("Education is salvation.") and was very determined. He would walk 25 km to read things at the library and from there got the idea to seek out scholarships. The physician also shared how he and his wife (a pharmacist) had recently decided not to put any more money into investments for themselves but to use it to help the desperate Zimbabweans who are migrating to South Africa and have a very hard time getting the basics, (food, shelter,..) that they need. Looking at the magnitude of the suffering was hard for both of us.
I am feeling a little self-conscious as I write this. So much of what I write is about the hardship of people here; I have occasionally been asked "Do you revel in people's suffering?" I would say revel is not exactly my experience. But hardship and trauma are a focus of this course in Narrative Practices that I am involved in. And it is also something that moves me greatly, that I wish to diminish in some small way by my presence and/or skills. The combination of the hardship, and the hope, and the means of resisting the feeling of powerlessness that often is associated with hardship do draw my attention keenly. I don't know how my writings and ruminations will be similar or different when I move on to the teaching part of my trip (starting Oct. 23). My hunch is that it will change some, but I suspect the challenges of the people will be frequently present with me.
On the plane from Cape Town to Johannesburg today I sat next to a OB/GYN physician from Zimbabwe who has been living in South Africa for 18 years and had just attended the triennial international gathering of OB/GYN physicians in Cape Town.Our conversation became very animated when I asked about the question of maternal transmission of HIV during pregnancy. This subject, of course, had great meaning to me having just met scores of beautiful children with HIV+ and AIDS. I didn't realize that maternal transmission of the HIV virus is virtually 100% preventable! He has not had a case of an HIV+ baby being born in his private practice for over 7 years.
The mother needs to take tablets twice a day and if started at 14 weeks of gestation (the American protocol) the transmission rate (chances of the baby being HIV+ if the mother is) is less than .1 %. If started at 36 weeks (the Thai protocol, to save money), the rate of transmission is 13%. If started when the mother is in labor the rate is 30% and without treatment the rate is 45%. So, it is clear. Medical science has done its job in this arena. Pediatric AIDS can and should be a thing of the past. The only thing that is needed is the will and the money. The only thing,.... And then I think of the many dying or having their lives seriously compromised because of lack of food - a problem, I infer, throughout the continent. That's the same thing, isn't it? The food is here, but not the universal determination to eradicate hunger.
The physician also addresses some psychosocial aspects of treatment in his practice. In particular, he requires that all of the women AND their partner both be tested for HIV and STDs. He refuses to test only the woman only. He does this so that both become aligned with treatment, if needed. When only one member of the pair is HIV+, which is a common occurrence, this allows him to explain that if the affected member takes his/her treatment both the other partner and the children will all be healthy and don't have to worry about their life being compromised. Whatever the HIV status of the two partners, they can be true partners and supportive of each other. Because of this approach he does not see spouses leaving or being left in the relationship because of their HIV status., which otherwise does happen with some frequency.
The physician also shared with me how he, a poor fellow from Zimbabwe, became a successful medical specialist. He had received inspiration and encouragement from his nonliterate dad ("Education is salvation.") and was very determined. He would walk 25 km to read things at the library and from there got the idea to seek out scholarships. The physician also shared how he and his wife (a pharmacist) had recently decided not to put any more money into investments for themselves but to use it to help the desperate Zimbabweans who are migrating to South Africa and have a very hard time getting the basics, (food, shelter,..) that they need. Looking at the magnitude of the suffering was hard for both of us.
I am feeling a little self-conscious as I write this. So much of what I write is about the hardship of people here; I have occasionally been asked "Do you revel in people's suffering?" I would say revel is not exactly my experience. But hardship and trauma are a focus of this course in Narrative Practices that I am involved in. And it is also something that moves me greatly, that I wish to diminish in some small way by my presence and/or skills. The combination of the hardship, and the hope, and the means of resisting the feeling of powerlessness that often is associated with hardship do draw my attention keenly. I don't know how my writings and ruminations will be similar or different when I move on to the teaching part of my trip (starting Oct. 23). My hunch is that it will change some, but I suspect the challenges of the people will be frequently present with me.
Mother-to-Mother and Amy Biehl 10-9-09
October 9, 2009
It is amazing – within a 24 hour period how many different powerful experiences and events I am exposed to. Yesterday I was staying in beautiful home in a Black South African township on the outskirts of Cape Town named Gugulethu. This township had some notoriety in the 1990s when a white American Fulbright scholar named Amy Biehl was working to register Black voters to vote for the first time in South Africa, in the election that ultimately put Nelson Mandela in charge of the country. She was in a van in Guguletu when a crowd of youth attacked the bus and ultimately beat, stabbed and killed her. This happened blocks from where we were staying and the news was all over the world for a period of time. Last night several of us from the Collective Narrative Practices course went to see an acclaimed play based on this incident called Mother to Mother. It was a powerful one-woman performance focused on the mother of the boy who was part of the stabbing. She did a wonderful job portraying such a full range of emotions including the grief for the mother of the woman whom her son killed as well as grief for herself and her son. I especially enjoyed sharing this evening with the African woman my age, Florence, the owner of the B&B where we are staying who was also greatly moved by the performance. Florence teaches nursing students and is very interested in learning more about Nonviolent Communication. We are talking about ways for her to come to the New York Intensive Residential Training in NVC.
For some more info about the Amy Biehl case, one place you can read is:
http://www.myhero.com/myhero/hero.asp?hero=a_biehl
I do find it an inspiring story – especially reading about how the parents of Amy Biehl supported dialogue, amnesty and reconciliation with the boys involved in the killing, two of whom now work dedicatedly for the Amy Biehl Foundation (see www.amybiehl.org) her parents created to support these goals in the world.
Some questions that are sometimes not asked about this event. Would there have been world-wide attention if she had not been a person of such privileged background (and being young and photogenic didn't hurt either)? Amy had so many choices about where she could be and how she could live her life. How about the “killers?”
It is amazing – within a 24 hour period how many different powerful experiences and events I am exposed to. Yesterday I was staying in beautiful home in a Black South African township on the outskirts of Cape Town named Gugulethu. This township had some notoriety in the 1990s when a white American Fulbright scholar named Amy Biehl was working to register Black voters to vote for the first time in South Africa, in the election that ultimately put Nelson Mandela in charge of the country. She was in a van in Guguletu when a crowd of youth attacked the bus and ultimately beat, stabbed and killed her. This happened blocks from where we were staying and the news was all over the world for a period of time. Last night several of us from the Collective Narrative Practices course went to see an acclaimed play based on this incident called Mother to Mother. It was a powerful one-woman performance focused on the mother of the boy who was part of the stabbing. She did a wonderful job portraying such a full range of emotions including the grief for the mother of the woman whom her son killed as well as grief for herself and her son. I especially enjoyed sharing this evening with the African woman my age, Florence, the owner of the B&B where we are staying who was also greatly moved by the performance. Florence teaches nursing students and is very interested in learning more about Nonviolent Communication. We are talking about ways for her to come to the New York Intensive Residential Training in NVC.
For some more info about the Amy Biehl case, one place you can read is:
http://www.myhero.com/myhero/hero.asp?hero=a_biehl
I do find it an inspiring story – especially reading about how the parents of Amy Biehl supported dialogue, amnesty and reconciliation with the boys involved in the killing, two of whom now work dedicatedly for the Amy Biehl Foundation (see www.amybiehl.org) her parents created to support these goals in the world.
Some questions that are sometimes not asked about this event. Would there have been world-wide attention if she had not been a person of such privileged background (and being young and photogenic didn't hurt either)? Amy had so many choices about where she could be and how she could live her life. How about the “killers?”
Friday, October 9, 2009
Thoughts from visiting orphaned and vulnerable children
Oct. 1, 2009
The visit today was similar in some ways to the visit with the HIV+/AIDS children on Monday, Sept. 28; most of the children with HIV/AIDS have lost one or both parents and a significant number of the children classified as orphaned or vulnerable (that is, from extremely poor families and circumstances) are HIV+.
And thinking of our discussion of the children, this time I was particularly alert to noticing the children's nonverbal behavior. They were very curious about us – where are you from? What is the weather like? What sports do you like? They were relatively open to sharing with us, after we broke the ice by playing some games together. I noticed how much energy they had for running and competing. And how eagerly they cheered the other children on who were on their team. And how excited they were to be playing with simple objects (a hoola hoop, a ball) or no objects other than their own hands (clapping games, tag games, etc.)
I couldn't help wondering whether American children have paid a serious price for the ready availability of TV, DVDs, and all manner of video games.
I am also surprised to reflect on how this experience of getting to know hardship is similar and different from what I learned in my trip to India in 2007. In 2007 I traveled more or less independently, sometimes with my friend Kanya, sometimes with my husband Bill, son Justin and Justin's partner, Mohamad, and sometimes alone. Because I had made connections in India from my Nonviolent Communication work, I and we were able to visit various non-governmental and governmental agencies and families hosted by Indian people. I am now really appreciating how very much we saw that way and how rich and deep the experience was. On the present trip, I am extremely grateful to the organizers for doing their best to arrange meaningful learning experiences for us, and yet the cumbersomeness of traveling and visiting in a group of 13 – 19 people leads to both great inefficiencies in the use of our time and also barriers to connection when one or two local people are being interviewed in the context of a large group that is trying its best to be respectful and culturally sensitive. (Note: often we would divide into sub-groups of 5 or so, but there was still and “institutional” feel to our visit and some of the people we were visiting may have perceived our visit as some sort of “official” visit from NGO people rather than the informal sharing of experiences that we intended.)
The hypothesis that I am entertaining at this time is that traveling alone or with one or two compatible others may be a preferred mode for me. I am thinking that it gives flexibility, manageability and a potential depth to my interactions with people whom I meet that is difficult to have in the large group setting. For me the serious issue is potential loneliness from a lack of connection. There have definitely been times in my past when I have had “melt downs” when traveling alone – felt miserable and lonesome. So far, in my recent international trips this has not been a serious problem. I do remember a few bouts of misery in the 2007 Asia trip and some definite longing for closeness and intimacy in the 2008 Asia trip, but there were not very extended and I think my strategies for survival and connection (primarily low-cost telephone calls to the United States and e-mail connections worked pretty well. I guess I will have lots of opportunity to see how good that really is for me during the 6 weeks that I will be in Uganda and 2 weeks in Kenya. Wish me luck! AND if you would like to connect through e-mail or writing comments on my blog postings, I will be totally grateful.
The visit today was similar in some ways to the visit with the HIV+/AIDS children on Monday, Sept. 28; most of the children with HIV/AIDS have lost one or both parents and a significant number of the children classified as orphaned or vulnerable (that is, from extremely poor families and circumstances) are HIV+.
And thinking of our discussion of the children, this time I was particularly alert to noticing the children's nonverbal behavior. They were very curious about us – where are you from? What is the weather like? What sports do you like? They were relatively open to sharing with us, after we broke the ice by playing some games together. I noticed how much energy they had for running and competing. And how eagerly they cheered the other children on who were on their team. And how excited they were to be playing with simple objects (a hoola hoop, a ball) or no objects other than their own hands (clapping games, tag games, etc.)
I couldn't help wondering whether American children have paid a serious price for the ready availability of TV, DVDs, and all manner of video games.
I am also surprised to reflect on how this experience of getting to know hardship is similar and different from what I learned in my trip to India in 2007. In 2007 I traveled more or less independently, sometimes with my friend Kanya, sometimes with my husband Bill, son Justin and Justin's partner, Mohamad, and sometimes alone. Because I had made connections in India from my Nonviolent Communication work, I and we were able to visit various non-governmental and governmental agencies and families hosted by Indian people. I am now really appreciating how very much we saw that way and how rich and deep the experience was. On the present trip, I am extremely grateful to the organizers for doing their best to arrange meaningful learning experiences for us, and yet the cumbersomeness of traveling and visiting in a group of 13 – 19 people leads to both great inefficiencies in the use of our time and also barriers to connection when one or two local people are being interviewed in the context of a large group that is trying its best to be respectful and culturally sensitive. (Note: often we would divide into sub-groups of 5 or so, but there was still and “institutional” feel to our visit and some of the people we were visiting may have perceived our visit as some sort of “official” visit from NGO people rather than the informal sharing of experiences that we intended.)
The hypothesis that I am entertaining at this time is that traveling alone or with one or two compatible others may be a preferred mode for me. I am thinking that it gives flexibility, manageability and a potential depth to my interactions with people whom I meet that is difficult to have in the large group setting. For me the serious issue is potential loneliness from a lack of connection. There have definitely been times in my past when I have had “melt downs” when traveling alone – felt miserable and lonesome. So far, in my recent international trips this has not been a serious problem. I do remember a few bouts of misery in the 2007 Asia trip and some definite longing for closeness and intimacy in the 2008 Asia trip, but there were not very extended and I think my strategies for survival and connection (primarily low-cost telephone calls to the United States and e-mail connections worked pretty well. I guess I will have lots of opportunity to see how good that really is for me during the 6 weeks that I will be in Uganda and 2 weeks in Kenya. Wish me luck! AND if you would like to connect through e-mail or writing comments on my blog postings, I will be totally grateful.
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