My opinion matters…

Two weeks ago a campaign known as KONY 2012 went viral. Since I am living in Uganda my email, facebook and other forms of media became flooded with questions and critiques regarding Invisible Children and who Kony is. At first I did not want to respond to anything. I thought to myself, just because I am living in Uganda does not make me an expert on Invisible Children and their relationship to society.

However, my opinion on Kony’s affect on Uganda does matter. My opinion is not more valid because I am living in Uganda and my opinion is not truth, but my opinion is available for those who are interested.

Most NGO’s coming from the west into a developing nation receive a lot of critique. I know this because I tend to be a heavy critique for all foreign aid. I believe critique is necessary to keep NGO’s in check. Is the NGO cultural aware of the influence they have on the community? Is the NGO using their power and privilege to help the community? What are the unintended consequences? Is the NGO helping? Is the NGO creating a sustainable life for locals and working themselves out of a job? There are countless questions and countless concerns. I believe the concerns stem from guilt in inappropriate evangelism or a painful history of colonization. Either way, each opinion is valid. My fear is a knee jerk reaction of validating every opinion and claiming an opinion without proper evidence for every side.

Obviously no human, organization or NGO is perfect. But moving and doing something about the issues of the world is important. I will say that Invisible Children is doing something to spread knowledge. KONY 2012 is a campaign aimed at spreading awareness of the reality of who Joseph KONY is in Northern Uganda and the Congo. In my opinion, the knowledge of KONY is spreading. This shows in how viral KONY 2012 has become and how many articles are coming out on a daily basis. People are talking about KONY, people are learning about the history of the LRA. The news that daily bombards us in the US, tends to be entertainment (ie Janet Jackson) or news that directly lands on our front door. Kony’s presence is very real. The past two decades should not have happened and future generations of Uganda and Congo will be affected drastically.

If Invisible Children is right or wrong, I cannot decide. What I can say is that they are passionately trying to spread awareness of the reality of life and history in Northern Uganda (and now the Congo) that many Americans can become desensitized to. In this they have succeeded, and I am glad.

Please read the following articles:

http://thepublicqueue.com/2012/im-strongly-opposed-to-the-kony2012-campaign/

http://www.invisiblechildren.com/critiques.html

http://www.washingtonpost.com/national/invisible-children-addresses-critics-after-video-of-african-warlord-goes-viral-on-internet/2012/03/12/gIQAHYbE8R_story.html

Akwata empola atuka wala

Current Emotion: Attentive

During my first week at work I met my first “mukwano” (friend), Stephen. As he was getting me acclimated to town, I found out that before he was a driver, my mukwano was a teacher. I thought, PERFECT! This is the person who is going to teach me my Lugandan language skills. He taught me a few words each day for about a month. In that time, I began learning a few Lugandan proverbs.

I feel like I don’t know a culture, until I get the essence of the language. Which I find is the greatest disparity when I travel and trying to get to know the beauty of a culture. Without the language there is only so much I can grasp.

(A side note is, when I came there was a joke made at this comedic cultural performance about Luganda using sense incorrectly and saying “taste” to describe colors and scenery instead of “see.” For me, taste captured something deeper than just seeing. I know it was supposed to be a comedic moment in the performance. But I felt like it gave me a new perspective on how I describe the daily interactions I have with creation. I am not saying I get the essence of Luganda at all (quite the contrary). This is simply a memory I had lodged in my brain and decided to share)

Anyway back to Lugandan proverbs. My favorite proverb has been, “Akwata Empola Atuka Wala,” meaning those who go slowly will reach the end, or patience pays.

This proverb has meant more to me in the past two months, than the previous 5. I will spare you details, but I have been in and out of offices, talking to people on the phone, organizing paperwork for the past two months trying to get two vehicles to our office so we can serve our clients better. I have failed numerous times, and each day I keep waking up with a positive attitude that maybe today will be the day! Just to hear at the end of the day…go to this office, or come back tomorrow. I try not to let the expectations or words of “you will be done tomorrow,” get to me, but somehow they still do. I guess I have to take it back to the beginning of my time here and remember, “Akwata Empola Attuka Wala.”

A morning ride to church

Current Emotion: Inspired

I woke up today and felt like I was still in a dream. I stepped out of bed and the floor was COLD! Cold, like in the Northwest. Like Seattle! I got outside and there was a damp feeling in the air and a shivery chill ran up my spine with each gust of wind that hit my face. I will have to say this was the first time in a long time that I felt like I needed long-johns (thermals) in Uganda! I was too cold for comfort! Although I could have stayed in bed for hours, I am glad I mustered enough energy to get out of bed (after snoozing my alarm clock for 40 minutes of course).

Today one of my good friends, Byron, was preaching at a church in Nakawa. I really respect him and thought it would be a great experience hearing and seeing him lead a neighborhood congregation.

The church I typically go to is a Calvary Chapel church and the service appeals to a more western influenced crowd. I love Calvary Chapel church, but opening my heart to God feeding me in alternative place is always beautiful.  I am very grateful for the opportunity to sit with 250 men, women and children all of Ugandan descent. It was a very homey feeling. Everyone new the culture of the church; when to sit, when to stand, when to walk up for offering, when to walk up for communion. It was a much different feel that the church I am going to currently that has more of a transient feel.

Anyway, Byron shared about leadership and accepting criticism. This was the perfect content for me to hear today. He discussed how people are gifted with leadership but do not embrace their qualities out of fear of being to young, ill-equipped or lacking a certain resource. I have felt each of those emotions at some point in my life. Some more recently than others. It was great today to take a step back, reflect and see how far I ACTUALLY have come and how much I ACTUALLY have grown. It was the perfect encouragement for me to continue striving to reach my highest God-given potential.

Will blog about this soon…

http://matadornetwork.com/change/7-worst-international-aid-ideas/

Top Ten Best Boda Boda Experiences

Current Emotion: Amused.

So, if you don’t know what a boda boda is. It is a motorcycle. It is the rickshaw of Kampala. The skateboard of campus life. The L of Chicago.

It is my main mode of transportation in Kampala. It is fast, efficient and being on a boda allows you to maneuver through the busy traffic that can keep you stalled for hours.

Within the last 7 months I could probably tell a boda story for every day that I have been here. But to save time, I thought I would narrow it down to the TOP TEN BODA BODA EXPERIENCES.

10. Boda miscommunication: We say, “Okay ssebo (sir) it’s raining let’s go Pola Pola (slowly!).” He response, “Yes, I am very careless!” (confidently of course).

9. A boda driver at the  stage (waiting point) near my flat is known for being reckless. After months of choosing every Boda driver EXCEPT him, I think he caught on that I did not feel safe with him. (Not to mention, Natalie almost lost a foot with him once). Eventually he tried to compensate by daily condescending statements of, “I’m sorry…I am a pastor.”

8. Taking Ntinda’s local “pimp my ride” boda. Equipped with a sound system and built in rainbow umbrella.

7. It’s Christmas time. What better way to celebrate than to give my trusted boda friends a chicken. I go to the market and purchase two of the fattest chickens. I didn’t think that I would be holding them on our commute back to the office. Oh and did I mention they were live?

6. Turning a corner on our morning commute and all of a sudden Natalie flies off of the Boda and sticks the landing (she learned the best, Michelle Kwan)! Her purse of course flies in a different direction. Boda driver and Mary look back and wonder, “did we miss something?”

5. Gilbert (a young robust Boda driver, reminded Natalie and I of Anne of Green Gables). Daily we sang R Kelly, Brittney Spears and Celine Dion (by his request of course) on our morning commute to work.

4. Scott and Mary ride on a boda from Garden City to the office in the rain, okay pretty dangerous. Now, throw in faulty brakes. Horrible experience. We are in traffic, going DOWN HILL and the brakes give out. I begin grabbing random cars to try and keep us from peeling out. A curb stops us. We survive and remove ourselves from the boda promptly. We didn’t pay.

3. Scott, Mary, Natalie and Daniel (Boda driver). Four adults on ONE boda. Enough said.

2. Natalie and I, sitting side saddle in our ever so professional pencil skirts with our trusted driver. I am discussing my hairy legs with Natalie and lift up my leg (mid traffic of course) to give a visual. My foot hits a car and my shoe flies into the intersection. All I can think about is I am not going to find another set of black flats.

1. My roommate Natalie’s first weekend in Uganda and we are exploring Jinja by Boda. Our boda ends up at a random dock after a large down hill slope. At that doc there is NO civilization. Simply a few merchants and people who had never seen mzungu’s (foreigners) before. We re direct our Boda driver. He runs out of gas on the way up the hill. We get off and walk up Everest. There are no people in site, but there is a flock of goats following us.