A Week of Life and Death

This week has been a strange one, even by Ugandan standards. On Wednesday we went to the Rakai District, which is just over an hour away. We work with a number of families in the area, helping them with basic needs like mattresses, soap, pots and pans, etc., and so we try to visit the area every month or so.

On our way however, we were stopped at a police checkpoint. There are checkpoints all over the place in Uganda, where cars are stopped seemingly randomly, though I would assume that many taxi drivers have some sort of bribery agreement that lets them through. The police asked Adrian, the owner and driver of the car to get out and proceeded to take his license. We waited in the car, wondering why this checkpoint wasn't going quite as smoothly as hoped, we had an adequate number of seats per butt and the car was, on a whole, very nice. We got away with a 50,000 shilling (25$) fine after they first tried to pry off the license plates (unsuccessfully) and stared into the car for a while with their AK-47's (everyone seems to have those here). The fine was for having unsafe tires, which was completely made up.

So, we were on our way, cursing the extreme, blatant corruption of the Ugandan system. We arrived in the village and set out on foot down a muddy road to reach some of the other families. 15 minutes into it, we came upon a pig tied to a tree by the leg. A man came out as we walked by wielding a machete in one hand and grabbed the pig's ear. I quickly realized what was happening and turned my head and walked as fast as possible past the scene. I know that this pig lived and died a better life than the vast majority of pigs at home, but this was little comfort to me as I heard the thwacks and squeals. The pig butchering cast somewhat of a shadow on the rest of our walk. By the time we passed back by the area an hour or so later, he had been reduced to chunks and was being cooked over the fire.
We headed home feeling sour and jaded. I think we were all wondering exactly what we are doing here and to what end. We headed to bed after a depressing conversation about mob "justice" in Uganda.

This blog says that it's about life and death, and so far I have only covered the death part of that statement. The life side of things is this:

I woke up Friday morning and Scott, another volunteer, told me to come outside to see something. Praying that it wasn't anything beaten, dead or bloody I followed. The beautiful cow who lives next door had given birth during the night to a lovely little calf. He was only a few hours old and wobbly on his legs, but he looked healthy and happy, if not a little worried. I would be too.
This morning I was standing outside brushing my teeth when I noticed an unfamiliar black goat among the herd. A new baby bumbling around!


We have been watching this mom and baby closely as he didn't nurse for quite a while and his mother seemed utterly confused about what to do, maybe a bit aloof. Another volunteer and I ended up wetting the baby's appetite with a fingerful of milk on his gums and he has been attempting to nurse ever since. His mother still seems a little frigid, but I think they will be ok.

Public Transport

I just felt that this was necessarily the next blog that I write, due to the number of ridiculous rides that I've had in Uganda in the last couple of weeks. Most of the time here, we get around using public transportation, which consists of "taxis" ---minibuses, "shared taxis" ----sedans usually containing 6-11 people, or buses. Also, let me just say that I am fairly ok with the amount of person-cramming that goes on in african taxis and buses, it's all part of the experience.
However...there are times when I just can't get over the crazy situation that I've found myself in.

In the last two weeks riding in small, 5-person sedans I have:
- sat in the front seat with 2 other people
- bribed the cops (well, not me personally)
- sat in the back with 6 other adults and 1 child
- sat on a man's lap for 45 minutes in the back with my head against the roof with 6 other people
- run out of gas in the night and waited in the dark on side of the road for the driver to return
- pushed the car backward
- pushed the car forward
- and broken down twice
So I'm trying to tone down the number of times that I ride in this type of taxi, it's simply not comfortable to ride in the back of a small car with 6 other people, especially over the potholes. I suppose it's a good cultural learning experience (the first few times). Americans enjoy quite a large bubble of personal space, and it pops as soon as you land in Uganda. In the meantime I think I will use the lesser-crowded minibus taxis, where they (so far) have not made me sit on a strange man's lap.

Dancing and Drumming

Here is some video that I took during dance practice a couple of weeks ago. They are in the front yard of the house where I stay. The kids do drumming and dancing every week as part of their after-school activities. This time however they were practicing for a goodbye party for one of the long-standing volunteers here, and so they were especially pumped for their performance. I hope the sound works...

As you can see, Ugandans are pretty great dancers, even at a young age. They can shake it like what: