I'm reposting this, because originally the video was set to private, which meant no one else could watch it. Sorry for those who tried to view it earlier. It should work now. *****
I hope Amy doesn't mind, but I'm posting a video of the kids in the village of Agirowas, learning the verse. Even after hearing it and trying to repeat it about 50 times, I still can't say it all. But for reference, amina is love, agogong is strength, Akuj is God, dadaang is all or everything...
According to the latest news reports, Karamoja should expect a decent harvest!
Tuesday, May 9th Today I nearly put "no akiru" as the subject of my email update, but it's just as well I wasn't too hasty - it did rain quite hard this afternoon. Having been without a hard rain for days, the sound of it on the roof was even nicer than usual.
I met Josephine's son Dennis today. [He was one of the schoolboys working during vacation to earn money.] I was going to bring the laundry in but looked at the clouds and couldn't decide on urgency, so I asked him (he was getting water from the faucet by the back door), expecting a simple answer. He told me I had some time - maybe 20 minutes. Then a bit later I head a "Hodi? Amanda" and he informed me that the rain was coming. He helped collect the laundry and then sure enough, just after I got inside, the rain started.
Wednesday Finally we've got a really good, hard rain. Tonight it was coming down so hard that Amy, Chrissie, and I got very wet just running to the Wrights' van. It was perfect for taking a shower in, except too darn cold.
So today Martha and I did a little work on the Karamojong songbook, which she's been editing. Reading through it got a lot of different songs stuck in my head - the tune at least, if I don't know enough of the words.
Father Lorenzo stopped by this afternoon and was asked to dinner. He's an Italian, with an Italian accent and sense of humor. [We were talking about how a good harvest is something to look forward to, and yet then everyone just uses the sorghum to make beer and get drunk. But the beer actually has more nutrients in it than just plain sorghum. What to do? "Ah," sighed Father Lorenzo. "Philosophy."]
Rachel and I made stir fry for dinner. It was fun bouncing ideas off each other and talking about The Village as we chopped vegetables. Then this evening she taught me a card game called Idiot, which did make me feel stupid (it's tricky) but was very fun. I was glad to have a hang out day with her.
On the way back, in Jinja I bought a copy of The East African - partly for a newspaper to read, but mostly because it had a picture of Bono, talking to some nurses in a hospital. He was gesturing, doing the big-picture Bono thing. I wonder what the people at the hospital thought? But it also seems Bono is real in how he deals with people; I think he wants to take some steps in their shoes, not just hand them a check. This doesn't all relate exactly to Karamoja, but the whole idea of Western aid and especially Western intervention has been on my mind. (I re-watched Hotel Rwanda last night with a friend. That'll get you thinking. What does our responsibility to our neightbor look like, when now the world is basically our neighbor?)
Anyway, Bono (the "biggest rock star in the world," lead singer for U2) has been passionate about Africa for much longer than I have, and even if I wouldn't agree with everything he says, he gives a lot to consider. I've got a lot of respect for him, and for aid organizations who are really serving people - not trying to enforce Western ideals of democracy, what, what, through their giving. (Unfortunately many NGOs are out of favor in Uganda right now because they were very vocal about not supporting Museveni when he ran for another term - it didn't seem democratic enough.)
Here are some quotes from Bono: in conversation with Michka Assayas:
There are lots of issues going on in Africa. It's complex. There's corruption, there are problems of their own making, but there are problems of our making for them, and then there're problems we could easily solve for them. [medicine for those with AIDS, for one thing.]
What is going on in Africa defies all concepts that we hold to be true: our concept of neighbor, our concept of civilization, our concept of equality, our concept of love...You can't have the benefits of globalization without some of the responsibilities.
It's a mind blowing concept that the God who created the Universe might be looking for company, a real relationship with people, but the thing that keeps me on my knees is the difference between Grace and Karma...
Look, the secular response to the Christ story always goes like this: he was a great prophet, obviously a very interesting guy, had a lot to stay along the lines of other great prophets, be they Elijah, Muhammand, Buddha, or Confucius. But actually Christ doesn't allow you that. He doesn't let you off the hook. Christ says: No. I'm not saying I'm a teacher, don't call me a teacher. I'm not saying I'm a prophet. I'm saying: 'I'm the Messiah.' I'm saying, "I am God incarnate.'" And the people say: No, no, please, just be a prophet...So what you're left with is either Christ was who He said He was - the Messiah - or a complete nutcase...The idea that the entire course of civilization for over half of the globe could have its fate changed and turned upside-down by a nutcase, for me, that's farfetched.
I'm already discovering the good that come of keeping a journal. Today I was reading the list of things I bought last month in Namalu, and remembered that I bought a packet of curry powder for 100 shillings (about 5 cents). Unfortunately I think I forgot to pack it, but while searching through my backpack I found the little bag of raw g-nuts (peanuts) I'd bought at the Star Mart in Jinja, on the trip out. They might be completely stale by this time, but I'll roast them up and see...
Wednesday, April 26th
There has been much rain again. Craig is having a hard time getting the plowing finished, because it pours in the mid-afternoon and the ground is still soggy enough in the morning to get the tractor stuck.
Before the rain came, Amy and I went to the place where Bob and his right-hand man, Lodim Thomas, are working on a bore hole. She drove her piki, which was fun.
Agirowas' (sp?) village, where we went to tell the parable of the banquet also, is a large ere, and the only one I've ever seen with a real corral in the middle. Naturally it smelled stronger than the other villages I'd been to. I prayed sincerely that God would not let me be overpowered by the smells! He answered my prayer very quickly. So we went to the house of Locabokale's wife and about 10 kids gathered to hear the story. I took pictures, but it was somehow dark inside so probably there is no way to capture their smiles - amazing, happy smiles when many of them have orangish hair from malnutrition. kids at the village of Agirowas
Amy had to be back for science class, so we made a dash through the rain and slick reddish mud. It was so slippery that it actually felt like skating as we went along. I'm glad neither of us fell! Kris had just been telling us at lunch how the rain brings out the parasite worms and amoebas. What to do?
Wednesday
Amy and I went to Agirowas' again. This time there was no rain so we sat outside on an old board next to a hut, and all the kids gathered around. Amy read the story of the Good Samaritan in Ngakarimojong from the Bible; I held the story book with pictures so they could see. She also taught them a verse complete with hand motions, which they enjoyed. ("'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'" Luke 10:27) They also liked posing for the camera, and I got a video clip of them saying the verse. Ejok nooi!
Friday
This morning Mary and Kipsy and I made bread for home ec., which meant a yummy lunch of bread and cheese. Then Amy and I went to Agirowas's and on the way back stopped at the church where some of the women were sorting greens after a day of weeding. Amy asked and was invited to tell the story again there, sitting on the dry dirt road in the shade, while the women worked and listened. They were mostly young; the one sitting across from me was mouthing the words of the storybook (the kind with big pictures and text written for kindergarteners), so I assume she's had some small schooling, although she didn't say anything aloud in English. She is the kind it would be good to have a literacy program for....
Martha emailed me this morning. Here's what she says about the raid:
Oh, please pray for the people of Nakaale - I know you do already, but this was a tough week for them! There was the one of the biggest cattle raids ever around here, a few miles away up in the mountains behind Tokora. All the Nakaale people had their cows up in the hills, & the Pokot from eastern Uganda came & took them. A couple of warriors were killed (maybe 3?), a few injured, & a couple of shepherd boys are missing now. Our workers Lokoroi & Patrick came here in the middle of the night, while the shooting was still going on, & asked Bob to call the commander in Nakapirit. He did, & the comm. said he'd send troops, but we don't know what he did - in any case, the cows are all gone. One or two got loose & wandered home, but that's about it. People are devastated. It's like the stockmarket crash of '29. So we've visited & consoled a few. One man who was killed is from Joyce/Rose's home, the father of a little girl called Sunday, the nephew of one of our church members. They're feeling very lost, so we went & talked & prayed with them some. I was encouraged by another worker Loumo Peter's comment yesterday, though, that," well, they were only cows; I look around & see my children, we're OK, so it's really not so bad. Things will get better eventually."
I hope I'll have that attitude if I ever lose a large part of my possessions. But if the cattle don't get taken back, and there are no real retaliations against the Pekot, could this perhaps change things a bit, as far as asking for many cows for the bride price, etc.?
Mary, Kipsy, and I did Bible class until 9 o'clock - they had a craft project putting the Old Testament books in order, and we were reading stories from their text book, and coloring pictures for Martha to use. Then Martha and I headed out into the field nearest the house, where Patrick [the weeding supervisor, who I'm guesing is around my age] had the weeders start.
Martha read the parable of the rich man's banquet (he invited his friends, but they all had some excuse; so he brought in the poor, the lame, the blind) using a Karamojong story book. Patrick translated when she needed assistance. I walked around holding the pictures so everyone got a look, which was a little tricky because there were about 50 people - mostly women but a few children - who wanted to see, and also I didn't understand what Martha was saying, so she had to tell me when to change pictures. It worked out well, though! Many of these are ones who don't come to church - there's no reason to if they're not believing in Christ, but how can they without hearing the gospel of God's grace?
As Martha and I were walking back, a women came running across the field and snatched her baby up while another woman hoed to death the snake had been just by this child. That was pretty scary. Martha says weeding is actually quite a dangerous job, because of the snakes.
I've been pessimistic about the disarmament, fearing that this would happen, as Chrissie describes in her last update:
last night there was a huge raid. the word is that the pokot came over from kenya--they all have their guns still, so they can easily take advantage of the people here who have already been disarmed. they came in shooting, and the people had no way to fight back. some came to bob and told him to call the army, so he called the commander and informed him. it's the commander's responsibility to protect the people since they have no way of defending themselves now--or at least an unfair way: bows and arrows are hardly a match for ak47s. the army came out to fight back, but five or six people were killed, more were injured, and all the cows were taken. a few cows came back, but the villages here have pretty much been devastated. the army is still pursuing the thieves, so there is hope that the cattle will be returned. if they aren't returned, it's likely that a retaliation will be organized. so that was pretty bad news. most of the workers didn't show up this morning to work with bob and craig; they were out on the hills looking for bodies. we shall see what tomorrow holds.
I often forget that the Karamojong warriors do this very same thing to the Pekot when they get the chance...it's just that these people are my friends, and I don't want them hurt. But it's good news that the army did indeed step in quickly to protect the village.
My prayers for safety for those in Karamoja have been slacking off lately; it's ever a pressing need, though, among many other things.
This afternoon Katie and Emily and Rachel had a lit. lesson in Chrissie's banda (I audited). It was very fun - we read the hilarious last scene in A Midsummer Night's Dream then had tea in real teacups Chrissie had got at Janam (groceries) and also snacked on muffins. Then we rehearsed our act from AMSND.
April 23rd
This afternoon it was too muddy - probably also too cold - for an afternoon worship service, so we got together in the courtyard instead, the missionaries and also Elizabeth and Kyalo [from the clinic] and baby Faith. They've started singing a lot of songs from Billings (or Pear Tree Music) since I was hear last, which is quite a cool experience...to be singing the likes of "Sanctus" in Africa, I mean. It made me suddenly look forward to heaven, where American and Karamojong will always be worshipping together.
On Friday I sat in on Anna and Bobby's Arabic lesson and learned a new word, ASHeer, juice. So you got any Middle Eastern juice containers that need read, I can read them. Really, it's impressive how much Bobby and Anna know. Martha thought this might be more fun than just giving them language arts type worksheets!
Other tidbits: I have only a curtain instead of a door to the bathroom in my room, because one day Joyce opened the door and it fell off. Termites had eaten it.
While we were eating chocolate mint ice cream last night, Andrea asked me if I'd written in my journal every day like she'd suggested, and I was thankful that yes, I had. (Last year I regretted not following her good advice.) Almost every day, at least. So between that and pictures and about a hundred things I didn't write down, there's enough material for a lot of blogging about Karamoja if I can make myself go a bit more slowy ("wadyo, wadyo").
Thursday, April 20th
After lunch (rice, beans, and cabbage) Amy and Rachel set off on the piki (motor bike) to teach a Bible story were Bob was drilling a bore hole. He forgot to tell them he wouldn't be there, though. So they came back and Craig told them he thought Bob had gone to Namalu. Martha said to take the van, so the three of us set out and found this other bore hill outside of Namalu. There were no children watching the work, but Amy asked one of the older men if we could go into the ere. He took us to his own home and gathered in his wife and kids for akilip (prayers). I didn't understand much of the conversations, because Amy and Rachel's Karamojong has gotten pretty good so they don't need a translator. Amy had just come up with the idea of photocopying the story from the Catholic Karamojong story Bible and sticking it on the back of the story picture cards, so she or anyone else can use it without a translator. It worked pretty well, and this family seemed very interested. But the whole story and Rachel's prayer afterward was under 10 minutes, because we were fearing we would get stuck on the road if we waited too long. So we dashed back through the mud and in pouring rain; the roads were slippery by that time, but Amy got us out. It was quite nice.
Sitting there in the house (which Amy and Rach say was an unusually nice one), listening to the story of the world's creation while watching rain coming down, seemed like it should have been a somehow profound experience. All I felt, though, was comfortable.
Also I should mention that there was a girl there with elephantitis; it was the first case I'd ever seen. Her feet were very swollen, with large warty-looking sores that the flies were crawling on. She was very serious, not smiling like the other children, but interested in what Amy said. [She looked persevering, I think; not like I might have in her body.]
Every school day the kids have PE class, which is possibly the favorite of a few and not so favorite of others. After stretching and so on, there's usually a game of (Ugandan) football, basketball, or baseball. Amy and Chrissie have come up with some creative ways to make PE fun, like "Wacky Hair Wednesday" or, when I was there, "Twin Tuesday" and "Bob Wright Day." All the Karamojong who work around the schoolhouse stopped and stared as we trooped into the yard wearing Bob's t-shirts (and shorts, in some cases). "You're going to return them tomorrow?" someone asked, making sure we weren't making off with all Bob's clothes. :)
I should confess here, though, that I only went to PE on special occasions...
I just watched this cool video of breadmaking in Pakistan. The Indian restaurants in Uganda serve bread like this, but how they actually make it in a street vendor sort of place is amazing!
Thursdays are village days. I only once this year; the other weeks I was sick or Al was sick or someone was sick, but finally I just decided to heck with this sick business. It was my last opportunity, and I didn't want to miss it. Thankfully, God kept me feeling somehow okay and I was able to enjoy myself.
Enjoy might be the wrong word, because Amy and I went visiting the sick at Lomo Peter's (his family has a grouping of huts separate from Joyce's, the main part of the village). The first woman we visited was so sick she was literally shaking with fever, while her skin was burning. She was lying down when we a couple of the old women brought us to see her; her baby was at her side so he could nurse. She seemed almost oblivious to everything. A couple times she shook him off and sat up leaning over her little fire, which was a foot away from her bed mat. Somehow she managed to take some snuff, though. I assume it couldn't make her feel any worse than she already was, though.
So we sat around, sitting on the dirt floor hugging our legs, much closer than new acquaintances usually sit in America, knee to knee and elbow to elbow. It was nice in a way I can't describe; just sitting there in the smoke, maybe doing some small talking, maybe just watching the poor woman (that part was not so nice. Amy said she should go the clinic in Namalu, but the woman's husband was gone and the family didn't want to spend the money yet). Then Amy asked if they wanted her to read, and they said yes, so she read from the Bible in Nakaramojong. One of the women helpfully tried to guess what she was going to say next, and tell her the correct way to say it before the words were out of her mouth. Only she wasn't a very good guesser. What to do?
Then we talked to a woman with chicken pox, apparently a rare disease there. She's the one who Amy's hired to do laundry for her; just a young wife. We saw her baby, the whites of whose eyes were literally green colored with infection. Then Amy held the niece of Lomo's wife, a new baby who is very fat and cute. She also peed all over Amy. Sorry for that! Then the kids complained because they wanted a Bible story, too, so Amy went to Lomo's and did one quickly with a group of about ten eager kids, while I held the baby, who was apparently done wetting for a while.
We walked back to Joyce's, where the kids' study was ending, but the singing was so loud we could hear it even as were approaching the village! There were jerricans being pounded, dancing, and much joy. Also several grownups who had had too much to drink but were enjoying the dancing anyway. (And I don't think it's easy to dance in Karamoja, especially drunk!) Joyce is the one with the yellow wrap around her waist. Perhaps I've said this before, but it can always be said again - she's one of my heroes.
I just finished Season Two of Lost this afternoon. Hito-kwi! When does next season start??
While I was in Karamoja, Chrissie got the Ts hooked on Lost. She had the whole first season burned on DVD, and somehow we got to talking about it and really thought everyone else would like it, too. Thanks to solar power and (somehow) sunny days, there's enough electricity at night to watch movies. Usually the families there only occasionally watch them, but I was very pleased to see that the Ts - Laurie and Katie, at least - had to watch at least a couple episodes every night. (My family had the same experience, so it's fun to see someone else enjoying it, too!) We had several blurry-eyed staying up late nights. And of course Chrissie and I also were watching them again, because you pick up a lot the second time, even if you occasionally fall asleep....
Since Fridays are going-to-Kopetatum days (along with early Sunday mornings), it seems like a good day to post about it. Today Katie taught the kids, and gave out a whole bottle of chewable vitamin "tum tums" to her half-clothed kids who could all say a Bible verse...and one kid got the big prize, the empty bottle, because he remembered what tribe Goliath was from - the Philistines!
There seem to be more flies buzzing around in Kopetatum, but also more kids. (Or are the two somehow related?) They also seem to remember things better than other kids. After the Bible story, singing, and praying, their favorite thing to do is lift up the tarp they were sitting on, waving it over their heads and yelling, and often singing as they help fold it.
They liked my camera; it has an oversize LCD display and so it's easy to show them pictures that they exclaim over and laugh at and point out each other in. (At first I was fearing it might mess them up culturely somehow, with something so new that I couldn't explain in Karamojong, but it seems to be okay - something to wonder over, but not weirding them out much!)
I had many exiting new experiences on the daytrip to Nakapiripirit, but I have to agree with Bobby that this one was pretty dang sweet. Gas prices are worse in Uganda, though.
The government has been stepping up the disarmament in Karamoja, which I hope will be successful in the long run. So far it's just meant trouble, though. In Tokora, one of the nearby towns, there was some fighting the day before I left. The army came in to get the guns, and the warriors said "over my dead body" - literally. It's odd to read about something that happened while I was there, but it was in the news. Anyway, it seems a big part of the problem is that the army has a lot of leeway in how they handle things in Karamoja, so if they decide to beat people up and even do some looting on the side, there's not much to stop them. Of course this doesn't happen everywhere, but the stories are bad, and people are fearing. The day the trouble started in Tokora, one of the askaris (the one I know best even though our coversations have been limited thanks to my lack of Karamojong) was in church, and then came to afternoon prayers, where he asked Al to pray about the disarmament. He hadn't been showing up much for a while before that.
Katie just informed us yesterday that the soldiers came to Agirowase's (spell?) village, just down the road. They beat up Al's translator, who is partially crippled, and hauled a bunch of men off to jail, apparently until they turned in their guns. Iriyama, who's an old man, got taken along too, although I'm sure he hasn't gone raiding in years. I bet he gave them trouble, though! Anyway, I'm thankful to hear that no one got seriously hurt, and the guns have been given up. At least some of them - I assume there are more hidden away somewhere. What to do? Kids at Agirowase's village
But then, this could be a start to relative peace in Karamoja...hearts will change "slowly by slowly," but in the meantime there will be less shooting your enemy to steal his cows (or shooting your brother, because you're drunk and ticked off).
The Saturday before I left, some of us took a little trip down to the district seat, Nakapiripirit. While Bob and the guys worked on finishing a 20-foot steel water tower for the new Resort Hotel, Martha, Amy, Chrissie, and I hung out in the restaurant. We ordered Cokes, which came in 500 ml bottles...none of us wanted to have to use the latrine, though, so we let the guys finish ours off. Martha thought the bare room we sat in was very restful - no stuff to clutter things. Just cool cement and open windows. Of course, then the drilling started. There were some doors and things that still needed to be put on. But it was nice.
Then we went outside and watched the work for a while. Actually, I helped Bobby collect Guiness bottle caps. They were a nice yellowish color. We snubbed the Bell lager caps, though.
After that some of us took a little excursion into the market, where we were in time to watch the parade for on of the official's swearing in (or just "swearing," as one of the local guys told us). His car had already passed by the time we got there, so we figured we'd be safe from assassaination attempts if we watched. The parade was incredible. I've never seen anything like it - a line of people marching toward you, singing, blowing whistles, jumping and dancing. It was very loud, very wild, very much what you hope a parade in Karamoja would be like!
Here's the video of it on youtube.com
After all that excitement, Amy, Chrissie, on of the other visitors (one of the W's friends from NJ), and I ate lunch at an African restaurant, where we ordered beans and posho. It was my first time eating posho, and I much enjoyed it. Posho is made of finely ground corn meal (I think) and cooked into a very thick paste. It's good dipped in beans.
We watched the other guys work for a while longer, then hopped in the back of Bob's truck and rode back home. On the way I asked, "Is that Tekora?" of one of the towns we were passing through. One of the schoolboys, Lokwi, told me no. It was Nairobi. So now I'm more of a world traveler than I thought.
Update 6/4/06: I'm adding a picture of one of the officials (not the one sworn in), looking very smart in his festival clothes. We met him at the restaurant, and he graciously posed for us.
After the parade
(oh, and note the jerrican speaker in the background!)
The day before, actually, Martha said "Hey, it's your last day. How would you like to be the Sunday School teacher?" Of course I said sure, but was a little anxious to go over the story first - the parable of the rich man who built bigger barns to store all his wealth, yet his life was demanded of him that very night (Luke 12:13-21). I'd heard it several times already that week...but all in Karamojong, because Amy and Martha could get by reading and discussing it in Karamojong. It was helpful to talk it over with Amy, though, because she had some good advice. For one thing, make it clear that it's okay to store up grain (many Karamojong don't, leaving nothing for reserve); the problem lay in the heart of the "rich fool" in the story, who wasn't trusting the one who gave him all these good things. Also, I'd need to explain what wheat was (in the picture book I used) - there's no grain like that around Nakaale!
Lomo (Lomo Paul?) was my translator; his English is somehow okay, good enough to translate for the kids as long as you're careful how you say things. Lomo is one of my favorite people. He always greets me with a hard handshake, and he loves to color with the kids after Sunday School. He's also one of the few men who faithfully takes an interest in the church. So I like having him translate, even if it's sometimes hard work for both of us.
Happy kid
Rachel W knows enough Karamojong now to lead the kids in learning a Bible verse (that part's tough when you don't read Karamojong very proficiently...like Lomo and I both), which was very helpful. These kids catch on super quick. Then they spent the last 10 minutes or so coloring. It's fun to watch them, some of them older girls, some of them shepherd boys who wear no clothes, all happily coloring their pictures, often being careful to stay in the lines and using matching colors.
At the end, Martha always passes out Flinstones vitamins, but calls them "tum-tums" (candy), which all the girls and most of the boys like. I saw some of the shepherd boys eying theirs with suspicion, though, and making faces when they got brave enough to try the vitamins!
***
I have some videos I'd like to post...could anyone help me out by recommending a program to use? I found a free flikr-like service called youtube.com that looks like it will work, but please let me know if you know of something better!
I spent a total of 18 weeks in South Karamoja, Uganda between 2004-2006; this blog is part travel journal and part Karamoja/Africa news. Uganda is a country in East Africa, slightly smaller than Wyoming and with a pop. of 22 million; Karamoja is on the eastern side. (See this map.)
Coffee is the major export crop. In Karamoja,
cattle are the measure of wealth; people also grow sorghum, beans, and peanuts.
Mini Glossary: ejok nooi - hello alakara - thank you alakara akalip - thank you for praying Akuj - God akiru - rain
Your comments are welcome - I would be glad to hear from you!
