Hurry Up and Wait: Kenya Part III

Saturday was the day of Gitonga's wedding, I woke up early to make sure that I would be ready on time. I had arranged to call his Canadian friends to share a ride to the location of the wedding at 10. At around 9:50 I got a text message saying they had just got up and were running late. Having been left waiting a couple of other times I decided to get a cab on my own so I called Elijah who at picked me up from the bus station. He said he would be there at 11 as I had requested which was the time the wedding was supposed to start but I was trying to account for "African time" by arriving a few minutes late.

At 11 I went to the gate and Elijah did not appear. After waiting for 10 minutes I called him and he told me he was stuck in traffic but that he would be there soon. After another 10 minutes I called again and he told me that he was just around the corner and that he would be there soon. 10 minutes later I got fed up and was considering taking another cab when he finally arrived. At this point I was quite distressed as, while I concluded that the wedding would start late I thought that getting there an hour late might be too late. Nevertheless I got in the car and told him that I was going to the Kenya Water Institute and he assured me he knew where it was. After driving for about 20 minutes I started to wonder if he knew where he was going so I asked if we were almost there he assured me he did and it was right around the corner. We went around the corner, and then another and another and so I asked again and he assured me it was just around the next corner. 10 minutes later we were at the far end of the district we were supposed to be in so I asked again and so I told him I thought he didn't know where he was going so he should stop and asked for directions. He returned to the car looking confused and said that no one seemed to know where it was. So for the fourth time during the trip I repeated that I was going to the Kenya Water Institute to which he responded "Oh, the Kenya WATER Institute? I thought you said the Kenya Institue. I know where that is, that's back the way we came" so we started driving again and I called Gitonga's friend to get better directions. In the end we had to stop and ask for directions again and by the time we made it to the Kenya Water Institute it was 12:30. I was beside myself, I thought that I had missed the wedding that I had travelled all the way from Kampala to attend. I informed the driver that in the future if he cannot pick someone up on time he should not say that he will and that he needed to ask for clarification if he didn't know where he was going and I gave him less money than our negotiated price.

As I walked into the location there was a splattering of people present but the seats weren't even half full and there seemed to be a lot of set up going on. I leaned into someone and asked whether this was Gitonga's wedding and it was, and I hadn't missed it they were running late.

So I sat down and waited. After 30 minutes someone spoke over the microphone and said there was no problem and that they were just setting up and that the wedding would start soon. After 45 minutes Gitonga's friend who I had met the night before came to explain to me that the company that was providing the tents for the wedding had not shown up and that was why they were behind. after another 30 minutes someone again assured the crowd that the wedding would be starting soon. After 2.5 hours the wedding finally started, you could see the strain on the faces of the bride and groom. Incidently my new Canadian friend arrived just a the wedding was starting. Good timing.

The wedding itself was very lovely. The site was decorated in red and black with elaborate flower boquets and the wedding party had 5 bridesmaids and grooms men. The ceremony was led by a pastor from Winnie and Gitonga's church which discussed the origins of marriage in the bible starting from the creation story, which was a bit long. The said their vows, signed their marriage llicense and briefly absconded for photos while the guests were arranged for the lunch which was served at about 4:30. The lunch was very nice and again there was no matooke. During the meal I went to put my present on the gift table and Gitonga called me over after talking for a little while I leaned in and said "this is going to be my first law suit" referring to the problems with the wedding company.

Following the meal there were some traditional ceremonies. First the parents of Winnie and Gitonga each gave them gifts. Winnie was given all of the things she would need to be a "good wife" including a basket for fetching things from the market and a cooking basket. She also received advice from her aunties about how to be a good wife. Gitonga's parents gave them what we understood to be 100 acres of land which they said he could either cultivate or sell, but either way that's a pretty spectacular gift. This was followed by a bed making ceremony which is traditional in many parts of Kenya. Basically the Bride's family buys furnishing for the couple's new home including a bed and set it up like a house. The bride is responsible for making the bed (although in this case she didn't because of time constraints) and then the couple sit on the bed as well as couches for the first time as a married couple. This was a really interesting tradition to watch unfold. Following this the cake was cut and shared and we were on our way.

Later in the evening I was invited to attend an after-party for the wedding. I was invited for 8 so I arrived at 9:15 and of course it was another hour before anyone else arrived. It was at a very nice bar called Caribana which offered western style drinks, I had a strawberry daquri which was a different interpretation of the original but still delicious and much less expensive than the mixed drinks in Kampala. Of course the best part of the evening was getting to spend time with Winnie and Gitonga. I hadn't met Winnie before so I learned a lot about her and it was lovely to get to have the time to catch up with Gitonga. I wasn't sure if I was really going to have time to interact with him at all because of the pomp and circumstance that surround weddings.

On the Sunday of my trip I met the four Canadians I had met for breakfast at the mall. I decided to take it easy, bought three loaves of bread and did some walking and visited the apartment where the Canadians were staying. On the way back to Hibiscus I passed some children playing in the shade. A few steps later I heard footsteps and one of the little boys was standing next to me and asked if I could spare any food. Knowing I had three loaves of bread I offered part of one loaf to he and his friends, he thanked me very much. It was nice to be able to do that since I feel like I cannot in Kampala where the children who beg are being exploited. There are most likely exploited children in Nairobi as well but the request seemed like a spontaneous one rather than a coerced one.

Before leaving for the bus I had Ethiopian food for dinner which was great so I left happy. On the way out one of the guards stopped the car and basically asked if I was going to tip him. I declined remembering that it was inappropriate to tip in Uganda. Unfortunately I was later informed by my driver that Kenyans pretty much tip for everything which I was very upset to learn since I hadn't thought to tip any of the staff, but it was too late.

On the bus on the way back to Nairobi one of the attendants proposed marriage to me which was less than appreciated and a bit more direct than most Ugandans. You win some you lose some.

The Second Act: Contrast in Kenya

I woke up at 7 a.m. on Friday morning which was a bit of a miracle considering I had barely slept the night before and didn't take a nap. While eating breakfast I was joined by Marcel, the Dutch man working with Sieraden 4 Life, the NGO funding five schools in Kenya and running the beading workshop I was about to visit and Megan, the Canadian I met the night before who would be joining me on the excurssion to Kibera.

I was surprised how close Kibera was to the neighbourhood that I was staying in, in fact it was only about a five minute drive away. When we reached the Sieraden 4 Life workshop it was apparent that we were not actually in Kibera but on the outskirts. Even though it was only 8:30 when we arrived at the beading workshop about 50 women were already there. Our arrival interrupted their morning prayer to start off their day.

As I mentioned in yesterday's post the Sieraden 4 Life beading workshop employs 12 women full time, and up to 60 on a casual basis. All of the women who work there live in the Kibera slum and many of them have children enrolled in the schools that the organization funds. The women are paid to do the beading work which is then sold in retail chains in the Netherlands and the profits are used to support the schools.

As the ladies began to work Marcel explained that the women were working on knotting the leather bands that would be used to string the beads for the 25,000 bracelets that needed to be sent to the Netherlands the following evening. It was clear that the women were following a pattern on some cardboard. We were then taken upstair to see the room where the beads were kept and we were introduced to several people including Abdul who runs the Kenya Girls Soccer Academy, one of the schools funded by Sieraden 4 life, as well as supervising the beading workshop and a social worker who works with the women who work there on a regular basis. Marcel also showed us some sample bracelets which were on display in the upper level and we were invited to purchase some of the extra bracelets they had available. Of course we jumped at the chance.

After finalizing our purchases we returned downstairs where we were shown more rooms full of women beading and arranged for a tour of the Kibera slum. While we waited for our guide to arrive we sat down with some women who had moved with their work onto the sunny proch of the workshop. I sat with a woman named Rose who tried to teach me how to knot the leather bands they were working on. I got it on the second try but I could see what they were doing was tough work. Through her work Rose has been able to support her family that lives in the slum. After some pleasant conversation and photography our guide arrived to take us to see inside Kibera.

Being able to visit Sieraden 4 Life was a wonderful experience. It gave me a real sense of how a small NGO can sustain itself and support the community at the same time. Of course its practices are not perfect. The beadwork which is undertaken at the beading workshop is done based on designs produced by a Dutch woman in Nairobi. From a business perspective this makes sense, perhaps the designs developed by the Kenyan women would not appeal to consumers in the Netherlands. However from a women's empowerment and community development perspective, allowing the women to occassionally design necklaces or bracelets would give them an additional skill which they could then use to promote their own livelihoods. I was also distressed to learn that the workshop does not provide lunch for their employees. While I understand that the women are being paid, living in a slum as all of them do, implies that they may be spending their money in other manners such as feeding their children or buying clothing. Yet, despite those short comings I think the organization is having a very positive impact on the community. I saw Marcel again before I left and I asked him what happened to the women who were not able to bead as quickly as some of the others and he explained that there were many different levels of skill in the beading workshop but as long as the women wanted to be there they were happy to have them.

So we headed further into Kibera to see the slum. The Kibera slum is one of the largest slums in the World and is home to approximately 2 million people. In the slum there is no electricity and no sanitation which means there are streams of raw sewage which run down the sides of the road. Mountains of garbage are piled on either side of the train tracks which cut through the middle of the slum and we learned about many of the dangers which affect the inhabitants of the slum, where the average life span is only 30. That being said, being in the slum on a sunny Friday morning, most of the people we saw were going about their daily routines, walking along the train tracks, selling things either int he open sun or in the markets.

During our walk we stopped at the top of a hill with our guide Byrons who showed us a number of things in Kibera including the Doctor's Without Border's Clinic, the public washrooms which you had to pay to use and a stream where he used to play as a child but was now contaminated due to poor sanitation. He said that the sanitation situation had many impacts including giving rise to outbreaks of cholera, which if not kept under control can lead to excessive mortality rates.

We then continued our journey to the Kibera Girls Soccer Academy which is supported by Sieraden 4 Life where Byrons works as a teacher. Despite the fact that the school had closed for the holidays there were about 20 girls who were studying chemistry and physics. One girl told me how happy she was to study. Byrons explained that the girls continue to come to the school because it is often safer for them than remaining at home.The girls who attend the school are selected based on financial need, academic ability and in 10% of cases an interest and ability in playing soccer. Having recently returned from my trip to Kasese I asked Byrons about the issue of child-motherhood at the school. He explained that initially when the school started about 10% of the girls became pregnant within the first three months. Realizing that this would mean that the school would lose a large percentage of its students every year the staff did some research as to what was causing the girls to have sex. One of the key factors was for the girls to gain access to basic materials in exchange for sex, such as sanitary napkins and food. In response the school has made sanitary napkins available free of charge and they have a lunch program and are looking at starting a breakfast program. They are also looking into building a dormatory so that the girls who want to can stay by the school so they don't have to face the dangers of the slum on their way to and from school. I was also pleased to learn that some of the girls have an opportunity to go to University. Being in the slum, where only 8% of children get to go to school really raised the question for me of how much un-recognized potential there must be not only in Kibera but throughout the world, where even if a child is lucky enough to go to school that they may not have the resources, be their financial or personal, to progress beyond primary education. How many great scientists, peace-builders, artists and teacher must there be living in these slums while at home back in Canada we are concerned about the price of lattes and designer electronic devices. Enough said.

Now for the contrast. Upon leaving the Kibera slum we headed directly for the David Sheldrake Wildlife trust where we saw 7 orphaned baby elephants eat their lunch. The elephants were 18 to 27 months old and certainly had a lot of personality. One of the keepers described how they did a llot to keep the elephants happy including playing soccer and hide and seek with them.

After seeing the elephants we moved on to a Giraffe Sanctuary where we were able to feed Giraffes. Megan opted to feed one pelet to a giraffe from her mouth so that she could get a kiss but the saliva on my hand was enough for me. We fed quite a friendly giraffe whose name was Laura. There were two other giraffes close by who would head-butt you if you didn't feed them.

Finally it was time to feed ourselves so we headed back to the Artscafe where we had eaten the night before. The mall is truly remarkable. Unlike in Kampala where shopping centers are basically glorified, multi-level strip malls, Junction is a mall with all of the fixings. It has shoe stores, designer clothing stores, electronic and souvenir shops and even a starbucks style coffee shop. I have to say that not only was the mall a bit of a shock in contrast to Kibera but it was also a contrast to life in Kampala. Made me think that I might have a touch of trouble readjusting when I go home.

To end the day we attended the International Jurist of the Year Award at the International Justice Commission where Josh and Gitonga work. It was a very lavish affair with several high profile guests. The award recipient was a judge who has been presiding over the trials of the individuals involved in the post-election violence in Kenya in 2007. I have to say the food at the dinner really made my day. Beyond its superb quality, I discovered that Kenyans do not eat Matooke which is what has really turned me off from Ugandan food. Although it is by no means the only or primary option, Kenyans instead eat this mash of potatoes, green vegetables, corn and beef which is absolutely delicious.

So there you have the full spectrum of Nairobi one of the world's largest slums just blocks away from living the high life.

In tomorrow's post I will reflect on the wedding and my last day in Kenya. (I warned you that I had a lot to say.

Kenya: A three part Harmony. Part I

I had a fantastic time in Kenya and I experienced a lot in my 4 days there. I've decided in order to make my blog posts more readable and shorten the amount of time it takes me to write them, I am going to write about Kenya over three blog posts, and then I'm going to write a post complaining about the Canadian government. You've been warned.

It all started two years ago in a little town called Pretoria South Africa. I was a fresh faced graduate student and Gitonga was an intern when we met at the Institute for Security Studies and we developed a friendship that we would try to continue over facebook. Never would I have imagined that I would be in East Africa at the time of his wedding, no less be invited. But there I was on December 7th heading to Nairobi.

On the way to Nairobi I took the overnight bus from Kampala. Queen's Coach is a luxury bus line which means they have hairconditioning and seats that recline (no washrooms though). They also feed you snacks of highly fatty cookies, orange pop and coffee which seems questionable in the middle of the night. I was relieved when I had no problems at the border.

I arrived in Nairobi at 9 in the morning and headed straight for the Hibiscus guest house where I had booke a room. It was close by to a place Gitonga had reccommended although $15 less per night and actually had better reviews. I have to say it really did live up to its reputation. The staff were very friendly, the rooms were clean, it had beautiful gardens and mattresses on the bed that actually had springs (this is not common in East Africa).

After settling in I decided that it was time for an adventure and so I called the cab driver who dropped me off and asked him to take me to the Kenyan National Museum. The National Museum is on hilly grounds surrounded by trees and statues. It contains a detailed history of Kenya, a hall of mamals and art exhibits. I think the highlight of the of the museum were the skulls of early hominids on display behind some glass doors which I had seen pictures of in my 2nd African History Course at Carleton. After walking through the museum for about 2 hours I sat down and had a coffee and a chicken pie. Black coffee is a bit less expensive in Kenya than in Uganda and of a somewhat higher quality. I was happy.

After walking through the gardens around the museum and checking out Nature Kenya I decided to walk to downtown Nairobi. When I asked the security guard at the gate directions he responded "No, no it's too far it will take you too long" and I asked how far it was and he said "It would take YOU 2 hours." So I asked him how long it would take him and he said "1 hour" in the end it took me 30 minutes including a stop at the Masai Market. When I visited the Masai market I didn't fully have my bearings as I was quite over tired and also trying to ajust to the prices (one Kenyan shilling is 28 Uganda shillings which is 1.1 dollars) and so I was ripped of on the first item I bought and then bought a similar item from a different stall for a sixth of the cost. Oh well you win some you lose some.

On the way to the center of town I met a young woman coming from the University of Nairobi who helped me cross the street. There are more traffic lights in Nairobi but its harder to get across the road because there are more lanes of traffic. After explaining that she was a highschool English Literature teacher she told me she was doing a Masters in International Studies. When I asked why she said she wanted to be an ambassador, but not one working for the government. She told me she was a poet and that she wanted to travel around the world and tell people about life in Kenya and talk about its richness in contrast with its poverty (no pun intended) and everything in between. This was the first of quite a few inspiring conversations I had in Kenya, and to be honest I needed the inspiration. She then delivered me to my bus, which of course got stuck in a traffic jam, some things are the same everywhere in Africa.

When I got back to the hotel I read and used the internet in the guest house's sitting room. While I was there a middle aged Dutch man named Marcel came in. We spoke about what each of us was doing in Nairobi and as it turned out Marcel was helping to run a development project in the Kibera slum which was helping to fund five schools and was employing 12 women on a regular basis (and 60 on a casual basis) to make jewellery which they were selling in the Netherlands (at major chains such as Hema where I bought a set of bright orange plastic dishes 5 years ago which are with me in Kampala) and other department stores. They were working on an order for a shipment of 75,000 bracelets and under a lot of time pressure because the beads had not yet arrived and the order was due two days later. After asking some pointed questions about the nature of his work I decided to go out on a limb and asked if I could visit the project the next day, and to my surprise he said yes! We agreed to meet the next morning.

Later that evening I had the opportunity to meet with 3 more CIDA interns for dinner. They were all lawyers, two were working in Nairobi (Josh was working with Gitonga which is how we met) and one was working in Tanzania. We had dinner at a place called artscafe which was somewhat surreal. It was located in a large, western style mall. It boasted three kinds of sugar (okay one of them was sweet and low) and a very modern interior, and jazz music played over the speakers, quite a change from Kampala. During the conversation the visitor from Tanzania indicated that she wanted to go to an elephant orphanage where we could see baby elephants eat their lunch. I asked her if I could come too and she said yes. She then went on to talk about the other adventures she was interested in having in Nairobi and talked about wanting to visit the Kibera slum, and so I told her about my plans the next day and invited her to come along too.

My first impression of Kenya was that it is much more developed than Uganda. There are more paved roads with fewer potholes. There were apparent, strong anti-corruption laws which were highlighted throughout the city. There were much larger buildings and the city was bigger as a whole. No one warned me when I packed for Kenya that it was going to be cold and although the weather was sunny and the perfect temperature during the day time I found myself quite chilled at night. The other thing that I found quite remarkable was that there was a lot less dust in Nairobi, in fact unlike in Uganda I was actually able to get my feet fully clean when I washed them.

That's the end of the first chapter. Stay tuned tomorrow for the next!

The Long Awaited Kasese Post

So there's been a lot going on in my life recently, some of it good, some of it bad, most of it making it hard to find time to Blog. Obviously when I travel I spend a lot of time away from my computer so that doesn't help but there are some other things too. Work has been a bit hectic with a few deadlines coming up and mounting stress about how I am going to get it all done when I leave in April, if I leave in April. On the side I have been preparing applications for a PhD program in Canada that I'm interested in as well as the Parliamentary Internship Program. In addition, things have been rocky on the friendship front; two of my friends are leaving for home permanently this week and last week one of my friends was in a very bad accident in Ottawa which has certainly been preoccupying and that's all on top of my normal stuff.

Anyway here I am now writing to you about Kasese
.

I traveled to Kasese on November 27th with two staff members of the Center for Conflict Resolution with whom I have been working on conflict-sensitivity training courses with the UCA. It is a long drive from Kampala to Kasese, about 6 hours through winding hills. Two things surprised me during the drive. The first was that several of the hills were covered with Evergreen trees. I was informed that these were of course not native to the area but the government had decided that it was a "good idea to plant them there". The second thing that surprised me was that while going through the Kabale forest we came upon 6 Baboons on the road. These were the first monkeys that I saw since arriving in Uganda and I ended up being even more surprised when we found one on the road again on our way back.

Upon arriving in Kasese we checked into our guesthouse called "The White House" it was a clean place with standard African rooms (a bed with a mosquito net, a chair and a table) and a restaurant which was reasonable serving African food. The first night I was in town I met a fellow Canadian at the guest house who invited me to join her for dinner. We had chicken curry which I must say was surprisingly spicy for African food. Sadly I went to bed that night with a pounding headache.

Monday I woke up feeling much refreshed. I was a bit
anxious as the women from CECORE turned in the opposite direction of the Peace Expo which was the purpose of my trip and started heading to local offices to try to drop off my reports. I was particularly anxious because the day was starting with a peace march which I did not want to miss. Fortunately, African time saved the day and despite arriving an hour late we still made it in plenty of time for the march.

Near the beginning of the expo an official announced that the tents to the left of the stage were reserved for child-mothers (mothers under the age of 18). I stared in disbelief there were at least two hundred young women with their children there and they were all from Kasese. Later in the event we would learn that there were over 3000 child-mothers in Kasese alone. The main reasons for this trend were listed as poverty, conflict, cultural practices and gender based violence. Further we learned about many of the challenges facing the mothers including early marriage, abandonment by their families, difficulties finishing high school and accessing medical treatment and a lack of livelihood options.

The Peace Expo was focused on eliminating sexual and gender based violence throughout Uganda as well as reducing the number of Child Mothers in Kasese. At the beginning of the expo we all received bright pink shirts with messages like "Be the Change you want to see in the World, stop child marriages" which everyone put on so when we set off on our peace march we were surrounded by a sea of pink. I was surprised to see many of the local people in Kasese came out to watch the march although none chose to join the group and attend the expo which was free. My greatest concern about the expo was the fact that the majority of participants were either working for a peacebuilding organization or members of local government. There were very few community members and almost no men who of course would also be important recipients for the topics we were discussing.

Nevertheless, the Peace Expo was very informative. The first day speeches were given by the organizers as well as the members of local government in attendance and the second day we heard from several child mothers as well individuals with expert knowledge of sexual and gender based violence. The speeches were interspersed with cultural performance by elementary and high schools related to Gender Based Violence.

I also enjoyed the different craft tables that were set up by various community peacebuilding organizations which gave me the opportunity to meet with women from many different communities. I was able to make contact with some organizations working in the communities I will be visiting. I also had a particularly meaningful conversation with a group of women from Kitgum in the far North who were part of a group of women living with HIV (or living positively as the the Ugandans put it. Two of the women described how they became infected, one from her husband in whom the disease is dormant and the other who contracted the virus when her husband took a second wife because she had produced six girl children and no boys.

On Tuesday, the second day of the Expo, something rather remarkable happened. Three organizations including the Center for Conflict Resolution launched reports which were affirmed by the deputy-Prime Minister of the Rwenzori Kingdom, as part of her speech she invited all of the foreign delegates attending the conference to join her on stage including, much to my surprise, me! All of the people who were on the stage were asked to take an oath that they would help to reduce Gender Based Violence in their home communities and were given a copy of one of the reports by a local government representative. Mine was delivered by the Mayor of Lira which was neat because that is one of the districts that I will be conducting my fieldwork in early next year.

On the side I also enjoyed interacting with the local people who I met. One of the staff members at the White House was intrigued to see me writing post cards to people, it seemed she had never seen one before. Further, I found the people of Kasese a bit less aggressive than those in Kampala so I heard a lot less "Muzungu How are you?" I also was not hit on for the entire trip which was something of a relief.

We left Wednesday morning although the expo ran until the end of the day Thursday. On the way back we stopped several times again to drop off reports. This time I took the opportunity to get out and walk around. In one small district during my walk from a distance I saw a family with several small children so I decided to approach. As I got close the three smallest children started screaming and ran for their mothers. Apparently they had never seen a muzungu before. The older children and father greeted me with curiosity, they spoke not English.

On the way back we stopped at several vegetable markets and I purchased the best sweet bananas I've had since arriving.

Anyway Off to Nairobi tonight, expect more updates soon! Enjoy the pictures!

How I learned the Word "Bonga"

Two Sunday ago I at a lot. I started my day at a trendy cafe followed quickly by a delicious Ethiopian lunch. I had been feeling a bit like going to a salsa lesson but decided I preferred to stay closer to home. I knew there was a slum down the street with a market and the weather was nice so I decided to take a walk. Approximately twenty steps into the slum I was surrounded by 20 very excited children all asking "Muzungu! How are you?" (Muzungu means white person in Swahili). Almost every child in Uganda knows this phrase as well as "I am fine" even if they speak no other English. I would soon discover that this was the case for most of the children who were crowding around me. After a few failed attempts at communication I decided I would continue my walk. To my surprise the children decided to walk with me, grasping for both of my hands. I can't imagine how ridiculous it must have looked to the local adults to see a blonde mzungu walk down the street with so many children around them. After heading back on my walk I stopped near the exit of the slum and wasn't sure what to do with the kids. First I spoke with the ones who understood English and then proceeded to highfive most of them. I then danced a little bit which didn't seem as popular. So I did what I always do when everything else fails, I fist bumped (props) them. Immediately they all excitedly screamed "Bonga!" As I walked away some of the older children prevented the younger ones from leaving the slum with me. And that's how I learned the word Bonga

Note I assume Bonga is either swahili or Lugandan, no sure which.

Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

Another reason to hate Boda Bodas.

Last night at 8:30 my friends and I departed from Kabalagala where we had just finished having dinner. We were running a bit late for a concert we were hoping to see and my two German friends got on one boda and my Congolese friend (Joseph) and I got on another. The concert we were supposed to be attending was in an area called Lugogo which you have to pass through an industrial area to get to.

Driving through the industrial area everything was going swimmingly until I noticed something out of the corner of my eye and Joseph reached over and tapped the driver on the shoulder and told him to stop, as two police officers encroached on us. They walked around the Boda, examining us as they went, there riffles perched over their shoulders, not at the ready but close enough to make you feel uncomfortable. I stood silently and observed. I wasn't sure whether we had committed a traffic violation but I suspected they had not. Joseph suggested I stand a bit farther down on the sidewalk which I did feeling quite uncomfortable in the poorly lit area by the train tracks. First the officers spoke to Joseph, then they spoke to the driver and then we waited. After about 10 minutes a group of women on their way home from factory jobs passed and stopped to talk to me. The interchange was pleasant, they asked if everything was alright I said yes. Then the boda driver flagged another boda driver down there was some sort of interchange and then Joseph asked "and now can we be on our way?" and the police officers grumbled as we got back on the bike.

What had happened was the police had stopped us to request money. When they asked Joseph if he had any money he lied and said he didn't and then they asked the boda driver for 4000 Ugandan shillings and in the end he produced 1000, or approximately 40 cents. I'm not really sure why the police officers never addressed me or asked me for money but I'm glad they didn't.

It's obvious that the situation could have been much worse and of course for the second time this week the character of the police here is brought into question. It is of course possible that these police officers were off-duty or were perhaps not police officers at all, but I hope that I don't meet any more.

Once we got there we discovered that we had missed the concert.

Kampala is Burning... In the Dark

Since I've been in Uganda I have experienced many power outages and so far the most valuable thing I brought with me from Canada has proven to be a strong flashlight from MEC which converts into a small lamp. The power outages have mostly stopped at home but remain frequent during the day at work in down town Kampala. Generally they last about six hours, luckily we have a back up generator which covers our needs most of the time. Neighbouring businesses are not quite as lucky.

I am told that the cause of the power cuts is the recent privatization of the only electricity company here which has been selling electricity to Rwanda, not leaving enough from Uganda.

This morning on the way to work I noticed that the roads were a bit quieter than usual but didn't think much of it. When I arrived at work the power was still out after going out yesterday morning which is a lot longer than the standard six hour outages. Finally, when I reached my office my colleague anxiously asked me if I had seen the riots on the way to work. I was surprised as the roads had seemed to be so quiet. We looked out the window of our office to see people lining the streets, although not in large numbers. Farther down you could see that something (probably garbage) was burning and there were more people. But it was peaceful.

After watching for about 2 minutes all of a sudden the people who were lining the streets started running into store fronts. Tear gas. When I asked my colleague in disbelief why they would use tear gas when the protest was so peaceful (people weren't even chanting) she explained that they always used tear gas at protests and sometimes used pink water which she described as a skin irritant. Slowly people made their way back to the street. A few minutes later about ten police officers walked down the street who were jeered at by protesters, followed by a police truck (pick up truck with seats in the rear) with the police firing their guns into the air. Certainly an excessive display of force. The truck was then followed by an armoured vehicle with an automatic weapon perched on top. At this point the power had been restored. We waited. Nothing happened, and gradually the crowd started to disperse. There were not injuries in our area but its hard to know what happened farther down the street where there were more people gathered.

This demonstrates the dangers of having only one privatized electricity provider for a large city but it also highlights the government's crackdown on freedom of association. My colleague said there were also riots in May when the leader of the official opposition was arrested because he was considered to be a "security threat."

If you would like to read more about restrictions on the freedom of assembly in Uganda: http://www.amnesty.org/en/library/info/AFR59/016/2011/en

I initially posted this at 12:30 pm local time. At lunch as I was leaving the building to pick up a salad the power went out again. As I walked the block to where I buy salad I could see the riots starting again but I thought that I would be safe because I was inside. After receiving my salad there was a loud bang and then a distinct smell and then my throat started to burn. The building had been tear gassed. The lights then went out and we were left in the dark holding our noses. Fortunately the owner of the cafe walked me back to the office where I discovered a fire had been lit on the street immediately behind. I'm fine but my throat is really irritated.

The Politics of Remembrance

It's Remembrance Day, and every year on this day, I take the opportunity to write about Peace.

In Canada today, perhaps as well as in other places around the World, televisions will show live broadcasts of Remembrance Day Ceremonies, some provinces will have the day off work and most people will wear poppies. But who and what are we remembering?

Traditionally Remembrance Day marks the end of the first World War and reminds us again of the violence and the excessive loss of life associated with World War II. We pay tribute to our soldiers for protecting our freedom, and no doubt securing a political and economic environment which allows us to live in the comfort we do today. Increasingly we are also asked to remember the sacrifices have made in other wars, including the war in Afghanistan. We think about soldiers.

We also sometimes think about civilians. Particularly of those killed as part of the Holocaust, because in Canada we have never been the direct victims of an attack either through war or terrorism, so remembrance day only provides with an opportunity to remember those that die in service and those civilians who have died in politically relevant conflicts, where we helped to save them and the "good guys" won.

Yet, we rarely think about the civilians who have been killed in Afghanistan or in Somalia where our interventions have partially successful at best. The victims of these conflicts are not only collateral damage but they are family and community members worth no less than anyone else on this planet. It is also important to remember that even the soldiers on the other side of these conflicts are no different from our own even when their ideologies may disagree with ours, these soldiers still fight for a country they believe in and also leave families behind when they are killed.

More worrying still, on Remembrance Day no one ever speaks of the millions of people who have lost their lives through genocide and crimes against humanity. Or the people who continue to struggle to survive under repressive regimes.

In the freedom that our soldiers fought and died for we failed to stop the Rwandan Genocide and war crimes in Sudan, we continue to fail to stop the rape and murder of women and men in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and we are making little effort to remedy the global conditions which allow these atrocities to develop and persist.

So today ask yourself, who are you remembering?

Halloween and Eid

After experiencing utter disappointment over Halloween in South Africa, when my friends and room mates refused to celebrate with me, my expectations for Uganda were incredibly low. However, a week before Halloween arrived I made a new friend from Germany named Bettina who was keen to experience her first Halloween and as it turned out so were a number of other people. So, on Oct 29th I brought together a small group of friends, made candy and grasshoppers available and we all dressed up in costumes. The highlight of my night was that everyone who was there let me paint their faces which was really exciting.

The following night I attended a larger Halloween dance party with many of the same friends and once again painted faces and enjoyed dancing with the different characters that turned up, although I wasn't a fan of the man who showed up as a rape victim (which he chose because he was told he needed to be something scary).

I was a fairy for Halloween which was a rip-off of my pixie costume from two years ago, but at least I had something.

On a completely different festive note, last weekend was Eid. Uganda has a fairly large muslim population including my Turkish neighbour who at sunset gave our gatekeeper, Peter, and entire cow's worth of beef and its head. Imagine my surprise when I came home to find a cow head in my front yard. Peter insisted on sharing some of his beef bounty with me and provided about 5kgs of meat, still attached to the bone. In a bizarre twist of fate we had a couch surfer from Equador staying with us that was able to separate the meat from the fat and bone. Without her I might have been lost. Now I won't need to buy steak for the rest of my trip :).

Pictures to follow

Culturally Shocking

I have been in Uganda for over a month now and I haven't written in a while so I think it's worth noting some things which have shocked me over the last month or so about Ugandan culture.

Boda Bodas and their drivers:

If you follow me on facebook, you may have noticed that I often complain about Boda Bodas. What is a boda boda? it's basically a cheap motorcycle with a foam pad behind the driver's seat for up to two adult passengers, or as many as five child passengers. Why any parent would send their children to school alone on a boda boda is beyond me, but it seems to be normal in my neighbourhood.

For the firs week I was in Kampala I outright refused to take boda bodas anywhere, opting instead for mini-buses (called Matatus or taxis) or a special hire (canadian taxi). The reason for my fear of Boda Bodas arose both from the reports that Boda drivers are often reckless and that many people are injured or killed in accidents every day and because Boda Boda drivers occassionally rob their riders particularly at night.

However, taking special hires eventually got too expensive so I started taking Boda Bodas. Initially I pretty much though I was going to die every time I took a Boda and insisted the drivers go very slowly. I then got my helmet, and continued to insist on going slowly. Unfortunately on one Sunday afternoon I got a Boda driver who I can only assume was drunk, who wasn't avoiding any of the bumps in the road and eventually hit a patch which caused the engine to stall and the bike to fall to one side and then the other. I was okay, but shaken and didn't continue with that driver.

Then about a week and a half later my friend caught a Boda from outside of a bank in the evening and he was robbed at knife point and lost everything he was carrying, including his jacket.

Yet, it's hard to get around without them. I've started to only take Bodas from stages where they pay to park which is somewhat of a guarantee that they aren't drunk, have good driving skills and won't rob you; yet because I'm a muzungu (white) the boda drivers at the stage are more likely to try to rip me off. So you can't really win. So transport is definitely a major frustration.

Road Conditions:

Coming to Uganda I was expecting a combination of paved and dirt roads, which is infact what they have here but many of the roads, paved or otherwise, are full of large potholes. These aren't your average Canadian pot holes either, many of them are about 50 cm deep. This of course doesn't help my fear of bodas. Oh well at least I haven't fallen in one yet.

If the pot holes aren't enough to deter you from walking, traffic might be. There are very few traffic lights which means if you have to cross the street you are probably jay walking on busy streets and cars generally won't stop, it's like being stuck in a perpetual game of frogger.

Child Exploitation

One thing that I'm really having trouble with in Kampala is the child beggars who line the streets close to where I work and are there both day and night. The smallest children sit silently and without moving without their hands out in their laps. I find this particularly disturbing since the early years are so important to a child's development. The slightly older kids are often more mobile, following adults on the street, sometimes grasping their arms saying "please, please". What's even sadder than the fact that there are children begging on the street is that most if not all are being exploited either by their parents or by a trafficker who has purchased them for the purpose of begging.

I often find myself wondering what the future could possibly hold for these poor children.

Visa issues:

you've already read about them. A couple of people have suggested that the officials were maybe looking for bribes but I always kind of assumed that someone would ask if they really wanted one.

Homophobia:

It's widely known that a member of Ugandan Parliament has brought forward legislation on more than one occasion to make homo sexuality punishable by death, which should shed some light on my next story. On my Birthday I attended a meeting at the UN Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights. Some of the attendees had come from a legal organization and were specializing on the rights of sexual-minorities. I was discussing their work with one of the young women in attendance when she abruptly stopped and asked if we could discuss it more later. Later she explained that there were members of the media in the room and that she was concerned about what they might do with the information she was sharing. It seems the problem extends beyond homophobia.

Arts culture:

Arriving in Uganda I wasn't expecting there to be too much of an arts culture but I have been pleasantly surprised. It seems that basically every night there is an opportunity to attend a dance lesson or concert, many of which take place at the national theater. Great places to make new friends.


Anyway, that's it for now. Up next read my reports on Halloween and Eid.

Visa Problems

So last Thursday I arrived at the Ugandan Ministry of Internal Affairs with a letter in hand explaining that I would be working here as a volunteer. I was frustrated when I was given a list of more than 6 documents I would have to present in order to obtain a volunteer permit. I was told that the Ugandan embassy in Canada had issued the wrong visa, that I had been volunteering illegally for a whole month and that I would have to return to Canada to get a criminal records check.

Through some quick thinking I managed to gather all of the documents including a scanned copy of my criminal records check and returned to the ministry of internal affairs at about 11 today. Thinking it would take about an hour to get through, I planned to go home and rest for the remainder of the afternoon as I have a fairly severe throat infection which is not clearing up. Well first when I got there I had to wait for 30 minutes for the person who was assisting me with my case. Then once it was clear that I had all of the documents I was sent to the visa desk where a very surely woman (who previously threatened to deport me) started suggesting that I would need to provide a bank statement for UCA, which was of course indicated nowhere in the list of documents. So after processing requests of 5 other people she showed my file to her supervisor who went back to the assistant immigration commissioner who had been the person who was assisting me and we sat and talked about it and they decided that it would be better to issue me a special pass since UCA wasn't an NGO but a corporation. The excruciatingly frustrating part about this was that I didn't need any of the documentation which I spent days compiling for the special pass.

Nevertheless the sent me on my way to the casheir, who promptly informed me they had just closed for lunch and that I should return in an hour. During my hour wait I was pontificated to by a born again christian and then had to stand in line for 20 minutes at the cashier. Once at the cashier's post I turned over the documentation and tried to pay at which point I was informed that I would have to come back tomorrow because they needed to assess my fee and that I would have to go to a bank, which is not near by to internal affairs to pay the balance and return with the receipt. At this point I lost my cool and exclaimed that I had already been there for three hours and so they agreed to do the assessment then but I had to wait another 45 minutes.

Once I was given the assessment the teller explained that I would have to return with the receipt, have it verified, submit my application some new official and then return for it two business days later.

That of course wasn't the end of it, I then had to take a Boda Boda to the bank where I waited 45 minutes to exchange the american dollars I had taken out of the bank to pay the fee for the visa, its price is listed in American dollars, and then stood in line again to pay the fee.

I ended up getting home at the same time I would most nights, and now the power is out. Of course.

Tip of the Iceberg

So I had started to write a post which was a laundry list of things I wanted to talk about but I decided that it's probably better to stay focused.

I know I jump around enough that it's difficult to keep track of what exactly it is that I'm doing.

The Basics:

My title is Peace and Conflict officer and I'm working with the Ugandan Cooperative Alliance. My position is supported by the Canadian Cooperative Association and is a CIDA internship. I have been applying to CIDA internships for three years, it turns out that you need to be out of school to do one, and this is the first time that I have been out of school long enough to do one.

So what exactly is a cooperative, you might ask:

Cooperatives are self-governing groups of business which are democratic and have open membership. In Uganda there are three types of cooperatives: Credit Unions (or SACCOS), Area Cooperative Enterprises (ACEs) and Rural Production Enterprises (RPOs).

You probably already know what credit unions do so I'll skip it. RPOs are groups of farmers who come together to pool their resources in order to run more effectively. So for example cooperative members might pool their money to buy a tractor which they couldn't afford on their own, and then share the use of the tractor, they might also come together for training and value addition. Area cooperative enterprises are responsible for marketing of goods so for example they dry, package and label pineapples. All three groups support eachother and fall under the guidance and management of the Ugandan Cooperative Alliance.

Where I come in:

You may or may not know but Uganda has a fairly conflict ridden past. Most people are familiar with the violence of the Lord's Resistance Army in Northern Uganda, which I have learned was actually a form of rebellion against the centralized government, but Uganda was also plagued by politica violence prior to the Northern War.

One of UCA's projects called the Integrated Financial and Agricultural Production Initiative which seeks to reduce rural poverty is based in Northern Uganda in regions impacted by the conflict. So Halfway through the second phase of the project they decided to conduct a peace and conflict impact assessment which was carried out by the intern from last year.

The Peace and Conflict Impact Assessment contains several recommendations for how the IFAPI project and UCA more generally might integrate conflict sensitivity into their programming. So one of the first things I did when I got here was identify the key activities which could be undertaken to meet the recommendations.

So again I have a laundry list of things that I'm going to be doing here. The first task which I have undertaken has been to network with other organizations working in the peacebuilding field so that they (and I) have some external resources for things like training and print materials. So far I have visited the UN office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (and have been invited back for subsequent visits), the UN High Commision on Refugees and the Center for Conflict Resolution, who are helping to develop our training. I'm still planning to visit the refugee law project, War Child and the Danish De-mining group. I am also working with the Center for Conflict Resolution to help develop the training sessions which I expect will be a huge learning experience. In December I expect to travel to the North in Gulu to conduct another Peace and Conflict Impact Assessment and to do baseline surveys in the regions that I have already visited.

There are a few reasons I really like my job. First I get to work fairly independently in a subject area I enjoy. I learned over the last year that team work is not always my strong point although I am enjoying the opportunity to work on this through networking and working with my colleagues at UCA. The second reason I really like this position is that I get to do a lot of work one-on-one with people which is a great learning experience for me, but I also hope it gives them an opportunity to learn a little bit about conflict sensitivity. The third reason I like this position is I see a huge opportunity to make a lasting and constructive impact on the organization I'm working with and that the process will help me to further to develop my leadership skills.

I think we all know I really like networking.

There's one more thing, you're probably wondering what conflict-sensitivity is and why it is important. Conflict sensitivity is being aware of the context you're working in, the way your organization interacts with the context and then determining how to approach your work accordingly. The reason conflict sensitivity is important, is because if you lack that situational awareness, either the post-conflict setting may make your program or development intervention run less effectively, or worse your intervention may contribute to increased latent (non-violent) conflict and structural violence.

More to come

Kampla: First Impressions

The First 24 Hours

I arrived in Kampala on October 2nd at 7:30 a.m.. The flight between London and Kampala had been much smoother and I had been able to sleep but I was still tired. On my flight I had met two interesting ladies sitting next to me. One was an older British woman who had been working with humanitarian organizations in Uganda for a number of years, the other was a young Ugandan woman, trained as a social worker but acting as a consultant for a local charity. It was great to hear their insights and we are still following up.

Upon arriving at the airport we were met by a driver sent by the UCA (Ugandan Cooperative Alliance) who took us to a hotel in downtown Kampala close to the Nakasero market, which even early on a Sunday morning was bustling.

For the first two nights we stayed at the Tourist Hotel, a cheapish hotel which offers the essentials (having seen the inside of the Imperial Royal Hotel in Kampala I'm not really sure how to describe the rooms in either hotel but they were quite opposite. I'm not saying the tourist hotel wasn't nice but it was simple, not luxurious like the Imperial.)In any case the Tourist did offer free high speed internet and had a nice cafe. The only real downside was that it's proximity to the market meant constant noise 24 hours a day. Kampala is generally a very noisy place.

After settling in the hotel room Carolyn, the other CCA intern and I, adventured out for some food, and we ended up with what was so far the worst meal I had in Kampala. Matoke (mashed plantain) with beef chunks in a tomato broth. Yuck. We then returned to the hotel room and jet lag got the better of me so I slept. In the evening we went salsa dancing at a Mexican restaurant and had a nice Indian dinner which was great
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Finding an Apartment

Before leaving Ottawa Carolyn and I decided that we were going to live together. On our first day of work our supervisor took us to look at a variety of apartments in different corners of Kampala. By Tuesday we had settled on a furnished three bedroom apartment in an area called Muyenga, halfway down one of Kampala's many hills. The apartment is very beautiful with shiny tile floors and wood trim, it also has a modern kitchen with a stove and fridge. In case you were wondering, it also has running water and electricity, except when the power is out. Power outages have been a problem since I arrived in Uganda with one occurring approximately every other day. During the first power outage at our home we discovered that our apartment has cockroaches and a very frightened mouse. However, I haven't seen the mouse since the first power outage and the cockroaches for some reason only seem to come out during power outages and are very easy to kill. On Monday we had a third roommate move in named Mo from India. So far, I quite like our living arrangements.

Work
Everyone at work is very lovely. It's a bit hard to describe the building I work in, but basically there are two adjacent buildings which are connected by a small foot bridge. On the one side of the bridge is the main office where my supervisor works and on the other is the office that I work in which is a fairly small room with six people and five desks. The math doesn't quite work out but it's okay we seem to be able to get work done anyway. On my third day of work there was some confusion because I was asked by my supervisor to speak with the Microfinance manager who informed me that he was hoping that I would partially fill the role of Gender and HIV officer. I was a bit distressed by this because I had, had the opportunity to do this work in other countries but I was keen on the peace and conflict position I had hired to do. Luckily by Friday after some clarification from my supervisor, we had established that there had been a mis-communication and that I would in fact be doing peace and conflict work. This week has been a bit faster paced with meetings and things to do and I think I am going to enjoy working here quite a bit. It's also worth mentioning that the Secretary General of the UCA has taken us out for lunch a couple of times which has also proven to be quite enjoyable.

Socializing
I am getting to know people here in Kampala, mostly through contacts that I had before I came, in addition to my neighbours and coworkers. I have been out for dinner several evenings, often at Indian or Italian restaurants and I'm sure in time some of these contacts will become close friends.

Thanksgiving
As I did when I was in South Africa, on Monday night I prepared Thanksgiving Dinner. I prepared Roast Chicken, Mashed Potatos and Green Beans and our guests, a work colleague and one of Carolyn's friends contributed a lovely pumpkin (squash) dish, salad and drinks. Cooking the chicken proved to be quite a challenge because the gas element in our oven kept extinguishing. Since I'm afraid of matches we had to get one of the workers at the apartment, Peter, to relight it for us. The first time Peter lit the oven there was a small explosion in the oven but Peter was fortunately unharmed. I also had the opportunity to talk to my family on the phone late Monday night which was wonderful, although it did make me a bit homesick.

Why Yesterday was Awesome
On my way to get a Matatu (minibus) yesterday morning a car pulled up beside me and stopped. Rather than being a boda boda looking to pick me up I was delighted to discover that it was my nextdoor neighbours who I had not previously met. In a twist of fate I soon discovered that the woman in the couple, Olivia, is a program office for the UN High Commission on Human Rights. Excitedly, I explained my internship to her and she invited me to attend a screening of Uganda's Universal Periodic Review at the Office of the High Commission on Human Rights the same night. Olivia and her husband James also gave me a ride to work.

Before attending the screening I also had the opportunity to meet with the Executive Director of the Center for Conflict Resolution, a peace and conflict organization in Kampala. I quite enjoyed our meeting and hearing about their organization. Their collection of publications on Small Arms and Light Weapons alone was enough to make this academic's jaw drop. I am also eager to explore further opportunities to work together with the organization.

At about four o'clock yesterday afternoon I hopped on a boda boda (a motor cycle which you ride on the back of which are quite unsafe, I don't particularly like and only ride out of necessity) and headed for the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights. The driver got lost so of course I was late, but what I did catch of the Universal Periodic Review I quite enjoyed. Despite my fascination with the UN I've never had the opportunity to watch in full any of it's proceedings and this offered an excellent opportunity to learn about the human rights situation in Uganda. I also had the opportunity to network with others working on similar issues to me, which is important because there is no one else within the UCA who is doing conflict work and the only people within the organization who have experience in the area, are those who have experienced it directly.

So, I think that's about enough writing for now.

Single Stories

Before I left Ottawa I participated in two days of training with the Center for Inter-Cultural Learning. Although I was already aware of many of the concepts discussed as part of the training a topic came up which I thought was worth discussing on my blog before writing about my experience in Uganda.

During the first afternoon of training we watched a TED talk called "The Danger of a Single Story."

The talk is given by Chimamanda Adichie, a writer from Nigeria who discusses the concept of a "single story." Basically what a single story is, is an explanation or story which we have developed for ourselves about a subject (such as a country or person) on which we do not have all of the information. So, for example, when many Westerners think about Sub-Saharan Africa, they often think of pictures of starving children with flies all over their faces. Of course such situations exist but it is not the only story. Indeed, there are also stories of power, of being rich and of overcoming adversity without the need for an interventions by muzungus (white people) or anybody else.

If you have been following my blog for a while you know that I try to discuss a variety of topics from a variety of angles (except for politics) (haha), but I would hope that the stories that I do present do not create a single story for anyone reading it.

So of course I encourage everyone to read more about Uganda, peace building and any other topics which might come up on this blog so that you have more than just a single story.

Here's the link for the TED talk: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9Ihs241zeg

Tip of the Hat to London

So after flying from Ottawa to Halifax and Halifax to London I arrived at Heathrow International Airport with about an hour worth of sleep. (I spent two hours on the plane watching Bridesmaids and to be honest I don't know what the hype was about that movie it was just a raw romantic comedy).

Once I had arrived I checked in for my next flight which was to depart ten hours later and hopped on the Heathrow Express, then the Tube and arrived at Piccadily Circus. Not sure where to go I started meandering, as I normally do in a new place, and found myself in St. James Park by the Thames River. From there I followed a gaggle of tourists towards the cavalry barracks which were quite ornate and from which I had a clear view of the big ben, Westminster Abbey and the Ferris Wheel.

After taking a few moments to take in the sights and take some pictures I moved on to a street which was far less busy where I found a place called "The French Bakery." What a find! The bakery was full of delightful looking desserts. I of course had a cupcake and a cup of tea and met some other Canadians.

Once I was finished I continued along an area called "South Bank" which had a book market, restaurants, art installations and other such things. After picking up some postcard I continued to an area named St. Paul's Cathedral and had some traditional fish and chips. I then continued to wander until I decided I was too tired and headed back towards the tube route I had started on. Which took about an hour.

I learned an important lesson on this excursion. It is not a good idea to try to walk for five hours after only having slept for 1.

I then returned to Heathrow for a nap and to board my plane
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How I Almost Didn't Go to Uganda

I am optimistic that no one from the Canadian Cooperative Association is reading my blog before my departure or at least they understand.

Three weeks ago I came home to Mississauga, sad to leave my Ottawa friends behind, Happy to see my Mississauga Friends and Happy and to Have my Aunt Miriam with me. Leaving for Uganda already seemed like a challenge.

On Tuesday September 6th my mom, my aunt and I went on a trip to Jack Darling Park, a lake front park in Mississauga, and one of my mom and my favorite watering holes. About halfway through the excursion I discovered that I didn't have my cell phone with me, no big deal I wasn't expecting any calls.

When I got home there was a missed call from a number with a Toronto area code and a message.

The message was from Olivia Chow's office. Imagine my shock to discover a message inquiring whether I was still interested in the legislative assistant position which I had applied for two months earlier (I think the delay in response need not be explained). I called back and indicated that I was interested and the assistant I spoke to said they would let me know in about a week whether I had been short listed and subsequently would be invited for an interview. I was invited for an interview three days later.

My thought process: going to Uganda to work as a peace and conflict officer is a once in a life time opportunity. So is being a legislative assistant in Ms. Chow's office. I had been considering trying to find employment with the NDP on return from my trip but this seemed like the perfect opportunity and offered me some of the stability I have been so badly craving. (I'm tired of leaving people behind)

My interview was on the 12th at noon. I wore my nicest dress and brought a pair of high heels with me in my purse which I put on too soon after getting off the subway and arrived at the office with terrible blisters on both of my baby toes. Sitting down for the interview I was extremely nervous. She asked some very tough questions including why she would want to hire me when I eventually planned to do a PhD (a relevant question which I answered by saying: I can do a PhD any time but I can work for you now). I have to admit that I found the first half of the interview very tense but during the second half I relaxed and things went a little better. I left the interview unsure of how it went, and tried to put it out of my head.

I remained unsure for a week and a half, trying to prepare for my upcoming trip knowing that I might not go. I didn't tell that many people because I didn't want people in Ottawa to anticipate my return when I knew it might not happen.

Yesterday I got the call. Of course the call came through while I was on the subway so then I had to spend an anxious 10 minutes listening to my messages, and playing phone tag in the office. It turns out that at the last minute they had a candidate come forward with more legislative experience, but they really liked me and it was a hard decision. That was hard to hear.

On the plus side they invited me to call the office when I am back in Canada to find out if there are any new opportunities available.

So you can imagine I'm full of mixed emotions and not quite as prepared to go as I would like to be.

I'm feeling nervous about culture shock, and about being away from home for 6 months and what I'm going to do when I come back to Canada. I'm also sad to be leaving behind some really strong friendships in Ottawa.

Yet, I'm excited about my new job and the opportunity to travel and learn again. Tomorrow night is my going away party in Mississauga and on Sunday I'm heading back to Ottawa for some training.

Wish me well.

In Memorial: Jack Layton

The first time I heard Jack Layton speak I was 16. It was a cold day in late February 2003, I was 16 and attending my first Peace Vigil. The war in Iraq was fast approaching and I was attending a student's peace vigil at Mississauga City Hall, armed with a hand made sign. I don't remember exactly what Jack said but, standing only a few feet from him, I remember being impressed that he would find time to come and speak to a couple of hundred students and that I was touched by what he said.

This experience laid the foundation for my interest in the NDP even though at the time I felt that the NDP was not a contender in National Politics I agreed with their foreign policy. This was also the start of my civic involvement. Much to my mother's shagrin I attended the much larger March 15th protest opposing the war two weeks later.

Eight years later in January of 2011 I found myself job hunting. A number of people had suggested I try my luck with a political party, and the NDP was the only party I would consider. Through my job search I was invited both to volunteer with the All Party Parliamentary Committee on the Prevention of Genocide and other Crimes Against Humanity which was run from Paul Dewar's office and working on the National Suicide Prevention Strategy Campaign in Megan Leslie's office, both opportunities which I jumped at.

Over the following four months I became intimately acquainted with the staff of both MP's offices and the Confederation building. I enjoyed working with both and so when the election was called I naturally volunteered to canvas for Paul Dewar in Ottawa Center. This was also an experience which I immensely enjoyed.

Because of my volunteer work in late April I was invited to a breakfast which Jack Layton was attending and I stood behind him as he delivered a Press Release. His determination and optimism was evident as he smiled while he walked with his cane towards the podium. The orange crush had begun.

On May 2nd, everyone cheered at Paul Dewar's victory party when it was announced that Mr. Layton had succeeded in becoming the leader of the official opposition, a first for the party.

Yesterday I was very sad to learn that Jack Layton had lost his battle with cancer. However, I am certain that he lives on through the inspiration which he created through his fight for social justice in Canada and beyond.

Here is a Link to Jack's Final Letter to the Canadian Public: http://www.ndp.ca/letter-to-canadians-from-jack-layton

Moving Forward

My last days at DFAIT were interesting. I completed a 50 page standard operating procedure for the program I was working for and said my goodbyes. My director thanked me for the "Thankless work" I had done for the group.

When I started at foreign affairs I was really excited to be working with a programming unit. I thought that working for a program would expose me to fewer of the elements I disliked about working as an assistant policy analyst, which I had (incorrectly) identified as relating to policy analysis. I felt that by working with a program I would be able to see the tangible impact of my work. And to an extent I did, I saw the photocopies I made and sat in on the meetings I arranged, but as it turned out, it was the administrative components both part of my positions at Foreign Affairs and Public Safety that I found most uninteresting.

Also, being exposed to the programming environment also regularly caused me to return to questions raised in my course work at Dalhousie. Is it adequate to use standard formatting for tasks such as monitoring and evaluation? Was the work that was being done actually meeting the needs of the program beneficiaries, or was Canada the real beneficiary? and what role is any should the political branch of the public service play in programming (in my opinion this should be close to none but it doesn't always work that way). However, I can definitely see value to these questions being raised in an employment setting and so it was an interesting experience.

I'm also glad to have had that experience because it made me realize I would prefer to work in a policy setting rather than a program setting (at least while I am still working at the assistant or officer level). Further, I feel like working at Foreign Affairs was possibly the first time where I successfully developed strong (and perhaps lasting) professional relationships.

So in the end I suppose the experience was not time wasted.

For the last two weeks of August I am back to canvassing for Amnesty International with Public Outreach. This may surprise you to read but I actually quite enjoy working for Public Outreach. I am happy to have an opportunity to talk to the general public about issues relating to Human Rights. I also love the people who I work with, many of whom are students. My colleagues are from many different educational and professional backgrounds, all of whom have at least a passing interest in the issues we talk about on a daily basis.

There are some things about working with Public Outreach that discourage me as well. I feel that there is a startling amount of disengagement in issues which people view as third world problems and I have met more than a few people who seem to feel no obligation to support human rights and dignity for people outside of their immediate circles. I also am a bit discouraged about the way some people treat canvasser, particularly those canvassing on the street rather than door to door. Street canvassers put a lot of themselves out there to try to get people's attention and engage in meaningful conversations but many people react abrasively. Perhaps they feel guilty that they cannot help, they are disinterested or just really busy, but it would seem to me that the decent thing to do would be to politely acknowledge someone rather than ignoring them or being rude.

Also you should know that you may think that you don't have $10 a month to give to charity, but neither do the people who live in houses with 3 car garages.

Meanwhile, I'm also packing up and getting ready to go to Mississauga before I come back to Ottawa and move on to Uganda. Should be easy right?

Not a chance.

To give you an idea I have had 2 dentist appointments 3 optometrist appointments, a travel doctor appointments, multiple goodbyes, packing, attempts to give away and sell my things and even trying to secure Christmas presents for my family.

All that on top of my normal activities (swing dance, running, friending etc.)

So it's been interesting and continues to be.

But as always, I'm moving forward.