Hitting the ground running
Please forgive the double posting today, but I have been unable to access the internet for several days. I am told that I am Anglo-Saxonized due to my internet dependency. I am willing to accept that.
The subject of this posting is exactly what I have been doing. Ever since I set foot in Gulu I have been on automatic pilot, attending meetings, forums, ceremonies, dinners, and what have you. I am on a steep learning curve, trying to absorb the names, places, history. The International Peace Day conference is certainly reminiscent of similar events in Rwanda and elsewhere: a lot of politicians talking, a lot of delays, power outages, and chairs breaking (during one session I witnessed three proud participants fall on their rears has the chairs below them collapsed). But there was also a good deal of productivity and I think the country as a whole is finally starting to approach this conflict as a concern of the nation and not just Acholiland (the area most affected by the LRA insurgency).
On Friday I had the pleasure of attending a forum where children and youth were given space to speak their own minds about the conflict and how to move forward. I have to say that this was probably my favorite event of the week, as the children were impressively eloquent and sharp about the circumstances of the region – and of course children bring humor. During the lunch break I decided to sit next to a group of youths. It was pulling teeth to try to get the kids to talk to me during our meal, but after the lunch had concluded, one of the girls approached me. Fiona, a sweet 14 year-old asked me for my information so she could write me a letter. And sure enough on Saturday, following a daylong ceremony, Fiona found me in the midst of the huge crowds (I guess my bright white complexion comes through for me every now and again) and handed me an envelope: a picture of her, another of her parents, and a short note telling me about herself and asking for my own profile and picture.
There was a scheduled bonfire for a bull roast and music scheduled for Friday night. Once again, and to be expected, there was a huge thunderstorm that resulted in a power outage. Naturally there was a delay and instead of roasted bull, I think somebody just nuked some goat. I still find it difficult to attend these events where only certain people of status are given nice chairs under a tent and served food and drinks, while hundreds and hundreds of others who are in attendance are left out. Lina felt the same way as me, so we hoarded our goat rations for some of the children. It just seems paradoxical to arrange these big events to encourage unity, inclusiveness and peace when the majority of the population is excluded from the benefits.
Bright and early on Saturday morning, after a two-hour delay, I marched through Gulu in a huge procession with my peeps from Northern Uganda, Burundi and elsewhere. It was quite a scene, with the military marching, a band, and every possible grouping you can imagine (women, orphans, night commuters, peace groups, youth). Thousands of people came out to watch and join the ceremonies. Once again, we were cordoned off from the general population. While we sat under our tents for 6 hours, with drink deliveries, the masses of Guluans (the term I am officially coining for the people of Gulu – at least until I learn the proper term) roasted under the direct sun without any relief. In fact, one woman made a bit of a stir as she emerged from the masses, walked over by the tents, grabbed herself a coke and took chair. Good for her is what I say!
I am sure you will all be green with envy to know in the midst of all these events I got to see Miss Uganda, although I didn’t manage to break through the male force field to actually make her acquaintance. President Museveni was supposedly going to attend the big ceremony on Saturday, but for whatever reason, that fell through. So this week of craziness has officially come to a conclusion.
I still don't have the capacity to post pictures I have only just now found an internet cafe (I spent my Sunday roaming the streets - Guluans haven't jumped on the internet bandwagon yet) and while I am thankful for the disk drive, there is no CD-ROM drive for me to load the software. But hopefully soon!!
The subject of this posting is exactly what I have been doing. Ever since I set foot in Gulu I have been on automatic pilot, attending meetings, forums, ceremonies, dinners, and what have you. I am on a steep learning curve, trying to absorb the names, places, history. The International Peace Day conference is certainly reminiscent of similar events in Rwanda and elsewhere: a lot of politicians talking, a lot of delays, power outages, and chairs breaking (during one session I witnessed three proud participants fall on their rears has the chairs below them collapsed). But there was also a good deal of productivity and I think the country as a whole is finally starting to approach this conflict as a concern of the nation and not just Acholiland (the area most affected by the LRA insurgency).
On Friday I had the pleasure of attending a forum where children and youth were given space to speak their own minds about the conflict and how to move forward. I have to say that this was probably my favorite event of the week, as the children were impressively eloquent and sharp about the circumstances of the region – and of course children bring humor. During the lunch break I decided to sit next to a group of youths. It was pulling teeth to try to get the kids to talk to me during our meal, but after the lunch had concluded, one of the girls approached me. Fiona, a sweet 14 year-old asked me for my information so she could write me a letter. And sure enough on Saturday, following a daylong ceremony, Fiona found me in the midst of the huge crowds (I guess my bright white complexion comes through for me every now and again) and handed me an envelope: a picture of her, another of her parents, and a short note telling me about herself and asking for my own profile and picture.
There was a scheduled bonfire for a bull roast and music scheduled for Friday night. Once again, and to be expected, there was a huge thunderstorm that resulted in a power outage. Naturally there was a delay and instead of roasted bull, I think somebody just nuked some goat. I still find it difficult to attend these events where only certain people of status are given nice chairs under a tent and served food and drinks, while hundreds and hundreds of others who are in attendance are left out. Lina felt the same way as me, so we hoarded our goat rations for some of the children. It just seems paradoxical to arrange these big events to encourage unity, inclusiveness and peace when the majority of the population is excluded from the benefits.
Bright and early on Saturday morning, after a two-hour delay, I marched through Gulu in a huge procession with my peeps from Northern Uganda, Burundi and elsewhere. It was quite a scene, with the military marching, a band, and every possible grouping you can imagine (women, orphans, night commuters, peace groups, youth). Thousands of people came out to watch and join the ceremonies. Once again, we were cordoned off from the general population. While we sat under our tents for 6 hours, with drink deliveries, the masses of Guluans (the term I am officially coining for the people of Gulu – at least until I learn the proper term) roasted under the direct sun without any relief. In fact, one woman made a bit of a stir as she emerged from the masses, walked over by the tents, grabbed herself a coke and took chair. Good for her is what I say!
I am sure you will all be green with envy to know in the midst of all these events I got to see Miss Uganda, although I didn’t manage to break through the male force field to actually make her acquaintance. President Museveni was supposedly going to attend the big ceremony on Saturday, but for whatever reason, that fell through. So this week of craziness has officially come to a conclusion.
I still don't have the capacity to post pictures I have only just now found an internet cafe (I spent my Sunday roaming the streets - Guluans haven't jumped on the internet bandwagon yet) and while I am thankful for the disk drive, there is no CD-ROM drive for me to load the software. But hopefully soon!!
posted by Africa Anonymous @ 1:27 PM
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