Ugandan Superstar
July 16th, 2009As I cruise through Bukoloto on the back of a motorbike, I hold on with only one hand. The other is in a continuous wave. It may not be the safest move, but I can’t disappoint my fans. And my fans are everywhere.
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Red carpet treatment down every red dirt road…
When the locals [my fans] see my blonde hair sailing down the road, they come running. The children shriek and chase after the bike. They scream my name, “Muzungo!” It means “white person” (I can’t fault them for accuracy). Everyone’s smiles are as bright as paparazzi flash bulbs.
I came to volunteer in this small, rural Ugandan village, in spite of the fact that I’ve never been into the “v” word – too much of an altruistic ring for me. Not that I’m against lending a hand, but why travel thousands of miles to do so? The pay-off for volunteering in village name was an opportunity to experience the real Africa.
By ‘real’, I mean tribal. Complete with mud huts, animal skin drums, singing, dancing and unabashed public breast feeding. Of course the ‘real’ Africa is also steeped in some very real problems: AIDS, tropical diseases and crippling poverty. So an authentic African experience means witnessing both stunning culture and staggering poverty.
Today’s Uganda is safe and stable. Yet years of conflict and halted development have left Uganda one of East Africa’s poorest countries. Not good for Ugandans, but for tourists it means cheap travel, and for volunteers it means endless opportunities.
You don’t have to pay for an incredible cultural experience – you can work for it!
Roughly the size of Britain, Uganda is small by African standards, yet absolutely spectacular. The land encompasses savannahs and swamplands, steamy tropical heat and cool mountain mist. It’s the source of the mighty Nile, world-class whitewater rafting, as well as home to lions, giraffes, elephants, hippos, thousands of bird species, and the mighty mountain gorillas. Meanwhile, Kampala, Uganda’s capital is arguably the safest capital in Africa.
With Uganda on my mind I hit the web, and quickly discovered there were no short-term volunteer opportunities there. Since I make my living writing for home and garden magazines, and no one seemed to be looking for 1500 words on the dos-and-don’ts of window treatments, I was ok with doing a longer stint. Resigned to making my contribution via manual labor (i.e. school building) or orphan care, I cruised the many listings for both. Then I stumbled upon a posting by Hope for Orphans and Rural Development [HORD] a Ugandan organization looking for a journalist.
I visited the HORD website and it was clear that it was a grassroots operation. The website was basic, and most of the verbs were incorrect – for starters, I knew I could help with their website.
I goggled the name of the village where HORD was headquartered; it did not goggle. Then I goggled the name of the district where HORD operates; it didn’t goggle either.
I figured it didn’t get more ‘real’ than that, so I sent an email to the founder, Simon Nzigu inquiring about the organization’s journalistic needs. The response was somewhat like the website; strange grammar and a bit confusing. But I got the gist.
Under Simon’s direction Hope for Orphans and Rural Development [HORD] had united a community, found homes for nearly 100 orphans and negotiated 150 school scholarships for orphaned and impoverished youth in the district. HORD had done it all with no outside assistance. But to do more HORD needed funding, and Simon believed that sharing his community’s story was a good place to start.
I liked the story and wanted to help tell it, but the Idealist.org posting had asked for a commitment of 1-month, commencing on March 1. I wasn’t available until March 17. Simon said “no problem.”
And….ACTION!
I spent two days in Kampala, Uganda’s capital. It was everything the guide books promised: good food and good times. It was also packed with good people; honest to goodness do-gooders, A.K.A. volunteers; they were everywhere.
I met volunteers of all ages, professions and nationalities. Beyond medical workers and teachers, I met chiropractors, contractors, IT professionals and even photographers, all whose skills had been welcomed by NGOs [Non Government Organizations]. Some of the volunteers I met had chosen to take “working vacations”, which sounds like an impossible contradiction. But in the words of a British chiropractor “at home it’s a job, in Uganda it’s a passion.”
Big City to Bucket Showers
After a weekend in the big city it was time for me to head to “the field” – that’s what they call the rural areas, where the tragedies of the African continent are as vivid as a dashiki.
The day before Simon was to escort me to Kumali District, HORD’s service area, he met me at my hotel for some pre-field prep. For 2 hours he explained that, since AIDS has taken the lives of so many adults, there were countless homes being run by the oldest child, sometimes only 10-years old. HORD was working to find them homes, but there were still hundreds of child-headed households in the district. I was told not to be surprised by the women-to-men ratio, for although AIDS does not discriminate between men and women, men often die faster from the disease. In some villages, AIDS had widowed nearly half of the women. HORD was actively providing vocational training to these women, teaching them to pool their resources for small business ventures; but most of the women had yet to generate significant income for their families.
Simon had assured me, in advance, that I would have a private room at “the orphanage”, the home he inherited from his uncle, and now shares with 9 orphans. At the end of our meeting Simon looked at me very gravely and said “about the orphanage…” and I was sure I was about to kiss my privacy goodbye. In a grave tone he informed me that there was no running water or electricity. In light of the prep talk, electricity and water seemed pretty insignificant.
A Star Is Born
Simon and I traveled 4-hours from Kampala to Kumali. The last phase of the journey was on motorcycle taxis, down a red dirt road lined with crumbling mud huts and an occasional brick home – boxes really.
As we drove I thought I heard banging. The motorcycle began to slow and I realized the banging was the beating of a drum. In Kampala I had heard nothing but dancehall music. So for me, the pounding of the drum marked my arrival to “real” Africa.
My excitement, and my nerves, reached their pinnacle. I wondered if the beating of my heart could be heard as clearly as the drum. As we rounded the corner to the HORD office, I burst into tears - pure joy. The drums had been joined by 100 singing voices, the villagers awaiting my arrival. Everyone was dancing: men, women, children, shaking their hips like I’d never seen before [or since!]. Singing “Samba! Samba!” — “Welcome.”
Playing the Part
I easily adapted to life at the orphanage. Each day I would wake up and go for a run. No matter which dirt path I chose, it was inevitably lined with children on their way to school. Each school requires their students to wear a different color uniform. There were bright yellow uniforms, and orange and blue – the colors played against the expresso skin of the children. It was like running through a human rainbow. And as I ran, they all waved and shouted “”Muzungu!” I suspect I burnt more energy waving than running.
After my run I’d be given a bucket of water; my shower. Then I’d join Simon for tea. Other than those two rituals, every day was different. Since I had been invited to Uganda to tell HORD’s story, Simon wanted to make sure I got the whole story. So we traversed Kamuli district, visiting schools and development projects. Often, while in route to another village, we would make a pit stop to check on an orphan who, thanks to HORD, had found a family.
During my three weeks with HORD I watched Simon negotiate 35 new school scholarships. But as I was representing white girls everywhere, I didn’t want to be seen as a lazy spectator; so I helped a women’s group plant pineapple, I built an elevated pigpen with another group of women. I learned to cross breed the passion fruit.
I loved evenings best. The orphanage was a row of cement rooms. The walls were painted red and in the lantern light they glowed. It was the perfect backdrop, for I felt enveloped in the warmth of these people that I had come to know. At night all 9 orphans would be home; ages 4 – 18. From the battery operated radio, there was a constant stream of popular Ugandan music. At dusk, some of the orphans would be busy with their school work, others cooking dinner. The youngest ones used this time to try and teach me the butt-shaking local dance; I was terrible, and they never tired of laughing at my lame attempts. The teenagers were quick to master my iPod and continued to play ‘deejay’ long after I went to sleep.
I’d Like to Thank….
From the get, I knew it was a good deal; I’d write website copy and they’d show me untouched African culture. But I had no idea just how good. It was more than just an opportunity to experience authentic Africa, I became connected to it. I didn’t just visit Uganda; I found a second home.
Be a Star…
Hope for Orphans & Rural Development: HORD welcomes all volunteers. To learn more about becoming a HORD volunteer please contact Simon Nzigu at hordug@gmail.com
Idealist: Over 84,000 nonprofit organizations from more than 180 countries have created profiles on Idealist.org. They use these profiles to list information about their missions, programs, services, and opportunities. The Idealist.org website facilitates connections between individuals and institutions that are interested in improving their communities.
Volunteers for Peace: VFP is a non-profit membership organization that serves as a placement service for project hosts and volunteers, linking people with projects. VFP offers placement in over 3000 short-term volunteer projects in more than 100 countries each year.