The Northern Tour (Part 3) - Adjumani

I last visited Adjumani in 2008.  At that time, the Hope Alive sponsored students in Adjumani were all refugees from Sudan.  Many of the Sudanese refugees living in Uganda were given the opportunity to voluntarily repatriate between 2007 and 2011.   A majority of the students being sponsored by HA also returned to South Sudan with their families, leading HA to close the Adjumani site following South Sudan’s independence in 2011.   For years, I have been wanting to return to the town.  With recent violence in South Sudan, a number of South Sudanese have returned to Northern Uganda as refugees.  I was hoping to also visit some of these refugee camps to see the situation firsthand.  We had brought a number of small children’s toys and balls to pass out at the camps.

We found Adjumani town much as I had remembered it.  The central town area is rather small, consisting of only a few main roads lined with shops, guest houses, and eating joints.   The refugee settlements were all located around 10-20 km away from the main town.  The camp system, however, seemed more organized than it was previously, although this could simply be my perception due to fading memory of what it was like before.  There were numerous signposts that clearly marked the locations of the camps.  In addition, there was a clear system in place for administering bureaucratic protocols and some level of security at the camps. 

We first tried to visit Nyumazi reception center, where refugees first go for processing and camp assignment when they arrive in Adjumani district.  I was surprised to find that it was fenced and gated.  In the past, I remembered freely visiting and walking through the numerous camps spread around Adjumani district.  (Yet, now I am realizing that Hope Alive had probably gone through some sort of registration process to be allowed to work in the camps at that time.)  We were refused entry into the reception center due to a lack of the proper documents.  We were politely encouraged to drive about 10 kilometers back towards Adjumani town in order to obtain the proper permissions from the Office of the Prime Minister.  Although it was frustrating, I was glad to see that there were some security measures in place, as there should be.

We drove back to the Office of the Prime Minister, the governmental entity which is tasked with Refugee Issues.  What follows is typical of the Ugandan system.  We entered the office and asked to speak with the man in charge.  The secretary proceeded to tell us to sit down and she would let him know that we were there.  (This is Ugandan code for “you are not important and I will tell the boss when I feel like it”.)  After about 15 minutes of waiting, I still had not seen the secretary go in to inform the “boss” that we were there to see him.  I approached her again and asked how long we were going to be waiting.  She informed me that he was “very busy”.  As luck would have it, the “boss” emerged from his office at the very moment I was speaking with the secretary.  He looked at me and I took the opportunity to greet him and ask for a few minutes of his time.  And that is how we finally got invited into his office.  (Otherwise, it is likely we would have waiting for at least an hour or more.)

I explained why we were there and that we needed permission to enter the camps.  He unempithetically informed me that we needed a letter from a Kampala office in order for him to give us permission.  I explained again that we were not with any specific organization, and thus had no reason to obtain a letter.  But he kept insisting that he could not give us permission without this letter from Kampala.  He asked me, “What can we do [about this]?”  This questions is the Ugandan way of indirectly asking for a monetary bribe.  I played stupid, though I knew what he meant.  There was NO way I was giving this guy money in exchange for permission to hand out soccer balls to refugee kids.  We continued to “discuss” the matter while I fed him a mix of ego-enticing flattery that acknowledged his power while also administering a heavy dose of guilt for his obstruction of our aid efforts in the camps.  Ultimately, our persistence won out and the big man gave us a pass to enter the camps… but not without taking a few of the small toys to “show his boss”.  Call it a Ugandan tax.

We drove back to Nyumazi II refugee settlement.  The camp itself seemed fairly well organized with noticeable square-shaped plots for each family.  The plots typically contained a hut and a very small garden surrounded by a crude fence made of scrap wood.  The Ugandan government does graciously allow these refugees to obtain small plots and to grow their own food.  Refugees in other countries often do not have this “luxury”.  However, the plots within the settlements are incredibly small.  There is not nearly enough land within a single plot to cultivate all the food needed to feed a typical family.  The refugee settlements are still supplemented with food from the UN, USAID, and UK AID.  In fact, there was a food distribution the very day that we visited.

We were able to hand out some small toys to the children.  We found a quieter area near a church to greet and play with the children, but of course word spread like wildfire that we were handing out “gifts” and before long we were surrounded by a hoard of children.  We eventually moved to a nearly deserted soccer field at the other end of the camp where our presence had not yet attracted a crowd.   Jeff decided to give a soccer ball to the few children playing there.  Within five minutes, there were at least 50 children on that field.  The area was open enough that we felt no one was in danger of being stampeded.  So we stayed and played for a while.  What followed was some impromptu songs (hokey pokey, head shoulders knees and toes, etc) and games (follow the leader, ring around the rosie, frisbee toss, etc).  But by far the highlight for most of the children seemed to be touching Jeff’s skin!  Because he was sunburned, they were amazed by the sight of pressing his skin and seeing it turn from red to white and back to red again.  Smiles and laughter abounded.

In honesty, this is not usually the way I like to operate in these situations.  I much prefer the type of “aid” that requires relationship-building, builds up the community, and brings long-lasting change.  Showing up at a camp, throwing out toys, and leaving is generally a method of operation that I despise.  However, there is also something to be said for creating hope and showing love through simple actions.  Oftentimes, the children in these camps have suffered so much in the wake of war: being uprooted from their homes, witnessing violence, and living in a constant state of limbo.  A brand new soccer ball or a jump rope can bring a moment of pure joy to a child who might have little else to celebrate.  Jeff and I are just random white people meandering into the camp, but our presence in the camp might bring hope that the world has not forgotten them.  We cannot fix their situation, but we can hold little hands and show loving concern.  These short, singular visits are not ideal, but they can still carry great purpose.  I pray that our short presence somehow planted hope in the little hearts surrounding us. 

The Northern Tour (Part 2) - Gulu

The bulk of our northern tour was spent in the town of Gulu. 

For anyone who has ever seen the popular documentary “Invisible Children”, you will recognize Gulu as a town that suffered much during the civil war that ravaged Northern Uganda from the late 1980’s to 2006.  During the 1990s and early to mid-2000s, the majority of the population of Northern Uganda lived in Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camps.  A rebel group known as the Lord’s Resistance Army terrorized the local population, enforcing illogical and random rules that would result in maiming or death for those who did not follow them.  This group was also infamous for abducting children to use as soldiers and forcing them to commit atrocities.  When the LRA finally left the area for good in 2006, it took the local population several years to even leave the camps and return to their homes.  The entire region had been decimated, and it would take years to rebuild homes and would take lifetimes to recover from emotional scars that had been inflicted.

Today, people are again thriving in the villages, on their own land.  Memories from the war are still strong, but people can now put those horrors behind them and continue looking to the future for hope and healing.  Homes have been rebuilt.  Crops are planted again in regular season.  Life has returned to “normal”… for those who can even remember what “normal” used to be before the war.

Jeff loved the plethora of animals...

Tea and "g-nuts" (peanuts)

Students practicing traditional dances

A village church

Cooking over a local "burner"

Pumping water

Just chillin' in the village

Helping with the meal

We spent the majority of our time visiting the homes of Hope Alive! students and mentors.  It is a special treat and an authentic look into local life to be able to visit friends in “the village”.  We’re talking a hike, boda ride, or drive through several kilometers of tall elephant grass with only a small worn path to follow.  The path eventually opens into a beautiful space where you typically will find a cluster of huts, a field of crops, and numerous animals ranging from chickens to cows.  This is “the village”.  And every home we visited extended us the most gracious hospitality imaginable.  These people live off the land, off of their own hard work.  They do not always have much, but they always shared the best they had with us.  This typically included a traditional meal, as well as “gifts” to take with us.  Ugandans do not always eat meat or other expensive foods (such as greens and fruit) with every meal.  But we were always fed the “best” foods everywhere we went.  We were given gifts of clothing, cassava, peanuts, bananas… all from people who understand that the richness of life is not found in monetary things, but rather in friendship and generosity.  For many of them, these gifts were given at a significant level of sacrifice on their part.

Assistant Gulu Site Manager (and good friend) Samuel with his three boys

Hope Alive student (and now mentor) Juliet and family

Inside Juliet's village home

Typical meal served in the village.  

This one included rice, chicken, bo (greens) in g-nut sauce, and bananas.

Part of the cassava we received.

I personally cherish every single one of these visits.  I feel incredibly at peace being in these villages where life is pure and simple (for the most part).  And where the people live in a natural state of community.  It is something we simply cannot experience in the ever-present culture of individuality and consumerism United States. 

We also visited the Hope Alive! feeding center in Koro Abili.  This center was originally constructed to feed sponsored students who lived in the adjacent IDP camp.  The camp has been dismantled for over six years and all the students have returned to outlying villages or to schools in town.  But the center still remains as a place of gathering for Hope Alive functions and the location of the main office for the HA Gulu site. 

At the feeding center with Samuel.

Hope Alive’s new vision for Gulu site is to build a school.  The majority of schools in these outlying villages provide a poor level of education.  Hope Alive has a vision of starting a school that will provide quality education to the surrounding communities.  The land has already been purchased and plans are currently being drawn up for the school(s).  The plan is to start small, with a primary school, and to eventually add a secondary school and vocational school in the future.  The existence of this school could potentially revolutionize the local community by providing better opportunities for the younger generation through education.

Hope Alive's Land

We were only in Gulu for about four days – certainly not long enough.  I was sad to find that Gulu site was not having “Saturday Club” on the weekend that we were there.  Usually, I can see most of the children at one time when they gather together for Saturday Club.  But this time I was only able to “catch up” with a small group of students.  This was a big disappointment after waiting for four years to be reunited with everyone, but I was still extremely grateful for the opportunities to make visits to individual families and students.  I cherish the opportunity to continue building these relationships and to be able to witness the "growth" I have seen in these families over the past eight years.

Former Hope Alive student, Alice, who is now a teacher in Gulu.

Former Hope Alive students, Joyce and Nancy.  Joyce now supports her entire family with the tailoring skills she learned in vocational school.

Hope Alive student Andrew (in red shirt) with his grandmother and cousins.

The Northern Tour (Part 1) – Murchison Falls National Park

After about a week in Kampala, we left to take a whirlwind tour of the North.  We invited our Ugandan friend, Jimmy, to join us.  And, along with our driver – Henry, we had a fun group.

On the way to our first destination, we stopped to see a Uganda friend, also named Henry.  About six years ago, when I was driving North with a team from Park Avenue Baptist Church, we had a mechanical failure on our car.  The back tires locked up at about 60 mph and we ended up making a dangerous 360 across the road.  Luckily, no one was coming the other way and no pedestrians were in our path.  We were not injured, but the car was done for the day.  While we waited for a tow truck to come from Kampala, a young man from the local area came up to ask us if we needed help.  At first, I rebuffed his offers because I thought he was just trying to make white friends whom he thought might give him some money.  However, we soon realized that Henry was sincere in his offers to help.  He brought us to his nearby home where he allowed us to rest in the shade and provided good company while we waited hours for the tow truck.  I have never forgotten his kindness.  I now try to visit him every time that I am in Uganda.  We were able to stop by his home again and see him.  He also took us to meet some of his teachers at the school he used to attend.  In the past six years, Henry has been studying to become an ordained priest and will be ordained next year.  We were so happy to be able to see him during this trip.

The first big stop was Murchison Falls National Park, a popular game park in Uganda.  Murchison Falls was first “discovered” by European explorers in 1862.  The national park was established in 1952 and now encompasses just over 2400 square miles.  We were able to hit all the highlights in the two days that we were there: visiting the falls, a safari drive, and a boat ride on the Nile.  It was the first time to the park for Jeff and Jimmy, and thankfully we all had a fantastic experience.  And although I have been to this park multiple times, I have never seen so many animals as close up as I did this time.  Unfortunately, there has also been a considerable rate hike in the past couple years that targets foreign visitors, so this might also be our last trip to Murchison for a while (or forever if park fees continue to go up). 

As soon as we arrived, we visited the top of the falls.  It is a violent and dazzling sight.  As described on the Uganda Wildlife Authority website: the raging waters of “the Nile squeezes through an 8 meter wide gorge and plunges with a thunderous roar into the ‘Devil’s Cauldron’, creating a trademark rainbow.”  In a typical African lack of safety standards, there are no guardrails or safety ropes at the edge of the river.  There is only one lonely sign before the water plummets over the falls that advises visitors not to venture any further.  Visitors can literally walk to the edge of the falls, with the raging rapids passing by directly in front of their eyes.  I get nervous just looking out at rushing the water, and feel humbled before the awesome power of nature.  No matter how many times I see these falls, it is always a rush… no pun intended.

The next morning, we awoke before dawn and caught the first ferry across the river to begin our game drive.  We had a hired park ranger/wildlife guide to ride with us.  He pointed out the best viewing spots, and educated us about all the wildlife we were seeing.  We were also the first group to find some lions: a few cubs and then the momma.  We saw an abundance of giraffe and antelope, as well as a good number of water buffalo, various monkeys, and wart hogs.  The highlights were a dung beetle rolling his ball of dung across the road, followed by an up close and personal experience with a herd of elephants.  (See end of post for videos.)

That afternoon, we took a leisurely boat ride up the Nile River to the bottom of Murchison Falls.  We saw mostly birds, hippos, and some crocodiles in the distance.  The noteworthy part of the boat ride was the time we spent sitting on the boat prior to departure because they had to refuel.  This involved docking the boat for about an hour while they procured a vehicle to go fill up a large 60 gallon drum with diesel.  In true Ugandan fashion, they “unloaded” the drum by simply flipping it off the back of the pickup truck onto a waiting tire that cushioned its landing and flipped it upright onto the ground.  They then tipped the drum sideways to fill up several jerry cans that were manually carried onto the boat and dumped into the fuel tank.  Sounds safe, right?

All in all, it was a great “safari” trip.