Visiting families in their little hut houses always puts me in an awkward position. The Ugandans are extremely hospitable people, and so they always offer us with their best (and only) chairs. So we sit, perched on their nice chairs, while the elders and mothers of the household sit with their newborn babies, sometimes breast feeding them, sitting on the dusty ground with flies all around them. There are usually at least three other children in the house, who are either off fetching water from the water pumps, labourously biking them home, or are standing around in their tattered clothing watching us curiously. Almost all of the women we\u2019ve visited don\u2019t speak English, and we only know how to greet in Lunyole. So, we sit around, smiling encouragingly, trying not to come off as arrogant or \u2018better\u2019, while Grandpa Hirome or Ivan (our hosts) catch up with the families. It\u2019s difficult not to feel self- conscious in those situations\u2014I realize how privileged I am when visiting the households within the villages. Swatting away the few flies that bother me during the visit seems like such an obnoxious thing to do, compared to the conditions that the families have to live in daily\u2026<\/p>\n
It bothers me that whole countries of people live like this. How can these people stand such a way of life, for their whole lives? Where do they find the energy to get up each morning at 4 a.m. to work in their gardens, then to make food, then to work for the rest of the day in the fields while taking care of a newborn baby (women usually tie babies to their backs while working in the fields or fetching water on their heads). Where do they get the perseverance to follow this routine every day of their lives? How do they live without running water, clean drinking water, warm beds, mosquito nets, electricity, toilets, lights for the dark night?, and other things we take as bare essentials in the \u2018developed\u2019 world??<\/p>\n
Is poverty a relative concept? Is it only in comparison to someone else that one can be wealthy or poor? These villagers may as well be homeless, in our understanding of poverty in Vancouver. But, there is something that sets them apart from the homeless and helpless in our Canadian communities\u2014they do not feel the poor spirit. It is probably because that is all they know, and there\u2019s not much luxury to aim for. To have a brick house, upgraded from their little straw huts, will be luxurious enough for a lifetime. Though, to see that the very basic human essentials: water, and food, so difficult to access for them, points to the fact that poverty isn\u2019t just an abstract concept\u2026 it exists, and it\u2019s painfully real. Is their poverty only in materials, or does it affect their spirit? I wonder what makes them happy. What keeps their little families so tightly bound? How do they feel their emotions? What contexts generate the different emotions?<\/p>\n
I attended a political swearing- in ceremony for the district of Butaleja as an honourary guest (along with my housemates) as guests of Mr. Hirome (he is Grandpa to us). It was really conflicting for me to witness the pretentious proceedings as the \u2018wealthy\u2019 played their little political performance. I truly hope that they have intentions to serve the people of their district\u2026 they are so well off compared to the general public, the villagers whose homes we visited. It\u2019s interesting to see how democracy here only slightly resembles democracy back home. Though I guess it\u2019s fairly decent compared to many other districts, and especially other African countries. Most of these politicians are affiliated with either the Islamic faith, or the Christian faith. Both groups swore in on the name of Allah\/ God, so I pray that they will stay true to their faith and personal conscience, and really try their best to serve their people with their best interests in mind.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Visiting families in their little hut houses always puts me in an awkward position. The Ugandans are extremely hospitable people, and so they always offer us with their best (and only) chairs. So we sit, perched on their nice chairs, while the elders and mothers of the household sit with their newborn babies, sometimes breast […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4810,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[251638,251622,251636,4409,251589,300,642,810,7510,2988],"class_list":["post-87","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-ceremonies","tag-city","tag-essentials","tag-human-rights","tag-impressions","tag-life","tag-politics","tag-poverty","tag-rural","tag-thoughts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/cchiaen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/87","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/cchiaen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/cchiaen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/cchiaen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4810"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/cchiaen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=87"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/cchiaen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/87\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":89,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/cchiaen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/87\/revisions\/89"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/cchiaen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=87"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/cchiaen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=87"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ubc.ca\/cchiaen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=87"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}