traveling up-country
Several Ugandans have told me that in one month I have seen more of their country than they have. I spent the past four weeks traveling from one corner of the country to another – similar (in distance alone) to traveling from one end of Pennsylvania to the other.
I spent a week in the southwestern corner of the country (as close to the Democratic Republic of the Congo as you can get without actually crossing the border). To get there we sped over the equator and by a herd of grazing zebras. Crossing into the region was a bit like crossing into Ireland - in every direction were rolling hills and constant green; banana trees are like grass, they cover every inch of land.
Another week was spent in the eastern regions of the country. There my eyes were drawn often to the slopes of Mount Elgon – the peak of which forms the border with Kenya. In town, the buildings, arcades, wide streets and roundabouts brought one word to mind: colony. The central landmark, a clock tower, is dedicated to King George. I half- expected to run into Meryl Streep and Robert Redford strolling down the street (a.k.a. “Out of Africa”, circa ~1910).
****
Much of my time “up county” (whether north or south, in the mountains or on the plains anywhere outside of Kampala is referred to as “up-country”) was spent traveling to the homes of people infected or affected by HIV. As we sped through towns, up hills and past homes there was so much to take in. I searched for clues of what people are doing; how they are living; and if they are living better or worse here than the last place we visited. I saw men gathered in trading centers sucking local brew from a shared pot (at 10am), women emerging from the fields with bushels of beans atop their head, children tugging at cattle and twisting at goats, men pushing bicycles weighted down with dozens of water cans, children lugging their weight in firewood, women hunched over small basins pounding the dust out of clothes, men playing checkers in storefronts, women nursing babies while grilling maize, small children carrying even smaller children, men packing flour into sacks, women dusting the dust off of dust.
When finally we reached our destination – often after walking up a small path, driving down a dirt road, turning off of a paved road – for a few brief moments I could see and hear more closely how people live. I noticed the quiet. I was surprised to step inside a rectangular mud hut and see walls; it is not just one big room. I smiled to see the outer walls of many homes adorned with “Happy Christmas” written with chalk in a child’s handwriting. I realized that what looks like sitting from the road is often people hard at work – shelling beans, braiding hair or tending children.
****
People barely have drinking water and surely don’t have electricity and yet even the most remote villages are part of the Coca Cola versus Pepsi battle. Red and blue posters and placards abound; a smiling white face says –without speaking a word – that all of these black faces would presumably be happier if they had a bottle of Coke (or Pepsi) in hand. These people have no money – how can they be profitable to Coke or Pepsi? At the very least couldn’t the same truck that brings the posters and coolers bring improved seeds and mosquito nets?
****
While in a town in eastern Uganda, I listened to a group of 13 – 16 year old schoolgirls voice their questions, concerns and ideas about sex. The latest statistics report that young people in Uganda have “adequate” knowledge of HIV/AIDS and reproductive health. I was flabbergasted to hear what apparently constitutes “adequate” and what the USA insists on addressing by not mentioning sex:
“If you have sex and then you wash your vagina with coca-cola you won’t get pregnant. You can’t get pregnant while having sex standing. If you take Tylenol and you play sex you won’t get pregnant. Is it true that when you have sex and sperm enters you can drink coke soda and you will not get pregnant? Is it true that if you play sex with a virgin girl it cures AIDS? If someone pocks your anus you won’t get infected with AIDS or STDs? If you play sex when you are bored you won’t get AIDS? If you are 20 years old and a virgin you are abnormal? Is it true that if one does not have sex when 8 – 10 years old you are abnormal? People say that being a virgin is being remote and not knowing what the world is all about so I feel small to speak in public.”
****
Alongside traveling, I have also been working on a paper, the gist of which is…
The main driver of the continuing HIV/AIDS epidemic in Uganda is high-risk sex - precisely the kind of sex that “real men” have. I have been told by several men (married and single alike) that men like to “sample women” - they like to see what sex is like with a fat woman, a skinny woman, a woman with big hips, a tall woman, etc., etc. And that they never get tired of sampling. I have also been informed that condoms are unsatisfying as well as “foreign and artificial;” having more than one woman makes for “more of a man;” and that men are just doing what they can to be sure that every Ugandan woman is loved.
Given what I’ve heard and witnessed since being here I am convinced that the HIV epidemic will never end unless people start talking to men. The ways that so-called “risky” behavior is linked to masculinity need to be addressed. Both women and men are dying from HIV/AIDS and yet very few people are talking about men's roles, responsibilities and vulnerabilities. Men are not the problem per se but they do have an important part to play – in both the problem and the solution.
I spent a week in the southwestern corner of the country (as close to the Democratic Republic of the Congo as you can get without actually crossing the border). To get there we sped over the equator and by a herd of grazing zebras. Crossing into the region was a bit like crossing into Ireland - in every direction were rolling hills and constant green; banana trees are like grass, they cover every inch of land.
Another week was spent in the eastern regions of the country. There my eyes were drawn often to the slopes of Mount Elgon – the peak of which forms the border with Kenya. In town, the buildings, arcades, wide streets and roundabouts brought one word to mind: colony. The central landmark, a clock tower, is dedicated to King George. I half- expected to run into Meryl Streep and Robert Redford strolling down the street (a.k.a. “Out of Africa”, circa ~1910).
****
Much of my time “up county” (whether north or south, in the mountains or on the plains anywhere outside of Kampala is referred to as “up-country”) was spent traveling to the homes of people infected or affected by HIV. As we sped through towns, up hills and past homes there was so much to take in. I searched for clues of what people are doing; how they are living; and if they are living better or worse here than the last place we visited. I saw men gathered in trading centers sucking local brew from a shared pot (at 10am), women emerging from the fields with bushels of beans atop their head, children tugging at cattle and twisting at goats, men pushing bicycles weighted down with dozens of water cans, children lugging their weight in firewood, women hunched over small basins pounding the dust out of clothes, men playing checkers in storefronts, women nursing babies while grilling maize, small children carrying even smaller children, men packing flour into sacks, women dusting the dust off of dust.
When finally we reached our destination – often after walking up a small path, driving down a dirt road, turning off of a paved road – for a few brief moments I could see and hear more closely how people live. I noticed the quiet. I was surprised to step inside a rectangular mud hut and see walls; it is not just one big room. I smiled to see the outer walls of many homes adorned with “Happy Christmas” written with chalk in a child’s handwriting. I realized that what looks like sitting from the road is often people hard at work – shelling beans, braiding hair or tending children.
****
People barely have drinking water and surely don’t have electricity and yet even the most remote villages are part of the Coca Cola versus Pepsi battle. Red and blue posters and placards abound; a smiling white face says –without speaking a word – that all of these black faces would presumably be happier if they had a bottle of Coke (or Pepsi) in hand. These people have no money – how can they be profitable to Coke or Pepsi? At the very least couldn’t the same truck that brings the posters and coolers bring improved seeds and mosquito nets?
****
While in a town in eastern Uganda, I listened to a group of 13 – 16 year old schoolgirls voice their questions, concerns and ideas about sex. The latest statistics report that young people in Uganda have “adequate” knowledge of HIV/AIDS and reproductive health. I was flabbergasted to hear what apparently constitutes “adequate” and what the USA insists on addressing by not mentioning sex:
“If you have sex and then you wash your vagina with coca-cola you won’t get pregnant. You can’t get pregnant while having sex standing. If you take Tylenol and you play sex you won’t get pregnant. Is it true that when you have sex and sperm enters you can drink coke soda and you will not get pregnant? Is it true that if you play sex with a virgin girl it cures AIDS? If someone pocks your anus you won’t get infected with AIDS or STDs? If you play sex when you are bored you won’t get AIDS? If you are 20 years old and a virgin you are abnormal? Is it true that if one does not have sex when 8 – 10 years old you are abnormal? People say that being a virgin is being remote and not knowing what the world is all about so I feel small to speak in public.”
****
Alongside traveling, I have also been working on a paper, the gist of which is…
The main driver of the continuing HIV/AIDS epidemic in Uganda is high-risk sex - precisely the kind of sex that “real men” have. I have been told by several men (married and single alike) that men like to “sample women” - they like to see what sex is like with a fat woman, a skinny woman, a woman with big hips, a tall woman, etc., etc. And that they never get tired of sampling. I have also been informed that condoms are unsatisfying as well as “foreign and artificial;” having more than one woman makes for “more of a man;” and that men are just doing what they can to be sure that every Ugandan woman is loved.
Given what I’ve heard and witnessed since being here I am convinced that the HIV epidemic will never end unless people start talking to men. The ways that so-called “risky” behavior is linked to masculinity need to be addressed. Both women and men are dying from HIV/AIDS and yet very few people are talking about men's roles, responsibilities and vulnerabilities. Men are not the problem per se but they do have an important part to play – in both the problem and the solution.
posted by alicia at 9:24 AM
1 Comments:
The juxtaposition of grazing zebras and Ireland was a little startling, but fun all the same ;-)
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