Life as mzungu

I have been in Uganda for slightly over one week now.  Slowly but surely (the mantra of my life) I am adjusting to the country that will keep me until the end of April.  My first few days were filled with orientation.  Orientation days are exciting and comforting because they remind me of starting college at home and allow me to become more acclimated to Uganda Christian University (UCU).  I have yet to maintain a consistent schedule, especially starting my first home-stay this past Saturday, but I have faith that by the end of the month my life will seem a little bit more normal.

It is bizarre to think that anything in this unfamiliar territory will become normal to me in such a short time frame.  In a sense, I have no other way to survive and make the most of my time here than to adapt.  I am terrible at making huge life changes; hence, I am predicting it is going to take me longer than some of my fellow sojourners to become acclimated to Uganda.  I have come to accept this fact because I am who I am regardless of cultural context and the best way to have the best experience possible is to challenge myself while still respecting myself. 

Last week, I started my first day as an intern.  I still cannot believe that I am an intern let alone that I get to have the experience of being an intern in Uganda.  I am at a Compassion International Child Development Center in the child survival program in a rural town about 40 minutes away from UCU.  The child survival program is the program before the child sponsorship program (which many of us are more familiar with) and this means that I get the privilege of working with mothers and babies.  Some of my key responsibilities include: leading activities for new mothers; training mothers in group and individuals sessions on heath, parenting, or other topics; providing support to mothers during home visits; monitor health and growth of babies; and other administrative tasks within the CDC office.  I absolutely love my placement and the staff who works so diligently with me.  My first few days at my internship were very interesting and I will most certainly be sharing more about my experiences at the site within future blog posts.

Now, let’s cut the small talk.  What is it like in Uganda, you ask?  My one word summary of Uganda: fufu (dust).  There is dust everywhere and I believe that even after I clean the dust upon returning home particles of Ugandan dirt will still remain in my lungs.  Ugandans are very sweet people.  They are gentle and soft-spoken.  I love this quality about many of their personalities (I do not want to generalize and state that all Ugandans are soft-spoken because that is definitely not the case) because I have a gentle personality as well.  Presence is a quality highly valued by many people, even if it means sitting in silence.  I love this aspect, too, because it allows me to feel less pressure to constantly maintain conversation.

It is very clear that I do not “belong” in this country.  I am what is called “mzungu”, or a white person.  My skin color is not the only aspect of my identity that causes me to stand out.  The fact that I cannot speak Luganda is very limiting in being able to fully interact with others.  We take for granted the ability to verbally communicate on a daily basis when surrounded by people who speak the same language as us.  How could I forget to mention that I also have the tendency to break cultural norms out of complete ignorance?  In every sense, I am an outsider. 

This is not the first time I have experienced what it means to be different from others, even within the United States, but it is the first time I have ever felt this type of difference.  At home, people identify me as Latina and I have particular expectations based upon this label.  In Colombia, others considered me to be one of them.  In Haiti, I was physically different but many of the people who we interacted with were used to working with white Americans, which made me feel more comfortable.  In India, I was very aware of my womanhood and the fact that I was an American woman made me the subject of many men’s stares/comments.  In Uganda, I am mzungu.  If someone wants to get my attention as I walk by, then I can tell by the consistent roars of, “Mzungu!  Mzungu!”  Mzungu is a loaded term with many expectations on the beholder and I am still trying to figure out what it means to be a mzungu in Uganda.  This experience is giving me a fuller picture of what it means to be different and the influence of context.

It is hard to describe a place or feeling to someone who has never experienced that particular place or similar feeling.  This may be what it is like in my future posts for many of you who have not been to Uganda or a country similar to it in East Africa.  I apologize.  I also apologize for not posting too many pictures.  I am working on learning how to take more pictures but I appreciate living in the moment without the lens, especially when the lens can intrude on people’s personal lives.  I will work on taking more pictures if you will work on meeting me in the middle through these experiences.  My life here is by no means profound.  In fact, it often feels mundane.  It is in the mundane that I am learning to find peace, restoration, and understanding.  I look forward to sharing more stories with you!

xoxo,

Emilia

My trip was made more financially affordable thanks to the Benjamin A. Gilman International Scholarship (http://www.iie.org/en/Programs/Gilman-Scholarship-Program)!