Sunday, June 8, 2008

5/30 to 6/1 (continued)

Here are two other things that Africans value:


Family
On touching down in Nairobi, I had my first exposure to NTV (Nairobi TV). It was airing an hour-long expose on marriage. How to do it, what to consider, its sanctity and value. There were guest speakers and questions from the viewing audience. It made some sense. The African (Banjul) Charter on Human and People's Rights gives States a mandate to protect the family unit. Article 18. So I was not surprised that when I reached Uganda, most locals that I spoke with who were my age were also married.

"Will people think I'm strange for being single?" I asked Vincent as we drove home from the airport.

"No," he replied. "We do not interfere with your personal business. But you will get proposals." And then he laughed and laughed and laughed until I about melted into the car seat.


Land
At one point on the ride to Kampala, I started talking to Vincent about my Sudanese land project.

"Maybe I can help you with that," he said. "We are very much similar in Uganda, eh? More so than in the United States. You use money, yeah? But for us, money is not always good. If you have land, that is something to pass on to your children. That is the only way you are sure of wealth. Land is very important, and people get very, very excited about it."


(At this point writing in my journal, I fell asleep.)


The sun just came up. You should hear the birds outside! They almost sound like monkeys. Folks at the health club where I'm staying have already started blasting Afropop in the pool area outside my bathroom window. Heck, that started before the sun came up. Now I can hear car horns tooting, too. That's what they do, says Vincent. They don't honk, they toot. Cute.


(Another gap in time)


I tried to eat a little bit today, and it really made my stomach feel better. Asia came by and taught me how to take the matatu into Kampala. Now if I can figure out where the UCICC is, I'll be set. Sort of.

I need a few things. A purse. Better walking shoes. And most of all, a wedding band. A guy today on the matatu wanted to take me out. I said I didn't have the time, but he literally followed me home. It was creepy. I hid for a while in the ladies' room downstairs in the gym, but he waited outside for a long time. Asia finally told him off. So as of now, I have decided that I am officially married.

Michael, darling, do you remember where we took our honeymoon? (Ahem, I hope you're not mortally offended that I married you without asking your permission.) By the way, you might want to take some anger management classes, because your jealous streak has just become extremely violent. Just let me know if you want to move in to Ntinda. The flights aren't that bad, and I have a spare bed with a mosquito net and everything.

Sigh.

I have to get brave enough to go out on my own. It's just hard, trying to parse together the heavy English and explain everything I say. Conversations are repetitive and exhausting. Being outside is strange in itself. The clay earth turns into dust without rain, and the dust blows into every orifice. Sometimes it feels like my teeth are coated with it. And then when it rains, everything turns to slippery mud. So wears thin the veil of optimism. It's late and I'm hungry again, but I can't just go out and pick up a microwave dinner. I really don't want more bananas and bread. What will I feel like in six weeks? I have no friends here, little money, and only a thread of language. I think I'm going to go watch season three of Battlestar Galactica. Maybe that will make me feel better.

You know what I want? A Ugandan woman to be my friend. My banking problems resolved. Not to feel trapped behind a mosquito net, three locked doors and a guard with a rifle. Why do I always have to be the scared one? Why can't I be free-spirited and adventurous, like Professor Burke-White and Asia?

Well, I wanted to face my demons, and here they are. Just wish I could stop crapping long enough to stare them down.


(A day goes by.)


I prayed today for the first time in aeons. Seemed appropriate. I asked for a Ugandan friend -- a woman I would feel safe around. Then I proceeded to hide in my bedroom all day.

Around five p.m., the cleaning lady called from the door. "Hello! Are you there?" Jamira wanted to know why I hadn't come out of my room for three days, and whether I was bored. "You have to move about Uganda," she said, and she took me out tot he grocery store and sat with me for dinner. I bought food for both of us. Tried goat meat for the first time, and this cooked banana mush called mtoke. Darn fine stuff! And not just because I'm eating a meal a day.

Jamira and I talked about school and family and traveling and money. "Uganda is so poor!" she said. I respectfully disagree. It's true that there is no money here, but you have only to smell the grass at night after a rain, hear drums of the nightclubs down the streets, or watch the children run around laughing. This country is rich in land, spirit, and family in ways that put the USA to shame. Jamira thinks I'm nuts for saying so. Maybe I am.

Anyway, I'm thankful for the friend. I had a good evening walk, too. People wander up and down the streets, crowds cluster around plastic tables and swell out of bars. Feels like college nights in Hollywood, smells like jasmine.

I still haven't heard about my luggage.

Am reviewing material about the ICC before work tomorrow. Lord knows, with my sorry test performance in Public International Law, I need it. I feel like I understand this stuff well enough, though: the beginnings of formal international criminal proceedings at Nuremberg, the justifiable criticism that such trials represented victor's justice, the attempts to codify internationally criminal acts and subsequent penalties to avoid future critique, the advent of international criminal tribunals such as the Internantional Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia and the International Criminal Tribuna for Rwanda, their expense, the eventual signing and ratification of the Rome Statute, the U.S. abstention and fears, and the problems reconciling peace and justice.

I have read Kony's indictment. I know that the ICC has jurisdiction over genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity, and crimes of aggression. I know that the Coalition for the International Criminal Court was a lobbying force for the ICC, and now serves as a public educator and advocate. I'm honored to play the tiniest role.

What else should I learn? Besides how to get to work, of course. Sigh.

Random aside: I am journaling beneath my mosquito net right now and still can't kick the feeling that I am trapped inside a nylon stocking.

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