An American "Neighborhood?"

I was out walking around in a typical upstate New York neighborhood and something felt incredibly off. I could not really put my finger on it until I reached an empty playground. It was so quiet! That was it, there was barely any audible noise in the entire area. And there were no people anywhere to be seen. I was stunned. Where were all the kids and why weren’t any neighbors out gossiping or drinking some wine on their porch? Coming from Uganda, where the community is the centerpiece of almost everyone’s life, this was astonishing. But I have been trying very hard after coming back to America to not compare everything to Uganda. Two very different, well everything, after all. What I could compare this shell of a neighborhood to is what I grew up with. During the summer months, at ANY given time of the day or night, there were dozens of kids out and about doing kid stuff. Riding bikes, rollerblading, playing basketball, swimming, climbing trees, getting geared up for a game of manhunt. This was maybe 15 years ago; what happened!? What is the cause of death to the American neighborhood?

Upon walking further I eventually did come across some life: a woman walking her dog and a man jogging. My natural inclination was to say hello in a warm and open manner, yet they looked at me as if they were in as much anxiety had I been coming at them with a knife. I was so subdued by this that I actually felt a twinge of doubt in my own actions; is that not what I am supposed to do as an American citizen, greet my fellow humans? I quickly dismissed that and instead felt a bit of pity for these people. You can’t greet another human being with ease? Maybe there was something very troubling going on in both of these people’s lives and maybe they were distracted by that, caught off guard by a young man (yes mid-twenties still better be considered young) wearing pink shorts and a smile. But seriously, what has taken place in our society to get us to a point where we don’t communicate, we don’t hang out with or even know our closest living neighbors, and that we might actually come to fear meeting a stranger?

This has got to be the hardest part of readjusting to America for me. I have always been a social, people person. Then I went to a country filled with some of the most social, people persons I have ever met. Now I am back in a country with people who get the shakes at socializing. I am doomed. I want to say hello to everyone, I want to strike up a conversation with people I am sitting next to on the train, and most of all I want to laugh with total strangers because that is what people do. We connect. We socialize. We learn and grow from one another, regardless of where that other person comes from, what their skin color is, or if they have the worst B. O. imaginable. But I feel like I can not do that here without an awful lot of judgment and weird looks from people.

So what can I do about this to overcome it? I refuse to follow the lead of society and shun talking to other people. So maybe I need to look a little deeper at the causes and try to use some critical thinking to discover what modern American communities might need to inspire a little more human-on-human contact. In Uganda, there were tons of dukas (small shops) everywhere in a small community or village, where people would go to buy small and simple things they needed right away at home. There were also drinking circles everywhere, where the adults could gather to discuss whatever they pleased. Pretty much no one had water in their homes, so everyone had to walk to and wait at the nearest stream or borehole in order to get their fill, and in so doing created a space to catch up with the neighbors. Kids would find any patch of flat land and play football (sorry folks, soccer), since they did not have many other options like T.V. or videogames. Could any of those neighborhood staples be applied in the American context? How would one go about enticing children who DO have an abundance of isolation games to get outside and play some ball or ride a bike? Furthermore, how can you get people (I seriously can’t count how many people I am referring to who have told me this) who hate the outdoors, to leave their homes and get together? If you are one of those people you are probably saying, “this guy, why does he think anyone needs to be outdoors to be happy?” Well my dears, that is where we come from. I hate to break it to you, but we are made from the exact same organic matter as the trees, bugs, and your dog’s shit. The outdoors provide a free, healthy, open area for any number of people from anywhere to get together and do virtually anything. Why do you think America spent so much of our money on both National and Local parks and reservations? It is good for us! As a species and as a social group. But I am not really arguing for the outdoors right now, I don’t care if kids started playing and people started getting together in a giant covered ______, just as long as they are socializing.

Why socialize? When we spend too much time with ourselves, doing exactly what we want and getting everything we think we need and only listening to a few others, or ourselves we stop growing as individuals. We lose touch with our humanity and our ability to interact appropriately with others and the world. For centuries, people have inspired one another to do great and beautiful things. Think about stories or ideas that touch your heart or tear at your soul. They most likely came from an emotional connection or circumstance between two or more people. Most importantly, we need each other. As we all know, shit happens. But when you have a tight community around you, it can really soften the blow and help you handle or recover from whatever is happening. We don’t need any more heroes doing everything themselves, they only end up hurting those closest to them in the process. The feeling of being able to rely on your neighbors and the knowledge that they truly rely on you is so remarkable. It might even help to make a dent in all the pathological and psychological issues that are thriving in our culture right now. Perhaps if more people socialized and saw the human in one another, we might be a bit farther down the line in ending racism, classism, homophobia, and all other kinds of intolerance. I don’t really know. What I do know is that I want to make an honest effort in my next community to bring people together, empower each other, work with one another, and enjoy life as a group.

The best 5 months...and the last 5 months

Shortly after falling completely in love with Uganda the middle of my last year there, I began getting thoughts of sticking around. December was approaching way faster than I had anticipated and I knew I was not ready to say any final goodbyes to this beautiful country, my new home. I guess I wanted to get back the time that I had lost in the beginning of my service when I was going through culture shock and wanted to leave so badly. I was proud of myself for reaching a place of contentment and joy, after being in such a place of anxiety and confusion.  So in September I began talking to a few people in the office about the idea of me extending for a few months. It just made so much sense. I would not get into a classroom in the United States until September, so what was I going to do for 7 months? Why not use them productively and happily in Uganda. And that is what we planned out. My ticket to staying was going to be working with a team to design a series of regional youth trainings to take place for Volunteers, adults, and youth in their communities across the entire country. I was going to be able to take my experience with PYE and actually use it. Empowerment! After coming up with some final details, it felt so perfect and too good to be true; but it wasn’t!

It was decided that I would move to Kampala, that capital, and work from the Peace Corps office. I would be working directly with Phylicia, a stellar human being with whom I share so much in common in regards to philosophy, work ethic, and commitment to service. Our brains and hearts were instantly linked on this project from the start. It was going to be great. We teamed up with some other fabulous and creative Volunteers and began to dream our biggest dreams for Youth Empowerment in Uganda. The coolest part was that the ideas we were coming up with constantly changed and evolved. The more people we spoke with the better it got. But we all stuck to our core values and mission of making this project truly sustainable, by having it be Ugandan driven.  Our key partners, creators, designers, and implementers were Ugandan men and women who do this work for a living. We were really just there to create a space and link networks together. I think what made this project so successful was its integrity: it was about empowerment and everyone who participated was being empowered at every stage of its development. I had so much fun meeting dozens of influential and truly inspiring people from around the country, trading ideas. I was also spending all my time in the city and really getting back into a solid working vibe and fun after work routines. I loved life.

It is really hard to capture everything that went into this project. The hours, the weekends that were spent hole punching and collating, the ridiculous laughing at nothing, and the tears from how excited we were.  I gained such a newfound respect for the team of people in the Peace Corps office; they work so hard every day and care so much about Volunteers, but barely get noticed. I also gained a ton of great skills in project and training management. By the time our most crucial element arrived, the Training of Trainers, we were on Cloud 9. It was here that we realized for the first time what we had created. We brought together nearly 70 experts in various fields who would lead 90% of the training material and exercises in our four regional trainings. And in one week, we taught them about youth empowerment models, how to facilitate a session with activities and not lectures or presentations, and how to create a space where youth can feel heard and have fun at the same time. And they killed it! In that week there was more growth than I have ever seen from a group of participants in that amount of time. We truly had the right people. This was going to be epic.

It was a whirlwind of work and meetings and phone calls to put out fires until the four back-to-back trainings were on us. But eventually they came and we went into autopilot. Our work in training and planning was mostly over. Now we had to give up a good amount of control and let things happen, let our newly trained facilitators feel empowered and make the impact they so desperately wanted to make for their country. It was the most beautiful and inspiring series of events I have ever been a part of. I could probably write a novel just on all the experiences and events that happened at each training, but to sum it up I can just say we accomplished our goal of empowering people in a sustainable way at every level. Youth came out of their shells, teachers denounced corporal punishment and stigma of HIV, facilitators opened up to new ideas, and some of our youngest facilitators went from being shy, barely audible speakers to leaders in their own sessions that could truly deliver activities and information that left everyone informed and excited. The traveling circus of around 30 core facilitators that went to every training (close to 30 days straight) became something so strong and so liberated, we became a family. “Right here, right now, we found our community,” was truly our anthem. I learned so much in those last few months of my service and they forever left an impression with me about development, Uganda, and humanity. No matter what the circumstances, the environment, the resources, level of knowledge, or assumptions of you that other people will make, when someone is passionate about something they are unstoppable. And when enough passionate people get together, change can and does happen. I don’t know how much of an impact I made during my service in Uganda. But during this last project I am completely confidant that I was part of something truly magical and truly influential. The key was that I was not trying to do anything on my own, to be a champion or a hero. I was working alongside people who were much smarter and more creative than me, with just as much love and passion, and together we were able to make a difference.

Having to leave Uganda was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Those last few days were like a daze to me. I recalled what I was like when I was saying goodbye to my US home on my way to Uganda, crying non-stop and just feeling like I only half existed. The fact that I was having those same feelings for a country I did not grow up in really touched my heart and I can truly say I am very proud of myself for it. I have a family and a home in Uganda and I know for certain that I will be back at some point. I love you Uganda, I love you Peace Corps. Thank you for everything you have taught and given me. I went into this journey a kid, hoping to change the world and maybe learn a few things along the way. I came out an adult, knowing myself a little better, having learned more than I could possible have imagined about the world, and completely changed for good. I am now, finally, ready for my life. I am now ready to move into the next stage, take what I learned, apply it, and make a difference in my new community. Maybe I should rename my blog now that it is over. “The Adventure of a Lifetime;” it certainly was an adventure, but now it seems like my lifetime is THE adventure. And I am just getting started living it!

Completing one cycle, and moving on to the next one…

In December I officially finished my time with Mukuju. I had been with them for a full two school years and it was time for me to say goodbye. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. I went through a lot of ups and downs in my community and at my school, but through it all I came out a much more aware, sensitive, and I would say better human being. It was certainly rough many, many times. I was more often shaking my head and trying to escape what I couldn’t understand than I was integrating and appreciating what was around me, but despite that I managed to learn way more about life and myself than I ever could have hoped for.

In my two years, I had many failures and accomplishments. I went from wanting to go home after 3 months, to feeling like Uganda is my home and fearing what I was moving to in the US. I had numerous project ideas that were either shot down or just not successful. I had teachers tell me I don’t understand Africa. Fortunately I never got physically sick (except one bad case of Amoebas and some worms), but I most definitely got homesick. I witness caning, hunger, ignorance in abundance, abuse of power in every capacity, and a ton of avoidance of critical conversations. I also found the true meaning of success; when it is not something that I did that made an impact on the school, but something that I and the teachers created together, which impacted the entire community. I learned so much about patience, understanding that everything happens for a reason, and that I am capable of anything as long as I can manage expectations. I saw the most sincere love and generosity between community members that I have ever seen in my life. I saw the happiest, smiling faces on children who have so much “less” than American children. I played football with strangers, sat with friends for hours, and learned to stop saying no to opportunities just because I am unsure of myself or don’t think I would get anything out of it. More important that anything else, I exchanged honest and true culture with my community members. After becoming part of the community, a “white Ugandan” as I was once called, we were constantly learning from one another about how they do it in the other world. I was able to give a more accurate, yet still very personal, perspective of American life to my friends and family there; in return I received so much perspective on why life was the way it was in Uganda, really digging below the surface of all the troubling things that I simply could not wrap my head around on my own. Ultimately, I learned to give and receive and to understand how important both of those are for building relationships on this planet.

I also learned a lot about humanity. People around the world are all different, and all the same. I watched children learning how to swim and could have easily been in America. I had conversations with elderly Ugandans and easily could have been speaking with elderly Americans. I also heard language and expressions that were so bizarre to me that I thought I was on another planet. Yet, once I dug deeper the conversations these teenagers were having were the same conversations American teenagers have. I saw a lot of half-finished buildings, terrible roads, death and garbage right on the street, broken everything, homes made out of mud bricks with grass-thatched roofs, children naked and dirty, cars being pushed to start, getting water from rather questionable sources, carrying everything from food to furniture on top of heads, middle aged men passed out under a tree, young women passed out under a tree, children climbing mango trees with the finesse of tiny monkeys, and every range of emotion known to human beings. At first most of this amazed and shocked me. But eventually I began to understand something. This is the way people live here. It is different. It is not bad or wrong or worse than how I am used to living. It is just different. People still have shelter, they just choose to use local materials and build it themselves because they don’t have a lot of income to spend on a house—but it will last a lifetime. People still eat and cook food, they just grow it in their backyard because that is what people do; why spend a ton of money on groceries when you can go 10ft and get it for free? People like to relax and distress, so they do it sitting under a tree with shade or playing games with friends. People need water, but there is not always a secure and safe place to get it. So they get what they can and take it home to boil it and make it potable. Their lives are different, but not wrong. If anything, the way people live in most of Uganda is just more honest than how we live in America. Living is hard. It takes a lot of effort and resources for society to function and it is not always going to be perfect or pretty. Ugandans accept that and own that. And even despite the conditions they do live in, I swear to god I never stopped getting comments about how dirty or wrinkled my clothes were!

I witness and experienced an awful lot of disheartening and discouraging things while I was in Mukuju as well. Infrastructure is virtually non-existent and because of rampant corruption, nothing ever improves or gets done. The school system is a hot mess and no one is even talking about it. Power is abused left and right and it goes all the way from the top to the bottom. Someone at the top is getting their power taken away from them, so they have to do the same to the people below them to feel some level of pride. Right down to the kids who get beat so they go and beat animals. Sickness is everywhere and despite the large amounts of food, children are not getting nutrition. Very little access to safe water and virtually no one has electricity at home (yet every single person has a cell phone). On the flip side, I saw some of the most beautiful human moments of my life. There is no insurance there, so community and family members are that insurance. Someone needs money for their kids to go to school, everyone comes together to chip in. Someone dies and the family needs help to have a funeral, the schools and churches collect the smallest amounts from the children and parishioners to help make sure there is food at the funeral. Children do not have the option of asking mommy and daddy for toys, so they make their own from scraps of metal and tires they find in the trading center and it brings them so much joy and happiness it made me wonder why I never thought of doing that. You are a visitor? You are absolutely most welcome. Every house in my area was so happy and eager to invite me over and talk. Bonus was that I was definitely going to be served food, and tons of it. Does that happen in small American neighborhoods, overwhelming acceptance and curiosity of total strangers? If you live in a place like that please let me know, because I miss it every day. Are you going on public transport somewhere? Sure the ride is going to take you hours longer than it should, it will be hot, you will arrive filthy, and the road will be nauseating. But you will have amazing conversation the entire way, letting you forget the discomfort, and leave the taxi with 2-3+ new friends.

I will never forget Mukuju. I can hope they won’t forget me and that my work made some sort of an impact beyond my time there. But I know for sure they have made one on me. I will never look at the world in the same way, blindly assuming things or judging what I see based on appearances without questioning why it is that way. I won’t shrug people off as just another person, but will try to listen to them and get to know them because they are another person. I will strive not to take my family, friends, and community for granted anymore, because they are going to be the people that could really save my life if I ever get into serious trouble. I will hope to value difference and embrace it, because that is the beauty of life and that is the one thing that every single person on earth has in common: uniqueness in our experiences. I am also going to work, every day, at pushing myself and taking on challenges so that I can continue to grow and learn. Looking back, I could have left when it got difficult. The culture shock really did me in and if I had found a job to go home to I would have left. Then I would have missed everything. I would have left not knowing Uganda and having a total surface-level, and wrong, impression of it. I would also have not grown one bit beyond my comfort zone that I left for Peace Corps with, which would have meant I missed the point of going in the first place. So thank you to my friends and family back home for supporting me in my decision to go and encouraging me to stick it out and staying with me for the entire journey. Thank you to my friends and family in Uganda. You have taught be so much, experienced so much with me, and shaped my future. Beyond that, thank you for accepting a total stranger, embracing me, and loving me. Afwoyo swa swa swa.