Coming Home

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So over half a year since I returned, and about as long since my last, I have finally got around to putting up my last blog. I have also managed to write up some of the entries I had in notebooks; it feels like some kind of closure. For anyone thinking of doing anything similar, I would recommend writing as a form of keeping your sanity and adjusting to a different life. The longer I was in away the less it became a necessity and more a pleasure but it always offered a way of releasing scrambled, often contradictory, thoughts. Even if it didn't always make sense of them, at least seeing that they were not as weird and ridiculous as they had seemed in my head offered some consolation.

Whilst I have bleated on for months about the many differences between Uganda and the West perhaps the biggest thing I have taken away from my experience is that, if you look past some superficial layers, we are fairly similar. If I were to weigh everything up I definitely think that there is more that binds us than separates us.

I remember very early in my stay a local politician was explaining to me that Ugandans weren’t very patriotic. “What you have understand is that a Ugandan first of all thinks of himself, then his family, then your clan, then tribe, then maybe friends and neighbours – only after that would you start to think of Uganda.” I remember thinking at the time that statement could probably be applied across the world. Many Ugandans, however, found it remarkable that anyone could give a shit about people halfway across the world. They could not see how it could possibly serve selfish interests; how once people meet their basic needs they are motivated by other things the need to explore, to influence other people.

Perhaps the most significant similarity for me is that the poor and the rich share many of the same characteristics everywhere I have been. I remember a colleague of mine being enthusiastic about my trip to Uganda as I was going somewhere ‘people really appreciate you trying to help them’. Subconsciously I probably shared this view and that the third world would be more grateful for my help. People in Uganda, however, get similarly frustrated that you cannot sponsor their child, pay for their football team, give them a computer or build them a house as people I worked with in Britain did that I couldn’t get them a job or couldn’t get them any additional money. It may be the advent of globalisation or the proliferation of aid and charity across Uganda but I found expectations on me easily as high as in the UK, perhaps more so as a white westerner.

It was easy to trace a line of characteristics of poorer people in England: larger families, closer communities, prioritising short-term interests, more intolerance, more friendliness, greater faith in religion and culture. People were poorer in the Uganda so the characteristics were clearer and hence it made this behaviour even more understandable.

The similarities between the rich and powerful were perhaps more obvious between the two. A shared culture of Western goods, good education, knowledge of the outside world and perfect English meant that there is not too much of a culture shock into wealthy Uganda society.

It was, however, more surprising. No one told me there were going to be so many rich people; they are never on the TV or in anything I read before I set off. In fact, such was my shock at seeing the 1% wealthy that it is only really since I’ve come back to England that I realise how much poorer the remaining 99% were.

For both rich and poor, one of the biggest ‘discoveries’ for me in Uganda was the enduring human instinct for survival. This is not to say that millions of people were starving, or fighting for their next drop of water. For the most part, they weren’t. It was that life felt more stripped down to the bare bones with fewer credit cards, high-tech cars and gadgets, media and campaign groups telling you about something else you need to worry about meaning you can see more clearly the things that were required to stay alive.

Survival amongst poorer communities meant sharing. If a neighbour was suffering you would help them out – give them a meal, lend some money, take in their children. I am not so cynical to say that this wasn’t partly because people were nice but it was also because they needed to – it could be your harvest that failed next or your husband that died and you would rely on their help to survive. People have larger families as they know fewer will survive; they need more bodies to farm and work. Richer Ugandans and Westerners would often bemoan a lack of a saving culture amongst ordinary people but when life is more precarious there is less incentive to save.

It was easy to see how the rich and powerful in Uganda retained those instincts. They shared when it was required to retain power but they couldn’t do it all the time – people would have come from all over. Tastes become more expensive, more Western, items such as a TV, a mobile, a computer, a car become needed. Charity and philanthropy are good but not at the expense of your own position.

They became isolated from ordinary people as they no longer ‘needed’ them. They became scared that people were trying to steal their wealth, often with some justification. Big walls, barbed wire and security guards came up – a physical manifestation of their move into a different community. In Kazo they would call people ‘proud’ when they were seen to have left the community.

I am aware that this is not unique to Uganda, it just happened to be the place where I could see it most clearly. As I have returned to a Britain full of cuts and 'belt-tightening', it is useful for me to remember that only a few struggle for physical survival, especially in a wealthy country. Mental survival, however, is a different matter and I think as many people struggle to 'cope' in the UK.

By far and away the thing I will miss the most about Uganda are friends, people that I know I am unlikely to see again and have shown kindness and openness that I have never experienced before. Having been back a few months now, I am also now yearning for the weather. The variety of the English weather was endearing for a while, and then I realised that there was no variety as it rained and rained. I miss the pace of life and the ability to relax. Work and life could be stressful but there were certainly fewer things that ‘needed doing’ and fewer people that seemed permanently anxious or stressed about life.

Perhaps the most surprising thing I miss is economic opportunity. Nearly everyone in Uganda had a business of some kind. With a little money, possibilities were everywhere. Investing in a vehicle would allow you to make money by moving something from where it was grown or produced to where it was sold. Land was cheap and with the population growing so rapidly was becoming more expensive. Keeping chickens, goats, sheep, cows – I could tell you the mark up and profit margins of them all.

Ironically the friends of mine who could have gone to the UK, did not want to. “What would I do there?” one said. “Here I have my goats, my cows, chickens. I know how to make money…” Another, a web designer, was talking about getting business in Kenya, “I get paid a quarter of what I do here. In the UK, everyone can do what I do.” Increasingly, he was visiting Sudan and Northern Uganda for more ‘untapped’ markets.

I will end with what I won’t miss. I find it very frustrating hearing people talking about their time abroad and how it was much better than living in Britain. I always think, “Why did you come back then?” For me, I didn't not really want to be working in the NGO 'industry' and there was little else I could offer other emloyers. I also missed friends, family and 'Western comforts'.

Most of all though, it was a sense of belonging. Even by the end of my stay, I could walk down the street and people would still stare and shout. People would still talk to me about their country as if I knew nothing about it and many would just want to ask me about how they could get to the UK. I never resented it but I realised I would never ‘fit in’. In England, I may walk down the street, sit on the bus and no one will say a word to me but there is some unexplainable comfort in feeling that I am the same as everyone else. I am home.

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Photos

Football
Some of the football team, warming down after a hard match against the trainee priests

Tonny and Farai
Tonny and Farai from the office on my birthday

The Boys
The heart of the pork crew - Tonny, Emma, Josh and Zac out on my birthday

New Centre with Alex and Ronald
The newly rented and refurbished UYWEFA Education Centre with UYWEFA Director Ronald and volunteer Alex. Proud to see it up before I left.

The Fam at the Zoo
My housemates (minus Lauren). Gerald (worked with Lauren), Betty, Tiffany, Me and Amber. Kimby (right of the little people) is Betty's son and general favourite of all visitors!