There is an old Peace Corps saying that says:

“Volunteers who go to South America come back to the States politically active, volunteers who go to Southeast Asia return spiritually aware and curious, and volunteers who go to Africa?-They come back laughing.”

About a year and a half ago I showed up in Uganda with a certain naivety and much excitement for the adventure I was about to begin. I had the hope of improving the lives of those in which I would be working and truly making a difference. I was surprised when I met volunteers who had been in country for over a year; they seemed like they didn’t want to be there or that they felt like they were not making a difference. Many of them drank a lot and others seemed to be unnessesaryily rude to the locals. It was incredibly baffling to me to find these qualities in a Peace Corps volunteer.

There were stories of volunteers keeping bottles of local whisky under their pillow at night. Stories of volunteers yelling at locals for any number of reasons. Stories of volunteers seeking anger management. My friend and I used to laugh about these things thinking these volunteers were crazy. However, now, after a year and a half, we get it. We understand the anger and the reasons why these people may want to drink.

I don’t know why it has taken me so long to understand. Perhaps it has taken this long to truly understand what is going on around me. Perhaps it is the large amount of failures and the few successes that have led me to reevaluate what I am doing in this foreign land away from my family and friends.

I know I haven’t wrote about some of my challenges that I feel have made me become somehow “crazy” so I will take the time to do so now.

Recently one of my best friends in the village was accused of beating his half brother. However, during the time of the supposed attack he was with me and about ten other villagers. At first I thought nothing of it. There is no way Ntale could be found guilty with all of these witnesses. I went to the police to see the report made by the brother. I explained to the police that Ntale was with me and others and that I would pay for his transport to come talk to all the witnesses; he told me he would. Two days later on the day we had decided he would come, I went to pick him up. He tells me he will not come and that there is no doubt that Ntale is guilty. That we are welcome to take the case to court, but that he is going to lose. He says that I should just pay the brother money. He then shut a door in my face. At this point the police man had never talked to anyone but the brother. Clearly he had been paid by the brother.

A couple days later Ntale decides to leave because his only other option is to go to jail. The police show up at my house before seven in the morning looking for him telling me I need to find him and bring him in. I was irate. They want me to do their job for them?

So, Ntale has been gone for a month now. Just the other day I was told that the brother “knows” that Ntale is living with me and that he is going to bring the police to search my house. Now, this is just the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I live in a duplex with five other teachers and people are always around my house. Wouldn’t a rational person think that someone would have seen him in the last month? I am almost positive that if the police show up at my house again I am going to lose it just like those other volunteers.

Somehow I ended up with two dogs. Okay, so I am a sucker. That is how it happened. Mugezi is perfectly mannered and the village loves her. Fence (previously named Defense by someone other than me) is a little on the wild side. He used to be perfectly mannered, but the kids in the village love to tease him. I have caught them throwing rocks at him and barking at him. He has always loved to chase the kids, but now because they have annoyed him so much he sometimes gets a bit aggressive. I have had to keep him tied to prevent him from potentially hurting the innocent kids, but the mean kids love to take advantage of this. Yesterday, as usual, I found some kids up a tree yelling his name trying to get him to try to come after them or start barking. I have started threatening them that if they annoy my dog I am going to let him off his leash. I’m not sure what will happen if I do. He may bite them or he may just chase them a bit, but as far as I am concerned they asked for it. I know, it is mean and that it is going to end up with them in tears, but it gets old and I do not want to have a mean dog because they think they are funny.

Many Ugandans think it is entertaining when things smaller than them suffer. The other day a dog bit Fence on the leg and he was holding his paw in the air while crying. The owners of the dog that bit him could not stop laughing. They thought it was so funny that Fence was crying. I yelled at them and told them they had bad manners. I would have never done that a year ago, but after a year and a half of watching Ugandans beat children and animals and laugh I am losing it. It makes me so angry.

Somedays I just need time to myself. I want to stop being the prize muzungu and just be a normal person. I want to be able to go to an event and not be asked to give a speech, I don’t want to be asked for money, and I don’t want to be stared at everywhere I go. Ugandans are always greeting one another with these long elaborate greetings, but I feel that I get greeted more than the average person. I understand that it is a very friendly gesture, but it can become tedious. The greetings start out by asking how you are, thanking you for the work, asking how the dogs are, and asking where I am going.

I was having a bad day and just wanted to be alone so I took the dogs and decided to walk up the hill behind my house. Ten minutes into the walk I realized it was a bad idea. I had already been stopped five times to great people. A half hour later I made it to the top of the hill around the time secondary school students are making their way home from school. I make my way to the backside of a church to try enjoy the view and much needed alone time. No such luck. Three students follow me and begin to stare at me. I don’t mean they looked at me for a few seconds too long, I mean they stared at me for ten minutes. I gave up and decided to walk back home, but they followed me and told me to give them my dog. This again, is a compliment. It is a way of saying that they admire my dogs, but when you are used to hearing “Muzungu give me this give me that” it is hard to hear the compliment. On a normal day my response is, “If I give you my dog I will cry because she is like my baby.” Usually this makes us both laugh. However, this isn’t a normal day so my mean side came out and I said, “If you want my dog come take him, but just so you know he is going to bite you.” When they hesitate I walk towards them insisting they take “their” dog until they run away. I know. I know. I am awful, but please try to imagine a life in which you have no alone time and someone is always wanting something from you. Sometimes you just lose it.

The teachers I have come to train do not want my help. Most of them do not want to be teachers in the first place so to ask them to do their job well is asking way too much. I am always told, “Nalubega, that may work for your white children, but African children are stubborn and need to be beat.” I watch teachers physically and verbally abuse children almost on a daily basis. No matter what I have tried to change their minds it has not worked. I love these kids and in the year and a half I have known them I have learned more about them than their teachers have learned in five years. I could tell you where most of them live, who they live with, what is going on at home, and usually their dog’s name. If they ever are in trouble they come to me. To invest so much in these children’s lives trying to help them have confidence in themselves and then watch their teachers destroy it is difficult.

Ugandans love to tell me what I don’t know how to do even when I am doing it just fine. This partly comes from their belief that we have machines to do everything for us, which is somehow true, but also because they believe there is only one way to do everything. So, I am always hearing things like “You don’t know how to [insert verb here].” Things I don’t know how to do according to Ugandans are, but not limited to, holding a hoe, moping, eating, pealing, running, riding a bike, swimming, driving, and bathing.

Those are just a few of my challenges. I could go on, but then you would probably call me Negative Nancy and I would prefer if you didn’t. While some of you may be thinking I have lost my mind, others of you may understand how these things could make one a little crazy. For those of you who understand you may be wondering what I am still doing here. So, let me talk about what I love about Uganda and what keeps me here.

The other day I went on a field-trip with the school to visit another school. The vehicle that was picking us was two hours late. Once it arrived seventy students and ten teachers were packed into the back of a cattle truck. With the dust flying around us while the kids are singing, we are on our way. Five minutes later the truck is making its way up the hill and then the engine dies. We all file off and wait and then wait even longer. We waited for over two hours. Once the new truck comes we pile back in. Again we are making our way through the dust. We come to stop again. This time the tire has blown a mile away from the school and we need to walk in the afternoon heat the remainder of the way.

Once we reached, five and a half hours late, the students sang some songs, competed in a quiz bowl, played netball and football, and we ate food. We were only there for a few hours before it was time to pack back into the vehicle. As we are leaving the sun is setting, the air is cool, and the kids are signing Radio and Weasel (most likely upon my request). At that moment I realized there is no place I would rather be than with my newfound friends enjoying the day and then something hits me in the head. I turn to the teacher and ask him what is happening and he tells me we are being stoned. Sure enough I turn around to see kids throwing rocks and sticks at our vehicle. I could get annoyed about this, but the kids only took a break from their song, before returning to singing louder than before. That is thing thing about this day. To Americans this sounds like an awful day, but to Ugandans it was okay. No one was in a hurry; they were just happy to be able to go on this trip and enjoy one another’s company.

Every morning I take the dogs and we help my friend Tony take twenty cows out to pasture. I started going because we walk through empty fields where the dogs are able to run without annoying anyone. Usually I leave with Tony, but we meet up with a few others. After the cows are in the pasture we sit around and watch the dogs play and swim in the ponds. Even though my herding friends do not know much English and my Luganda is far from fluent we are able to communicate and we spend most of our time laughing. Tony and the others have come to love Mugezi and Fence. Even on days in which I am not able to go they take them with them. While there are many people in the village who do not understand the way many Americans feel about dogs, these friends of mine understand and I love spending a bit of time with them everyday

The students at the school are some of the most amazing kids I have ever met. For those of you who have been lucky enough to meet them, you know exactly what I am talking about. When they find me running in the mornings while on their way to school they will run with me, even if they are carrying a chicken. If they find me carrying something, no matter how small, they will insist on carrying it for me. When I ask them to do something for me and want to pay them they will tell me that they are a volunteer, a word that I taught them. They are always dancing and singing. Simply put, they are incredible and make me laugh every day.

While there are few very rotten people in my village, most of them are incredible and do everything they can to make me feel welcome and at home. Carol’s family has become my family away from home. If I am not around they take care of my house and dogs. If I come home late they will bring me food. When I am bored I can sit at their house for hours and when they are bored they come sit at mine. Whenever I need help I can ask them. Whenever they need help they can ask me. My life here is easier because I know them.

While I have failed in many things I know I have changed some of the lives I came to change. In no way am I doing it in the way I thought I would, but I am doing it. I know that I have made some people’s lives a bit brighter. While I may not necessarily see the differences now, I think that if I were to come back in ten years I would see them. I once read a quote that said, “To know that one has breathed easier because you have lived is to succeed.” If that is the measure of success then I have surely succeeded.


Which brings me back to the original quote. I get it. I understand why they would say that volunteers serving in Africa return home laughing. Because it is the only thing you can do. Either you laugh about the craziness and injustice of this place or you get mad, but even when you get mad you cannot stay mad because mixed in with all the bad there is so much good; it is just hard to see sometimes.

I hope this message has found you all under sunny skies!

Peace and love,

Autumn