Spot checks, Stories & Spirits

Yesterday a group of us went to the field to spot check businesses that had recently received grants to ensure they're using the funds--and that the program is working--as intended.  It was an interesting day that resulted in a random collection of stories. As I think back it's surprising that it could all come from one 6 hour time frame! I don’t have any photos to share since I was on my own for a good part of it, and didn't want to make myself any more conspicuous, or attract any more attention, than I was already receiving.

Sharing of Plates – On our way to the field to do the spot checks, my coworkers shared some stories about their local culture. One had to do with how until recently (maybe in the last 5 years or so), before plastic was widely available, families had a very limited number of dishes. (Since such things were usually out of household's price range.) So it was very common that people shared plates. They told of tricks kids would play to try to get the best parts of the meal before their younger siblings. One example was when meat was served, the person who put the food on the plate would try to stow the meat away in the middle where it would remain hidden and also be too hot to the touch for the younger kids to eat (since people typically eat with their hands here). 

Roads including an HIV Component – As we passed through an area of road construction (which was desperately needed), one of my coworkers mentioned “these roads here have an HIV component.”  I was like, “What?”  He then proceeded to explain to me that now whenever roads are constructed or repaired in Uganda, the contracts require that an education campaign be included to inform the local young ladies living along the road’s path about the dangers of HIV. This apparently came about due to a history of road workers, who were a long way away from home and from their wives, engaging in sexual promiscuity in the neighborhoods along the roadside.

Conducting Spot Checks – Conducting the spot checks was an experience in itself. In order to check the maximum number of businesses, we divided and conquered. Thus, I was sent out on my own. I was armed with a local translator (because it would be useless for me to try to interview any business owners with only knowing “Hello” and “Thank you” in Ateso) and dropped off at a series of huts to get started.   

My translator was a teacher named Geoffrey who had been voluntold (I think) to assist me.  So off we went in search of the business owners.  You would think we'd know where to find them, but given there are no addresses in the rural villages where we work, you locate the program’s participants by asking anyone you see if they know where those you seek live. Then you walk in the direction you’re pointed until you need to ask someone again to find your way. So we set off wandering around the villages and eventually found, through a trial and error process, some of the business owners, who I then interviewed via the translator.

The presence of a mzungu in the community caused the typical stir and also spurred the usual parade of children as we made our way along the dirt paths through widely scattered clusters of mud huts and fields of crops. It was a sunny day, about 80+ degree weather, in a landscape that is transitioning to dry season. It was interesting to interview the business owners and to hear how they had used their grants and how the program was working for them.

Packing in the Pupils – As we plodded along, my translator explained to me the current state of education in Uganda.  He teaches English and Social Studies to children ranging in age from 7 to 14 in a private school.  (Private schools are definitely preferred here for those who can afford them.)  He has an average class size of around 45 which was substantially better than government/public schools that could have anywhere from 100-200 children in a single classroom. He explained that Uganda is attempting to provide universal primary education, which is subsidized by the government, but for which parents still have to pay school fees in order for their children to be able to attend.  He also explained that class levels had a range of ages, especially for girls, since not all girls were able to start school at the right time (due to many poor families not being able to afford school fees when needed).

Terrifying Toddlers – After we completed the spot checks, we were making our way back to the original compound where I was dropped off along a narrow footpath. Coming toward us down the path were two women and a small toddler.  As we neared them, from maybe a distance of 30 feet or so, the toddler ran to hide behind his mother’s skirt and began crying hysterically. I had an inkling it had something to do with me...  This was confirmed when my translator explained that the child was afraid of me, since children in that area rarely see white people.  The women found it amusing.  As we passed, the mother held her son up to me, so his face was about 1-2 feet from mine, so he could get a better look. This of course absolutely terrified him and made him cry even harder.  It’s not the first time, and likely not the last, that a small child here will be petrified by the sight of me.

The Devil Made Her Do It – After we got back to the drop off/pick up point, we joined a group of people in the shade of a grass thatched awning, which I learned was a church.  I called my colleagues to let them know we were done so they could come pick me up after completing their respective spot checks. While we waited, I attempted what small talk I could, which was not much given the language barrier. After a while, some of the women wandered away to the surrounding huts and started singing church hymns.  All was calm and peaceful, so I chillaxed with the group.  Then a woman starting wailing loudly. I turned around to see her hysterical and crawling on her hands and knees through the threshold into one of the huts. The few men sitting under the awning with me seemed unfazed.  I wanted to be culturally sensitive, so I too acted like nothing was happening.  However, after 20-30 minutes of listening to the howling coming from the hut, I whispered to my translator “Is she ok?” I was thinking she must be in labor, maybe it’s a breach birth or something??  He said, “Oh yes, she is fine. It’s the evil spirits being removed from her.”  I was like “Oh, ok.” Then I thought, when the heck is that car going to get here?!?  Ten or so minutes of screaming later, and an assurance from one of the men “Don’t worry, you are safe” and my coworkers finally arrived to pick me up, and we were on our way.  

It was quite an eventful day!  And who knew I’d even get to experience an exorcism?!