It was a bone-rattling, white-knuckle drive that took two or three hours. I sat in the front and enjoyed the scenery when I didn’t feel like tossing my cookies. It was mostly red dirt road the whole way, with lots of obstacles to swerve around (people, pot-holes, animals). Walter and Emon told me that a couple years ago this road was virtually impassable due to the war, and extremely dangerous – yet
We drove through so many IDP camps that I lost count very quickly. We stopped in one and picked up the mystery girl. We also went through Acholi-Bur, which is the crossroads for Kitgum and Pader districts.
It was very green all around and there were some beautiful views – gently sloping hills, but you could see quite far; there were no huge trees. There was so much green land, but it just seemed empty. I guess this is because everyone has been forced to live in the camps. A huge track of land called Acholi Ranch was pointed out to me, and I heard mutterings between Walter and Emon that it is the source of lots of controversy. Apparently the Government is trying to sell the land. Now that’s justice – don’t protect the citizens, kick them off their land into internment camps (for their own “protection”) and then sell their only possession – their land – while they can’t even be there to protest. I think we need Dale Kerrigan to come to the rescue. I know that land is a huge issue all across
So we drove and drove and by 2:00 I felt very woozy and sick, but hungry as well (always an awesome combination), and dreading whatever Ugandan delicacy I was to be introduced to for lunch. I wished I had taken Gravol. I’ve never suffered from motion sickness, but it turns out that I’ve met my match with
At that point I very awkwardly ate a mango while a whole bunch of boys stared and me and giggled amongst themselves. They were very shy, though, and when I tried to approach them and take their pictures, they all ran like hell. I told Mum that I guess “point and shoot” doesn’t have the same connotation to them as it does to me!
We then walked to the LC III’s office (LCs are local councilors; the number indicates their level of authority), a concrete block down the road. We met the
When Emon introduced me, the VC seemed rather excited and said he could tell I was from
When we got up to leave, the door-handle came out of the door and we couldn’t get the door open – a reminder of feeling trapped, but also of the squalid conditions people live in here, yet they still manage to rally and cope and make their offices and involve themselves with each other. It’s so resilient; I probably would have given up long ago and gone to get drunk under some mango tree (well….okay, this happens a lot too). But we did manage to get out.
We drove into
By 4:30 we decided it was time for lunch, so we found a pork joint (ominously called ‘Ground Zero’) and ate roasted cassava, cabbage, and pork muchomo (bbq). Gloriously, I kept my over-active gag reflex in check!
The rains came down and soaked us at 5:00, and it was time to go [doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo - I bless the rains down in Africa!]. We left Jackie in town and drove towards Gulu as the sun set, stopping for our requisite mystery reasons along the way (‘oooh, grass! Let’s buy some!,' etc.). We stopped at one camp in Pader where about twenty boys all ran up to stare and point at me from either side of the truck. Believe it or not, this gets old really quickly. I waved at them and they laughed uproariously, being much less shy than the boys in Kitgum Matidi. I took out my camera and took some of those proverbial and probably exploitative “African children are fascinated” shots, but the awesome thing was that an older boy came up to me and took my picture as well – I thought that was so cool. He must have a hut with a dark room! Mystery girl told me that when I took the boys’ picture, two of the older ones said that I would probably sell the photos. Ah, the commodification of children in northern
1 comment:
I'll give you a dollar, Toto!
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