Men, the spice of my life

I had posted a lot of pictures and stories about women and children.  My blog will not be complete if I don't talk about the

Look at the perfect posture

interesting men that I had met in my African adventure. 

Pete is British and our boss in VSO Uganda.   I like his decisiveness, collaborative style, and consistent transparency.  Whenever I want to feel good, I send him an email on what I have done and he will surely respond in a very encouraging way.

Always carries a notebook

Bernard is Ugandan and a civil servant in the Gulu District Office. I like his insatiable quest for knowledge and his work ethics.   He can talk about history and modern times.  Whenever he traveled around Gulu and he thinks that I will be interested, he tagged me along. 

11 years in Uganda

Fr. Domingos, a Portuguese,  is a Comboni missionary.  Whenever I don't understand Africans, I report to him like a schoolgirl who was reprimanded by the principal.  Filipinos being a spiritual lot, I can't help but think that his coming to and leaving Gulu at almost the same time that I did was part of the African gift from Someone - a gift I intend to keep.   He had given me both spiritual and intellectual enlightenment.   He is a good administrator,  and very much dedicated to his vocation.

Jean (center), with his son, Mardi

Jean is Congolese and looked like a Marlboro man when I first met him.  He exudes self-confidence and although the Demoractic Republic of Congo is French-speaking, he speaks English with an American accent.  He is a math teacher and a tanner.... a skill he learned from an American volunteer.  He crosses into the border town of Uganda in his motorbike to get his mails from the post office.  

He likes this photo 

Pius is Kenyan and my co-volunteer.  He is my barkada and every Sunday after we hear mass, we commit sin by drinking 2 rounds of beer.  But now, he only drinks Coke because his uric acid is high.

I would love to sit on the beach with each of them, sip rum and coke, and learn more about what is in their hearts and mind.  But Uganda has no beaches and these gentlemen  probably have no time for idle talk.  I am happy enough to have met them along the way.   But should they come to the Philippines, I will take them to the beaches of Boracay, El Nido, Puerto Galera.  Sip buko juice, watch the sunset  and reminisce about Africa.

Gino, Charlie, Yori

And, of course, the men of my life.  They have kept the stove warm at home -  a task otherwise done by the women of the house; one had gone to hot Africa, and the other, to cold Scotland.  They shall return as it is more Fun in the Philippines.

Walking tricks

With Pius after Sunday mass

How do you survive two years of your life knowing that you can only be regularly mobile by walking?  Well, you only go to places that you can reach by footing (as they say here) at daytime.

Walk  2kms. 30mins.

You just have to brave the heat, dust, potholes, manholes, mud, rubbish, reckless drivers and the monotony of the same route that you take.  With my signature hat and Rusty Lopez safety shoes, I conquered daily the hostile streets of Gulu by mind control.

Destination reached

My trick was not to look at the distance to the destination.  Since I am pretty sure of the direction, I just focus on my steps; making

Fit to climb hills

sure I don't trip but at the same time being aware that I don't get hit by boda-bodas, automobiles, carts and bicycles with over-sized cargoes.  It can actually be dizzying if your mind is empty.  So I preoccupy myself with minute things such

See the tan? 

as, when I reach the office who should I greet first - what should I say this time?  Or I have that email to send - how should I phrase
it, what words should I use?  Keep on revising and before you know it, you have reached your destination.  I don't think about big things

Supple legs, eh?

because I will tend to rush to confront them and I would begin to realize how long and tiresome the walk takes.  Now, my legs are supple, I have a good tan, and I have shed 5 inches from my waistline.  Will I stick to walking back home when I return?  Frankly, I don't know, but perhaps for health reasons, I might.

Get-up for special occasions reached by footing

The women of Acholiland

Where have all the men gone?

Before coming to Uganda, I did not have any idea of what gender inequality was in this day and age.  In the Philippines, women are generally empowered both at home and at work.  It is even said that

Chivalry?

Filipino men have asthma, because for any domestic decisions to be made, their favorite reply is "Ask my wife".  In Uganda, particularly the Acholi sub-region of the north, most women have accepted the fact that since time immemorial they have been considered and treated as properties.  Although some women's groups have emerged to advocate for gender equality, this is still a long work-in-progress for their laws to be changed and for their society to adopt the change.  One day, I asked a companion why in the vast tract of farmland, I see only women and children toiling - where are the men?  Oh, they are somewhere, drinking.  Women do the housework, bear children, work in the farm or quarry.  Even children do not belong to the wife; they belong to the husband.  Take land ownership.  Most of the land in Acholi is customary land; it belongs to the clan.  There is no need for a title because the land is not supposed to be sold.  But the tragedy is that wives have no claim to it for fear that when she re-marries, the land will pass on to the new husband who does not even belong to the clan. When the wife loses her husband and children, she has no right to stay in that land.

Homeless widows?

When women wonder, the answer they get is:  How can a property own a property?   

A pilgrim's tale

Throngs of pilgrims. Far left is the Basilica Church.

The most recent time when I feared for my life was last 3 June 2012 at Uganda's celebration of Martyrs' Day.  There were around 1.5 million pilgrims trying to enter the grounds of the Basilica Church at Namugongo, outside

I got in alive

Joyce sits the Asian way

Kampala.  At the only gate, the police were doing a rigid physical security check because a suspected Somali terrorist had entered Uganda 2 days before.  There was no formal queue and people just dodged whoever was in front of them.  When the police push the people

Priests giving communion

it had a domino effect but no one fell;  there was just no ground so everyone ended up being squeezed.  My shoulder was in somebody's

Umbrella for a prelate

neck, and my neck was in someone's hair.  My chest was being torn apart and I had to hold my head high to catch some breathe.  It was badly disorganized.  Joyce and I managed to get inside and found a space to stand so we can hear the mass.  Martyrs' Day is celebrated every year in Uganda to commemorate the 22 Catholic martyrs who were either dismembered, beheaded, burned, speared, castrated by the Buganda prince Mwanga in 1886.  Pope Paul VI canonized the martyrs in 1964.  Catholics from neighboring countries make the pilgrimage mostly traveling on foot for several days to reach the shrine.  Most pilgrims carry jerry jugs as containers for water to be taken from the shrine's lake.

Scooping the "miraculous" water from the lake

Many believe that it is miraculous water of unknown origin, but the priests keep on reminding the pilgrims that it is a man-made lake which used to be a fish pond.  I know someone who drinks the water to cure his sickle cells condition.  

Faith can move mountains.