My scorecard as a Volunteer

People I worked with

Dress is called kitenge

They saved lives

As my two years have come to an end, I ask myself... what have I really done here in Gulu?  My end-of-placement report of 33 pages (with pictures) says that I have: prepared process

couldn't send them to school

checklists, demonstrated that work is not your own creation but follows documented procedures, showed what is customer care, organized some workplace, and so on. I have been engaged also in what is called the Wider Role of  the Volunteer by making myself useful to the priests and nuns whose selflessness gave me inspiration.  But, I have not: built anything visible, saved a life in an operating room, taught the poor some  livelihood activities so they can eat beyond beans and posho, sent a single child to school by underwriting his school fees.

So, have I accomplished anything meaningful? Well, a Voluntary Service Overseas (VSO) brochure says, "to spend time in a developing country volunteering and sharing your experience is possibly one of the most rewarding things you can do. It is said we make a difference and so we do but, the biggest difference we make is to ourselves".

It's just the color of the skin

As a volunteer, I deliberately lived in an environment devoid of desire for things that I cannot have or do. I learned: to keep a healthy mind and body, (the stomach may grumble, bladder may begin to burst but they can be tamed by mind control), the virtue of patience, realizing that being impatient will not dramatically change my life (my endurance had been tested), that I am comfortable with abandonment of my identity, and the deeper appreciation of the simpler things in life.

white mosquito net,  now gray

What difference in me has this done for others? I made: simple people happier by giving them almost all the material things that I possessed here, some people display and be proud of their skills by patiently waiting for them to finish their work no matter how long it takes. 

Now you see him, now you don't

I showed them that it is only the color of my skin that is different. That in this global village, some countries are ahead but others (such as Uganda) will catch up.

From them, I learned: the bonding effect of prolonged greetings and handshake, to value the wisdom of elders, that responsibility for family extends to the whole clan, that yesterday and tomorrow are not as important as today, that in Africa, when you support someone, you don't stay in front or beside the person - you stay behind to provide that big push.

With youth groups

But the biggest payback I got was when a young man told me that he would want to marry a white woman like me. I said, well, are you willing to cook, wash clothes, and do other household chores because white women, unlike African women, expect their men to do these things, too. He said, he can learn. 

I had two very good years in Gulu, Uganda, East Africa.

One of them wants to marry a white woman

Gulu, an NGO town

Fairy Glen, Uig, Isle in the Skye, Scotland

While waiting at the pre-departure gate for my flight from London's Heathrow airport to Entebbe, Uganda, I was transported to reality.  I started seeing again some Africans after several days of watching tourists roam the streets of Edinburgh.  How colorful the African ladies dress-up compared with the pastels that Europeans prefer to wear.

Uganda, Queen Elizabeth National Park

I returned to Gulu with back-breaking pieces of luggage of canned and bottled sardines from Manila.  For 20 years up to 2008, Northern Uganda was a no-man's land.  Even Ugandan's feared traveling to the north, particularly the Acholi sub-region because of the presence of the Lord Resistance Army.  Children were

IDP camp housing

abducted and trained as LRA soldiers to go even against their

families.   My colleague told me that during those times, the days were short and they had learned to eat once a day.  At 4:00pm, people from the villages will start walking to town to find security.  They slept on pavements, in school houses, hospitals, churches.  It was estimated that some 15,000 to 40,000 children had walked to town to avoid being abducted and the episode was tagged as the Gulu Walk or Invisible Children. The world came to know of the situation when three foreigners visited the area and published what they saw. In 1996, the government of Uganda put in place a policy of forced displacement of the Acholi - putting around one million people in camps for internally displaced to better secure them from the insurgents.  It was said that 1,000 people were dying per week.  Sanitation was poor, food was short, schooling was disrupted.  International aid was flowing into the camps.  In 2009, the IDPs were closed following an experienced peace.  The government encouraged people to go back to their villages and resume their normal lives.  Children have to be given education.  Health centers have to set-up.  School houses and roads have to be built.  Sanitation has to be improved.  Clean water has to be accessible.

Vols from various organizations

People need to have the capacity to rebuild their lives, and institutions have to be equipped to provide services to all sectors.  International aid had shifted to rehabilitation, and international volunteers work with the locals to bring about sustainable development. In the UK, I see some charity organizations (such as Oxfam, Comic Relief, VSO) raise awareness to help.

We took the road less traveled

Scotland (with her glens and lochs) and Uganda (with her lakes and wildlife) have majestic natural landscapes.  

I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference. (A Road Not Taken, Robert Frost)

The Royal wedding and the African brides

What a beautiful sight

Uganda was a British protectorate from 1894 to 1962.  Queen Elizabeth last visited Uganda in
2007.  On 29 April 2011, the world witnessed the

The newly wed royals

spectacular wedding of Prince William, an heir to the British throne. I watched the wedding on BBC news in my Mac and I took the picture here from my computer monitor.  But

No balcony kiss to watch

Here comes the bride

and the noisemakers

I was able to watch an equally spectacular wedding at the Holy Rosary parish. The church offered a mass wedding to celebrate 100 years of faith in Gulu.  There were around 12

Fr Gino, Italian

couples who exchanged I dos under the sweltering midday sun.  It was very colorful and festive.  When it was the

Ready for the march

Sword formation

Fr Domingos, Portuguese

couples' turn to approach the officiating priest, their village mates will surround them and sound those bird calls. There was not much ground for a bridal march, but the last couple was pretty lucky because there was more space now between them and the priest.  It was either pure luck or some strings were pulled because the bridegroom was a military official, so he and his bride  had all the works.... bridal march, and a band to accompany the march.  There was even a sword formation.  The Comboni missionaries seemed very happy at the turn-out.  Fr. Domingos delivered the homily in Acholi language. He did not grope for words yet it lasted for 30 minutes.  After 4 hours in the sun, I was sun stroked and dehydrated.

I was not, of course, invited to any of the receptions.  But I cannot express enough the joy of witnessing how locals celebrate a grand occasion. 

The drummer girl