Monday, September 7

I have learned more in the past few hours in my homestay than I have the entire time I’ve been here – about Uganda, human rights, the war, Acholi culture, etc etc.

I’m living in Laroo, which is near Gulu University. My host family has a small house, but no electricity or running water. There is a sitting room with couches, which seems to be the center of family life, at least for the men (and visitors like me – though I’m hoping that at some point they will stop giving me the special treatment of a visitor). I have a room to myself, with a bed, mosquito net, and a desk (they have also helpfully provided me with a bucket so that I don’t have to walk all the way to the latrine at night, but then they said that they would use this bucket for other stuff through the day…). Behind this house, my host father’s brother is building a house, and meanwhile he and his family is living in a clay hut with a grass roof. There are a couple of other clay huts, but I can’t quite tell how their inhabitants are related to my host family – I am so confused by all the people I met today (sons and daughters from different marriages, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends, etc etc). The shower – a brick structure that comes up to my shoulders with a bucket of water – is behind these huts, along with the place where they make bricks and the pit latrines. I have been given the one marked “Adult” for my own use while everyone else is going to use the other one – a sweet but very unnecessary gesture on their part.

The kitchen is also in a clay hut in the backyard. It’s very dark and smoky, since they cook over a small fire and the hut has very little ventilation. They couldn’t believe it when I told them that it was a bigger kitchen than the one I used in NY – they thought it was very funny when I demonstrated the size of my kitchen from last year.

There are so many kids around, ranging from about 2 years old to university aged. Most of them will be going back to school soon. School started today for many kids, but some of them postponed their return by a day so that they could meet me. Others are going back next week, and a few haven’t started yet. The smallest kid is so adorable – he was convinced that I was the girl who stayed with the family last semester, and apparently ran around telling everyone that Molly was here. He follows me around, confused by my being different from Molly, and very curious about me. It is disturbing and sad to see these kids running around in clothes that are falling apart and barely covering their distended stomachs.

My host father, Santo, told me about how the war has affected his family. In 2003, the LRA came to his house, where he and several other nearby families were hiding. They abducted sixteen children, including his son Emmanuel (now 16), and his daughter, both of whom were in elementary school. Emmanuel, who was sitting on the couch in front of me as Santo told me this story, escaped very quickly (the first abductees began to return after a week) and all of the other children came back within the next six months – except the daughter. She has never come back, and her family has no idea if she’s even still alive. A number of the women in the extended family were also abducted, and apparently were not able to return for a long time. One of the family members was sentenced by Kony to be beaten to death by other abductees, but fortunately was pardoned at the last minute, and is now back with the family.

Most of the time I just sit and listen to Santo. He seems to have an endless capacity to chat, and wants to teach me all about his work with the UN on human rights, Ugandan politics, etc etc.

I have sooooooo much more to say about the homestay, but I don’t have time right now. More is on the way!