So a few days ago, in Kitgum, we drove 2 hours out to some random district to meet some random people. Though I never understood the point of the excursion, it did raise up some interesting issues I don't think our program director intended.

These were the poorest and least powerful people we have encountered yet. Like any other northern district, they have been destroyed by the war. But because they are not close to any towns, they do not receive the NGO support that the people in Gulu do. We were given the task of splitting up into groups and talking with them. We had 7 students in my group and 30 locals. They started off telling us about all of their problems, some of which were beyond their control and some which they could address themselves. The majority of their children were abducted as child soldiers and child wives. Education came to a halt during the war. Now, as their children escape and return, there are no schools for them. The community, this extremely poor community, paid to build a primary school (elementary) because the government could care less about northern education systems. But they don't have a secondary school (high school) and they can''t afford to build one. All of their clothes were in tatters with many holes. One man was wearing a "Clark Family Reunion" shirt from Jackson, Mississippi, a representation of the many West/Africa dynamics within their world.

Also, as the children return from the rebels, there are no resources to reintegrate them back into society. In Gulu there are tons of IGOs (intergovernmental organizations) and NGOs (non-government organizations) that offer couseling and rehabilitation after the prolonged trauma of war. But nobody bothers to set anything up for these people. The area has one health center for thousands of people and the health care isn't cheap. There are no good teachers because they all choose posts in town; the people are happy if they can find teachers who can read and write. A bordering tribe keeps raiding their cattle, burning their houses, and raping their women. They also have enmity within themselves.

After they had vented to us, my director said the discussion was too one-sided and told the crowd to ask us a question. They ask us,

"Do you have any advice for us? What should we do?" A wave of surreality and heaviness moved through my body and I just stared at them.They stared right back, expectant, hopeful. We had the answers to solve their problems.But we didn't. And we tried to explain to them that at we didn't know, that we were only learning about their issues today, that we couldn't help them. And they didn't really accept that response. So they moved onto the next question. "So if you don't have the answers, what are you going to do for us? How are you going to get us money?" Huge awkward turtle moment. Fortunately, before anyone could pull out the hands, our director explained to them that we are only students, that we don't have money, and we don't have connections. Later, when we get jobs, we could send NGO funds to them, but not now. The best we can manage is to write our congressmen and congresswomen about their struggle. I don't think they really believed him. We're American. We must have money. It's like one of our lecturers, a well-educated man, a professor here, who could not believe that there are poor people in America. His jaw literally dropped. Where he reacted with shock and amazement, these people reacted with disbelief and bitterness. We have money, we have connections, we're just refusing to offer them.

The two questions bothered me for different reasons. The first because there is an assumed hierarchy inherent in the question. They know their problems better than we do and they know the solutions to those problems better than we do. But because the West has told them for a 100 years now that they are stupid, that they cause their own problems, and that the West is smarter than Africa, they believe that I am smarter than them in the matter of their lives. It's a disturbing and uncomfortable position to be in. I wanted to laugh and cry and yell at people. Laugh because I'm not smarter than them, cry because they shouldn't be made to think they are less than anyone, and yell because it is cruel that Westerners get off on telling powerless people that only Westerners know the answers to African problems, when really they don't even understand what the problems are. It just felt really awful to be on the receiving end of that assumption, particularly because my Western system is the cause of their hope and I am not the answer to their prayers.

The second question irked me for different reasons, but it stemmed from the same systemic issues. The West has formulated a relationship where Africa is completely dependent on the West. It's a one-sided relationship that the West, pinpointing an opportunity to feel superior, has encouraged. In the past 50 years, since African independence, the West has forced its opinions and its policies on Africa, even inhibiting African ideas and solutions at times to continue its agenda. It has created what many anthropologists call the Culture of Aid. Africans expect aid and some have even been made to believe by Western powers that they can do nothing without money from the West. And for those of you back home who agree, you are wrong. Africa has the capabilities of being great and systenmic problems are holding them back. One of those problems is the Culture of Aid.

When we tried to explain to these people that they had the power to change their lives, that they needed to take agency in these issues, they thought we were trying to weasel out of helping them. They didn't really believe they could do anything, partly because they don't have resources and partly because they have been told for so long that only NGOs can help them. It is a problem that we couldn't fix with one blanket statement or a one day visit. Anthropologists call it the culture of aid because it is so entrenched into the mindset, so common within the people, so pervasive within society, that it is not something that will change easily. Only through time, intelligent economic decisions, and moral political practices will Africans realize they can control their own destiny of stability and power.

So I left that particular excursion feeling pretty blah about the day. So I wanted to share my blahness with the world. Hope you enjoyed it!