Obama Fan Club

Free enterprise is alive and well in 
Uganda. Entrepreneurs set up mats on the sidewalk and sell everything 
from peanuts to watches, hand-made wallets and newspapers, to 
clothing. Throngs of these makeshift vendors line the streets of the 
city centers. The three most popular icons on these items are: the Pope, the Virgin Mary, and Barack Obama. There are key chains, bags, t-shirts, posters, bottle 
openers, belt buckles, and just about anything else which can bear an 
emblem, proudly showing the U.S. president. He is a folk hero here. 

Ugandans claim him as an African. When I counter and say, no he's 
actually American! They laugh at me. As a storeowner said yesterday, “No, no, my friend, don't be 
silly. This man is ALL African.” 

----- 

John and I made friends with a local shopkeeper in Gulu. It became our 
place to sit with locals and unwind from the days and the dust and 
discuss life in our respective homes. One recent night, the clerk 
asked me “What of this business with the Massachusetts politicians? I 
think Obama is in trouble because of this, no?” and I had to laugh at this astute observation. But his question reinforced to me that international eyes are on the U.S. and its policies (It also made me ponder how many of my own countrymen are as in tune to the political happenings of our legislative bodies.)

As 
individuals engaged in aid work, we represent not only ourselves, but 
also the NGO community, an ideal, and our home nation. We would be prudent 
to conduct ourselves with our best foot forward, ever in tuned to the 
local concerns and culture. It has been made public that they deeply respect ours. I have the keychain to prove it.

And...cut

We've wrapped up the first round of filming in Coo-pe, in the Gulu District. It's been an incredible 2 weeks, filled with tales of survival, forgiveness, family, and the daily struggle of living in the shadow of war. I will share more of this soon. In the mean time, a couple of production stills - one of each John and I, and one of the local blind folk musician we recorded for the soundtrack to the film. I would like to express my deepest gratitude to those who have shared their time, stories and resources in making this film happen. I hope to post a summary of the experience this weekend once we've had a chance to catch our breath after 2 weeks of non-stop research, filming and travel.Thanks for following along. - Jake

Lillian

This is Lillian. She has been kind enough to share her story with us, and we hope to soon share it with you. We're working long days capturing her daily life and also conducting interviews with scholars and politicians to give historical context to her story. The afternoon sun is hot, so we try to shoot early morning and evening, and leave the afternoon for doing interviews indoors when possible.

The photos show : Lillian's interview, a boy fetching water from the water point nearest the village where Lillian will rebuild a home on her clan land, Jake working, and a neighbor girl in the IDP camp of Coo-pe.

Back out for the day, first light is coming momentarily.

The Bridge

Beneath a half-built bridge near Lukodi flows a stream. (The bridge construction, now abandoned, a deserted relief effort.) Concurrently making use of this flowing stream were the following:

A woman filling jerry cans

A girl bathing

A teenaged boy drinking directly from the stream

Cattle drinking and cooling themselves from the 97-degree heat

Small children wading and splashing each other

Women washing clothes

Lukodi is one of the IDP camps being emptied. We were there to visit the home of a family resettling in a village nearby. We asked to see where their water comes from, and were escorted, by foot, roughly half or three-quarters of a mile away to arrive at the aforementioned stream. It was shocking. Clean water is not readily available in these areas, so one gets it where one can. I must admit, after walking and working in that scorching sun, I was feeling a powerful thirst coming on myself. I can see how in desperation, one would drink here. However, this water point was an amazing array of everything you’re not supposed to do to maintain a clean source. I’ve never seen anything quite like it and it’s hard to imagine this as a family’s main water source.

Lukodi was the site of an LRA massacre in 2004, in which 42 villagers, including 15 children, were killed. The family we visited will not sleep in their village home, but sleeps in the camp at night, as the children fear another attack. With the LRA far away in the Central African Republic, this is unlikely. I suspect post-traumatic-stress-disorder is working on their nerves, which is completely understandable, given what has happened here. Also, remaining in the camp is a false sense of security, as they are no longer protected by the army. The mental scars will take longer to heal than the physical ones.

The family treks about a mile round trip per day for water - three times per day. That’s three miles. Then they hike to and from the camp for sleeping and returning home in the morning. About another 1.5. Add in trips to the market with bags of homemade charcoal or firewood to sell to make a living. They walk about 5-6 miles per day as a matter of routine. And they walk fast. I could scarcely keep up as they walked, balancing full jerry cans on their heads, down the path.

This family is transitioning home. It is a return to tough conditions. I can see why the convenience of camp life, despite their crowded conditions, could be appealing on some levels. But families are determined to get back. Home is home.

Post by Jake

Into the Valley

On Wednesday, David hopped his return flight to the U.S. That same day, John Dance arrived from Atlanta to join me. The two crossed paths for all of 15 minutes while David jumped in the same taxi that had just picked up John from the airport. It is at the halfway point to my time here, and it is a notable dividing point. The first portion was fast-paced and filled with vital meetings. The second half we’ll attempt to slow down and focus on daily life for the purpose of filming it.

David and I spent the better part of three weeks traveling Northern Ugandan, researching the status of clean water in a shifting political and cultural landscape, and who is doing what about it.

In the next 2 weeks, I hope to linger. John and I will be filming in the valley between Gulu and neighboring Amuru. We have a short film to make, and also a 15-second t.v. ad, which has been generously donated by MindSpinTV. Yesterday, we shot a little around town to get warmed up (frame grabs posted here of the market and basketball players).

Today we ventured out to the villages so John could get a feel for the land and the scenery. Tomorrow we meet our subjects for the first time face-to-face. Very exciting. A giant thanks to John (pictured) for donating his time and skills to be here.

The resettlement process happening in the North is a slow one. It takes time for a family to leave the camps near urban centers and raise the money and labor required to rebuild the village. It takes courage to go back to the sights of atrocities and live with the memories of a troubled past while struggling to make ends meet in the present. We met a woman today, (by chance of where we stopped to rest) who recently moved out of the IDP camp: widowed by war, raising five children, tending livestock, fetching water, tilling the land, and caring for her family’s needs alone. Her story is, unfortunately, very common.

The aim of the film is to share with you, the story of one such family, as they return to their home village after the war. From crowded camp to the open valley. This is not an easy story, but it’s one that promises hope. You see it in people’s faces, you hear it in their words and their songs. (We heard a church group tonight, singing Bob Dylan’s Blowing In the Wind - parts in English and parts in Luo. It was awesome.)

“How many roads must a man walk down
/Before you call him a man?/Yes, 'n' how many seas must a white dove sail/Before she sleeps in the sand?/Yes, 'n' how many times must the cannon balls fly/Before they're forever banned?/The answer,my friend,is blowin' in the wind,/The answer is blowin' in the wind.”-Bob Dylan

Post by Jake

The north still has a long way to go.

My colleague Jake has alluded to the twenty year war between the state and the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) led by Joseph Kony. The LRA, an indigenous group, terrified its own people in the north aided in part by the odd interplay of inter-tribe and intra-African geopolitics that is far too complex to describe here. (Although Reuters does a good job here.) The LRA members were fierce and ruthless fighters devaluing life and debasing communities through rape, torture, abductions and murder. Many villagers moved to camps for safety while others, known as night commuters, would file into cities in the evening. A child could go to the village water source and never return.

The remnants of the LRA are still leading attacks in neighboring Congo. The UN estimates that they killed over 1,200 people and abducted over 1,400 children from 9/2008 through 6/2009. The International Criminal Court issued warrants for the arrest of Kony and his top associates on multiple counts of war crimes and crimes against humanity.

The short of it is northern Uganda has not developed in 20 years. People lived in camps for 5, 10, 20 years. The war's end is a clear blessing, but returning home to their native lands presents many problems. There is a generation going back home to a land they have never seen before. It is a cultural change. Many adults now must find ways to farm to survive when previously their meals were provided for at camps. Boreholes that once provided water are no longer working. Families are now larger than they once were, putting additional stress on any type of infrastructure that may be remaining or that will be built. Simply, after twenty years the cleared out areas that were once villages will often have become overgrown and dilapidated. And after living in camps they lack the savings to provide for much.

In this context, our goal is not to provide a hand out, but to build the capacity of those returning home -- those who faced disaster -- to live healthier lives. It is a slow process, a struggle. But it is a hopeful one, and rewarding when done right.

I first visited Northern Uganda in 2007 as an embedded photojournalist with Ben Sklaver’s Civil Affairs team. At that time, security was tenuous and the tension on the streets was palpable. There was a nervous energy to the commotion, as the region stepped slowly from the shadows of terrible atrocities and hardship. Armed Ugandan army forces patrolled constantly. Torrential rains created massive flooding and disruption. The IDP camps were still crowded. When I visited the camps, I saw first hand the extreme conditions and heard stories of war crimes I dare not repeat. Rural areas were vacant thanks to continued fear of LRA attacks. The government’s focus was to coordinate the humanitarian aid efforts delivered by NGO’s.

2009 was a transition year. The government has slowly been emptying the camps, and the aim is to close them completely to all but the most vulnerable (orphans, elderly, sick) by March 2010. This is a promising sign of confidence that the war has come to a close. The streets feel more relaxed and people are going home. While this is a positive development, it opens the door to a host of new challenges. The relocation of a generation raised during the war requires a paradigm shift for the government as well as the nationals. There are land disputes to address, as family plots have been taken over by squatters. The land itself, while fertile, must be cleared and planted. Houses constructed or repaired. Schools to build and teachers to hire. Water points rehabilitated, and sanitation practices established. Jobs and markets to create. The area is transitioning from crisis to development, and this mandates a different role for those in a position to assist.

Clearwater Initiative is working with local leaders to identify the areas of greatest need and the methods which will produce the maximum impact. In some regards, there is greater need than two years ago. While the ‘crisis’ has eased, the populations are spreading across the region. Ensuring that there are resources in place to sustain them becomes a logistical challenge. (When 10,000 are in one camp? Delivery of services is centralized.) In addition, many of the NGO’s, which were working in the area, have scaled back or ceased their operations in light of the improved situation.

We have spent the last weeks on the trail of Ben’s vision and I have felt his presence at every turn. From meeting those whom knew him personally, to those whom simply knew of him because of his work in the area. We have been lodging in Kitgum at the guesthouse that hosted Ben and his men during their last months in the country. It is a source of both comfort and disquiet to imagine him chatting away on the very table on which I write. A sweet dog named Betty lies at my feet. She was picked up from the streets of town and brought to the hotel by Ben when she was just a pup, and was adopted by his men and the hotel staff. One more small act of compassion by Ben.

So much has changed in the last two years. So much remains to be done. For the moment, I’ll rub Betty’s tummy and feel comfort in the connection to my friend Ben. Then back to work.

Text and photos by Jake

Keeping Perspective in a Foreign Land

It is a photographer’s charge to recognize the uncommon in the every day. When you first arrive in a place like Uganda, one is overwhelmed by sights, sounds and smells which alert these senses. The extraordinary presents itself at every turn, ready for the snap of a shutter. But it is also human nature to adapt to one’s surroundings and carry on. Having spent a mere 16 days here, I am amazed at how quickly my perceptions are adjusting to what is “customary” and what is no longer surprising.

I was sitting outside the internet café today, waiting for David, staring at a boy in tattered clothing with a switch in his hand as he ushered a herd of cattle down main street Kitgum, past a flaming garbage heap. Yesterday, I watched three ostriches mingling amongst women hanging laundry in the yard across from our hotel. Over the past several days, I have seen a family of 5 crammed atop a 125cc motorcycle in their Sunday’s best on their way to church; a pen of live pigs in the parking lot of a restaurant specializing in roasted pork, unawares of their pending fate; and a company of chickens in a public restroom outside the local administrative office. I had to remind my eyes that a flock of 70-odd falcons gathered in a large tree at sunset were an incredible feat of nature. This all now seems almost commonplace.

And then there are the women carrying water. It is easy to forget that the groups of women ferrying water from boreholes are performing a daily routine which involves tremendous reserves of strength and dexterity. One has to remember how fortunate those in developed countries are to turn a tap for potable water. That the majority of Western family homes are a secure, comfortable place; free from threats like malaria, cholera, insurgency, replete with electricity and a soft bed, a luxury of space, flush toilets, a roof which keeps out the elements, and walls which keep out poisonous snakes, varmints and provide an environment of peace for a family to nurture their young.




















In Northern Uganda, my eyes are becoming used to seeing the lack of these essentials. I realize I cannot expect the people here to have what I had growing up, but I want them to at least have a fighting chance to have what they need.

We have a long road to travel before this dream becomes reality. The supporters of the Clearwater Initiative, like the many foreign and local NGO’s operating in Northern Uganda, big and small, can play a part in this legacy. Those willing to recognize that a hand up is different from a hand out. That sharing a fraction of one’s prosperity is a step towards realizing universal human rights of food, water and education for those who can not afford them on two dollars a day. It is the sobering perspective that a small effort can make a big difference.

Pictures by Jake--words, too.

Faces of Eyame

We have been in Kitgum for a few days now. Internet has been scarce, so apologies for the lack of posts. These photos are from the Clearwater Initiative water points in Lira District. These are villagers from the protected spring at Eyame.

Photos by Jake

The meetings in Kitgum have been going well, and we are identifying new partners and the subcounties which are in the greatest need of water assistance. We will be back in Gulu tomorrow, with better internet access, and will catch you up more then.

Fitting within the plan

One of our main concerns while working out here is to coordinate with local authorities. Some NGOs, derisively called briefcase NGOs, go out to the field and bypass district governments. They implement programs only with the villages. We feel that working within the regional government plan, as they seek to increase the percentage of citizens who have access to clean water, is important. It increases liklihood of success. After all, the project is owned by the village and should be supported by the local government.

Coordinating with the government also helps us ensure we do not construct projects in areas where the government or other NGOs are planning to build. The Ugandan government's goal is to ensure that each citizen is no more than one kilometer away from a fresh water source and has to share that point with no more than 300 others. And we are still a long way away from attaining it.

We still conduct our own research: identifing needs and picking villages and regions that are in need and can support our projects. But a collaborative effort provides the greatest chance for sustainable projects.