Month In Review: Top 10 experiences in June

10. Meeting Megan Gary, our office’s new summer legal intern. Her arrival settled the confusion which had developed in the office over my reference to another “Megan.” Before she arrived, every time I spoke about the new Megan who was coming for the summer, my colleagues thought I was referring to myself in the third person. Clearly Megan is not a popular name here.

9. Dinner at my boss’ house with ladies from the office and a couple good friends—girls’ nights like these provide a sense of normalcy while living so far from what I consider “normal.” It’s good to know that girls’ nights happen all over the world!

8. Meeting clients from work. Their stories are absolutely inspiring. I look forward to a point when I can share their stories with all of you. The struggles of poor women in this country are overwhelming and yet it’s not our clients’ past and present plight that brings me to tears. It’s when they’re freed from oppression and begin to espouse joy and hope which makes me cry [happy tears].

7. Aerobics class at a nearby hotel. Thank goodness for my college aerobics class! Without it I’d be useless in this predominantly male, Ugandan aerobics class (I’m talking 100% Ugandan and 85% male). I’ve never stood out more for being white and female than I do in this class—but I love it! Good music and a good sweat—what could be better?

6. Birthday celebrations for the "new" Megan and another friend named Timmy. They were great excuses for delicious food, ice cream, cake, karaoke, movies, and board games.

5. 3 hour church service at a small Ugandan church. It sure made me thankful for 1-1.5 hour services in air conditioned buildings in the States! While long and tedious (trust me—staying awake has never been harder to do), I was reminded that the community of God is found worldwide, and I am lucky to be in place where I do not have to hide my faith.

4. Visiting the Nile River for the first time with 5 girl friends (click on this link http://picasaweb.google.com/megangarn/Nile to see photos from this trip). What an incredible sight! Besides spending time watching the river rush by we also cheered Kristen on as she bungee jumped, took photos with Bengali soldiers (see number 4), and had guacamole at a local cafe! The Nile was incredible but to be quite honest, I think the guacamole was reason enough to travel the 1.5 hours to Jinja.

3. Taking photos with 15 Bengali soldiers who acted as though myself and my 5 American girl friends were a literal American Dream. As we were sitting near Bujagali Falls on the Nile, the soldiers (also touring the area) walked up to us, literally pushed their way into the 4 inch gap between each of us, and took turns taking each other’s photos with us American ladies. I must have been in at least 15 photos. I wonder if Lady Liberty ever gets tired of posing for pictures?

2. Being named “Namatovu” by the Resident District Commissioner (top political figure) or RDC, of the Mukono district of Uganda. A personal meeting with him and a few of my colleagues led to a discussion of Luganda names bequeathed on expats. Upon learning that I had no such name, the Big Man himself named me “Namatovu,” the name of his personal clan. I am now Megan Garner Namatovu.

1. Going to Legal Education, the community outreach program led by our office attorneys where, upon being introduced to the seminar participants as Megan Namatovu, I met a fellow Namatovu clansman. My Matovu (male version of Namatovu) brother was an older gentleman who warmly held out his hands to me and greeted me as family. Having a Luganda name has made me feel much more a part of the Luganda culture because everywhere I go I seem to meet a Namatovu clansman and more of my Ugandan family.

Looking forward to July: I get to spend 4 full days with one of my best friends from college, Phoebe Hamann! I am so excited to finally show someone from home what it’s like for me to live here. Plus, at this half-way point, it’s nice to see a familiar face! Let the gabbing begin!

Investing

What would you do if you were surrounded by street children begging you for money? They know you have money to give—you’re a Westerner. And to be honest, you do have more money than they do. What about when your neighbor asks for just $6.00 to get home to his village? And what would you do when someone begs you to give them a job or to help them start a business by fronting all the money they need to start said business? Do you give money to the crippled men sitting in doorways of slum shanties? Do you let go of the hand of a child who has slipped their fingers into yours, hoping to feel coins drop into their dirty palm? What would you do? What should you do?

I was faced with each of the above dilemmas last week, and I generally face the dilemma of money every day. What do I do? What should I do? What does it mean to “help” someone who is begging for money? Even if they’re hungry, should I perpetuate a system of begging? In speaking to friends I’ve learned that it is important to invest in people instead of simply giving people money. But what does that investment look like? And what do you do when time is limited—when people are starving?

It’s hard for me to know what to do about the constant begging. I’m not cold hearted, believe me. It brings tears to my eyes when I see a woman sitting against a pole outside the prominent expat shopping center, begging as she holds her newborn twins who are even lucky to be alive. But then again, are they lucky? What kind of life do they have ahead of them when their mother cannot feed herself? And is she lucky to have two more mouths to feed?

Last week, as I wandered downtown to go to a large clothing, food, and goods market called Oweno Market, my roommate, colleague and I stopped for a moment as Kristen (my roommate) made a quick 30-second phone call. In this short period the three of us were literally surrounded by 12-15 children pressing into us, holding up their hands, begging for money. When the call ended, we quickly moved down the street but not without the entourage of children following us. They finally fell back as we quickened our pace and made it clear we would not be giving out any change. But was that right? They have nothing, and we have so much. What should we have done? Either way—whether I give them money or not—I feel uneasy.

Investing in people—what does that look like? I still don’t have an answer to this, and may never. But it’s good to ponder. One way I have seen my roommate invest in the poor is by helping to manage a home for children here in Kampala. She’s been working with this home for more than 8 months now, and the 45 kids that live there just love her. The organization that sent Kristen here pays for the kids’ school fees, has provided them with a new home, and covers the cost of food and electricity, among other necessities. The home, Voice of Hope, is a place for needy kids to live and learn skills that will hopefully enable them become independent, responsible citizens someday. I hadn’t been to the home until last weekend when I spent the afternoon with her at the home. We were greeted by beautiful little children running up to the gate and throwing their arms around our waists. For over two more hours I watched some of the kids dance, sing, and perform acrobatic routines for us, while holding a little four-year-old boy named Vilanny on my lap. All the kids were so loving and sweet, and it was just fun to give them hugs and smiles. It was a really fun afternoon, and I look forward to many more visits with the kids. Who knows, maybe they’ll teach me the Luganda I’ve neglected to learn! The home is by no means perfect or a paradise, but it is a special place. I am thankful that this home exists, and that the kids have hope for a good future due to the investments made by Kristen and the home caretakers.

Kristen also works, along with some of the leaders of Voice of Hope, in a Kampala slum. On Wednesdays she helps facilitate arts and crafts projects or score a football (soccer) game. Their ministry in this slum is to street kids, a tougher bunch than those at the home. Kristen took me to the slum last week and it was definitely an eye-opening experience to walk through the reality of a street kid’s life: Sleeping on the dirt when it’s warm or sleeping in a large, metal cargo box when it rains. Walking around with nothing to do all day because they can’t afford school fees. Not going to school when they have the fees, preferring to get high from sniffing the paint-thinner-soaked-rags that they carry around everywhere. Begging for money or learning to steal it so as reduce their hunger pangs.

While these have been valuable, eye-opening trips into the “real” Kampala, what do I do with these experiences? How do I process them? For now I’m determined to keep asking questions of friends and colleagues, but am getting used to the fact that I may never have concrete answers.

I hope this has given you a sense of some of the things I have been experiencing and processing in the past couple of weeks. One of my greatest desires is to come in contact with reality while I’m here, so I hope I don’t shy away from future experiences such as these. Working in an office in the nicest neighborhood in Kampala can create a "bubble" effect, so I hope I can challenge myself to step outside of my comfort zone here.

Thanks for reading, and I love you all!

Meg

If you want to see photos of my time at the children’s home, go to the following website: http://picasaweb.google.com/megangarn/OhSoCute