So that's it! We're done. Finished. Finito. What a five weeks it's been. Amy and myself have journied across continents and through the rainbow of emotions; joy to embarrassment, embarrassment to despair, despair to frustration and back again. We blinked and the weeks were gone, yet sometimes it progressed so slowly, agonisingly awaiting the next Posho dinner (puke). But it's over now and all we can do is reflect.
I blush when people congratulate us on what we did in Africa. PLEASE! We were not saving the world, curing diseases or feeding the starved (well not all the time), really we were nothing more than glorified childminders, cooing over our little babes, trying to explain what "germination" was or how to divide fractions (Thank heavens for calculators). We did not arrive home blowing our trumpets on the good work we did, or the differences we've made. Did we enjoy Africa? Yes. Was is what we expected? No. Who can tell if we made a difference in their lives? Selfishly we know we've made differences in ours. Maybe you wonder why I say "selfishly"? perhaps we, as western volunteers, are the problem.
Let me explain. I'll take you back to the day that I rushed amy to hospital with Malaria The was an old English doctor there(who was married to an Irish woman), he was a sarcastic, almost synical man with a dry humour warped by the decade he had spent in Africa. Curtiously he was enquiring about our vocation here in Uganda and we described the kids we were wrking with. The doctor scoffed, stating "you should have went for babies, they're much cuter for photographs to show people back home". At the time we laughed, later realising it wasn't a joke but a stark realisation of why people volunteer in Africa. Do we do it for the people who need us, ourselves or just to say we've done it?
Maybe you've wondered why we haven't said much about our children? Honestly they're no different to children in Ireland, America or anywhere else we've worked with kids. Naively we expected them to be extra appreciative, in comparison to children at home. But why would they be when they have no parent figures except the short-term foreigners who impose themselves upon the home for a couple of weeks at a time, giving, giving, giving until they have wiped their conscious clean with generosity. Then they depart, and with them whatever discipline they implemented. Is it any wonder these children are masters of deception, so clever, wrapping you aroung their little finger. Don't get us wrong, we loved the children, genuinely we do, but it was a daily struggle, biting your tongue to not blurt out something you'll regret. It's surprising what will push you over the edge when you are far from your creature comforts, sometimes they would go out of their way to upset you, taunt you and ridicule you (Amazingly, its easy to know when someone is talking about you, even in a foreign language). When we become Freud and try to pyschoanalyse the behaviours, it seems to be a self-preservation issue. These children have been rejected, most still have one parent still alive but have been sent here because of poverty or maybe their remaining parent has remarried. It's the kinda stuff that puts that lump in the back of your throat, seeing a child hurt and shunned from their family, why were they the child that was sent away, while their siblings remained. This is why these children maintain a tough exterior, shooting anyone down who dares to get close. Myself and Amy will admit that this was very difficult for us to understand. The children rule the walls with no boundaries, gates with no limits, standing on foundations with no stability.
How would we describe Africa? A beautifully corrupt land where the hunger stricken and rich fat cats live as neighbours, bleeding into eachother, each complaining that the other is the problem. Money is the root of all evils and we believe it! How can Africa lose it's third world status when it continually shoots itself in the horn. Corrupt governments and police forces, where people talk with money, have "lovely" workers who will fall over themselves to help you, because you are white and therefore MUST be rich. We know that you have to be ignorant or unseasoned to think this doesn't happen everywhere, but it's hard to ignore when it's hammered in your face when you walk down the street.
We have been lucky enough to meet some genuinely kind and honest people here, but it's like scattered seeds amongst the thorny branches that physically harass you everytime you walk anywhere.
Perhaps we've painted Africa negatively but we can truthfully say our Africa Adventure has been a positive one. We learned an exceptional amount about other's cultures and beliefs, how to handle troublesome teens (Sorry parents for our teenage years!) and also personally, about ourselves. Did we enjoy Africa? Yes. Was it what we expected? No...................it was better <3
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