TESTIMONIES

The experience I organized for Ames High students was called the Uganda Service Learning Project. We traveled to Uganda for 3 weeks, we raised money for a primary school, and then helped in the construction of classrooms and teacher housing for the school. The highlight for almost everyone was the time working with people at the school in the rural village. It’s definitely more learning than service because Ugandans taught us way more than we served them. I consider it one of the great privileges of my life that I was able to lead these experiences for 16 summers in a row. Our first trip was in 2004.

In the late 1980’s, I had lived and worked in Kampala, Uganda for three years as Uganda was emerging from a gloomy 14 year era of civil war, genocide and severe poverty. It was an experience that profoundly shaped me and my world views. Living in Uganda for 3 years was the best preparation I could have gotten to teach the social sciences, which I’ve been doing ever since. 

People frequently would ask me “How was Uganda?” The question I would rather answer is “why do you keep going back to Uganda?” The reason is pretty simple: students learn more from experiences than they do from information. Experiences have powerful potential to impact a person’s values and life trajectory. A lot of people tell me “the Uganda trip was life changing,” my response is, not necessarily; yes, it can be; and, I don’t think you can really measure “life changing”, I’m fine not trying to measure it.  I personally keep going back for selfish reasons. Ugandans teach me how to rest and live well, they show me how to be generous and they remind me of the value of authentic community.

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In the United States, rest is a vanishing commodity, an endangered species of behavior. Rural Ugandans teach me the futility of hurrying. Their body language, speech and actions say “slow down, stop chasing whatever it is you're chasing, let’s chat.” I don’t even wear a watch when I’m in Uganda because I don’t need to. I find myself immensely refreshed by this. Most people who live in rural villages don’t really care what time it is, it doesn’t matter. Rural Ugandans are self employed, they grow food and cook it, take care of livestock, fetch water and maintain their houses.  The sun comes up, it lingers through the morning, turns to an afternoon heat and or thunderstorm followed by the cool of the evening. The same thing tomorrow. Consequently when these villagers (no condescension intended) ask you, “How are you?” They have time to listen. For Ugandans, conversation is an art form and a well developed skill. I am only describing superficially what I find refreshing, let’s call it resting and living well.

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Working on a construction project in rural Uganda helps visiting Americans see that we overvalue productivity.  Typically the Ames group would assess each task with the view, “but this would be so much more efficient if done another way.” The skilled bricklayers and carpenters and parents of the village just smile and say, “who cares if it’s not the most efficient way; this work will be here tomorrow and it will eventually get finished. Let’s sing and dance, and talk and eat, and let us enjoy your presence here with us now.”

In Uganda, community is more valuable than productivity, apparently people are more important than any measure of efficiency. It makes me ask, when and by whom was efficient productivity declared Lord of all humanity? People in the village remind me to reject the notion that productivity and profit should be our highest priority. Who knew that walking or biking to school in an unhurried way would give me so much satisfaction?  Ugandan villagers remind me of the value of authentic community; to try to enjoy being with those around me in the moment, in the rhythms and rituals of daily life.

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Ugandan villagers show me how to be generous. They reveal to me that we North Americans are trapped in a rat race and are often driven by fear and greed, living in ways that are devoid of joy. They show me that there can be great joy in sharing what you have. Be confident that there will be enough, that those you share with will also share with you. During our time in the village, AHS students had the opportunity to visit families in their homes. They proudly showed us their houses and farms and fields of food. But without fail, as we departed, they sent us with a basket of mangoes or avocados, a bag full of corn or sometimes a chicken or even a goat. They felt compelled to share; I’m not sure why but I know they looked really happy doing it. Ugandans remind me of this by their actions and their joy. I don’t want to romanticize material poverty, which is grinding and painful. But I know rural Ugandans who have food, clothing, shelter, and rich community with a deep joy that surprises American visitors 

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I will most likely run out of time before I run out of money. Recently a friend of mine put it to me clearly by asking: “How much money do you really need?” The message I infer from Uganda is: “enjoy the season’s and their colors, relish the crisp autumn or spring breezes. Repent from working so much”. I used to tell AHS students “ Ugandans have more to teach you, than you have to teach them.” 35 years ago, as a youth, I went to Uganda thinking I was going to change Africa. I’ve abandoned those thoughts…

My greatest hope returning to Africa now is that Africa will continue to change me.