Identity Crisis in Song Lyrics

Disclaimer: the following blog walks a fine line between “real” and “too personal.” I chose to post this because I believe that this semester is just as much a period of personal development as it is a string of African experiences. This entry focuses on the personal development portion.

Talking to myself in a breezeway
Putting down anything that I find
Be it liquor, or candy, or sadness or brandy
Or your words so soft and so kind

I wonder if I still own a bible
If my fingerprints still sit on that page
The one about love, and why it's so patient
And why I have lost it with age

An answer never seems to escape me
But now I'm feeling lost my dear god
Sour and dry if I could I would cry
But my eyes barely open for sunlight

-River City Extension, "If I Still own a Bible" 

I can hardly believe that I’ve been here for a full two months. I remember the day I left Kansas City. I ran with Dad, stopped by Chipotle on the way to the airport to get a final fix, and then goofed off in the airport with Dad and Kaleb while we waited for my flight. I had to wrestle Kaleb to get a hug good-bye. There was snow on the ground. It seems like a year ago.

After the first few weeks in Uganda, once the initial shock wore off and I felt as settled as I could in a foreign country, an unshakeable feeling of restlessness settled in. I often feel overcome with an unbearable feeling of boredom which leads to less than optimal decisions. Instead of listening to informative (yet poorly presented) lectures, I find myself writing out song lyrics instead. I have reached entirely new levels of procrastination. Even when the papers due are 10 pages long, I will not spend more than 3 hours on it. Running has been half-hearted and infrequent. My weight gain is shocking. Despite my countless attempts to motivate myself to get back in shape, lose weight, and prepare for a successful cross-country season in the fall, I still find myself eating horrific amounts of food for no other reason than to combat this pervasive, restless boredom. When I am in the group, I just want to be alone. I find myself consuming more alcohol than usual to try to have fun, yet I still feel removed and distant when with the group. When I am alone, the boredom persists. I have turned to reading novels. My main entertainment is the lives of fictitious two-dimensional characters.

It’s not that I haven’t had fun here. I have. Two weekends ago the group went rafting on the Nile and it was one of the most fun things I’ve done. My host brothers were a blast to talk to. The group is a unique, vibrant, and wonderful mix of people. The issue is that my internal conflict has overshadowed these fun experiences and people.

I suppose I would call this an identity crisis.

 I find myself looking frequently at pictures from high school on Facebook. I long for the girl I used to be. The girl who would only eat organic food during cross-country season. A girl who looked forward to every race, every run, as a chance to push myself to the fullest and test my limits. Someone who really believed in a God. Someone who valued charity and kindness.  Not this bitter young adult who seeks immediate gratification instead of the satisfaction of achieving goals, sulks in solitude rather than enjoying the company of friends, wallows in selfish self-pity instead of fueling obstacles into motivation. I need to get rid of this person.

For too long I have allowed the excuse of Kari’s situation last year to shirk my responsibility for my actions. I gained 15 pounds and told myself, “It’s because I’m depressed from her situation.” I was distant from my friends—“I’m having a hard time dealing with things at school and need alone time.” My grades struggled—“How can I keep up good grades when there is a crisis at home?” And while these excuses had some validity, I never got out of crisis mode. My family has returned to a level of normalcy, yet I have continued to have the same problems and lack of motivation.  

While I can lament my current state over a whiney, overly informative blog post, and can regret it and feel ashamed, none of those things can alter the situation. The only thing that will cause change is if I take action. If I lace up my running shoes every day, if I choose to eat pasta instead of pizza, if I allot 3 days for a paper instead of 3 hours, if I go out for a evening with friends instead of silently reading a vacuous novel in solitude.

I think I have come to a lot of these realizations because this boredom and laziness and inability to be dedicated to anything have persisted in Africa. I thought going away, a change of scenery, of culture, of people, would solve whatever deadness and numbness that had prevailed since my sophomore year in college. But it persisted, and even worsened in this different land. The problem has always been internal. My boredom is not of DC, or of the mid-west, or of the people I know and love. But it is with the vacuous, self-centered person I have become. How can my selfish concerns provide continual entertainment? How can I feel alive without goals or ambitions? The cure to my boredom was not to come to Africa (altough I'm glad I did). Instead, it must originate in a deep change from within and a revival of the self-determination, motivation, and ambition that I used to value and receive joy from. I need to once again have the sensation of working as hard as I can at something and, at the moment of truth, taking comfort and pride in the knowledge that I had done everything possible to ensure success, had given it my all.

“It’s not the long walk home that will change my heart

But the welcome I receive at the restart.”

-Mumford and Sons, "Roll Away Your Stone"

Exploring Cultural Differences while Procrastinating

In about an hour, I have a major test which will evaluate my knowledge of the Lugandan language. Unfortunately, I could not care less about said test due to the fact that it will not impact my grade in any way. Thus, instead of studying, I have decided to explore cultural differences instead of being studious.

Cultural Difference Number 1: Drunk driving

United States stance: I know that drunk driving happens. But most people do not go into an evening planning on driving drunk. It comes about out of necessity or being so intoxicated the idea doesn't phase you. Even those who do drive drunk often do not really speak about it or wouldn't brag about it. I think it is somewhat taboo--you wouldn't tell your mom that you were driving drunk the night before.

Ugandan stance: Last weekend I went out with my host brothers, Arthur and Dennis. In planning the evening, we got into an argument that went a little something like this:
Dennis: We should ask mom if we can borrow the car.
Me: Yeah, but that would mean you'd have to stay sober and that wouldn't be any fun. We could just taxi it or take bodas.
Arthur: Yeah, you still want to have a good time.
Dennis: Oh, I'd still drink.
Me: You can't be drunk driving! It's dangerous. (I sound like a mother, but oh well)
Dennis: I drive better drunk than I do sober. (He is serious).
Me: (Insert the normal American objections to drunk driving...)
Arthur: Well, the thing is that we have a car. If people see us taking a taxi or a boda, they'll think we're low.
Me: But we can't be driving drunk!
Dennis: Kyla, everyone driving at that time of night is. It's just part of our culture.

While we did not end up taking the car out (mama didn't let us), it was crazy to hear people planning two days in advance to be driving drunk. There was no shame in it, they thought I was strange for having any objections. Their mom even frequently lets them drive in that state. And on the taxi drive home, it seemed exceedingly apparent that everyone else really was driving drunk.

Cultural Difference #2: Beauty

US Stance: Skinny is everything. And you should probably have a tan. Enough said.

Ugandan Stance: Big is beautiful. Apparently it is common for men to ask their wives to put on weight once they get married because they like big women. You can often tell if a woman is married or not based on her weight. My grandma here has a hard time not understanding why I don't want to eat five pounds of food at every meal because she can't understand why I wouldn't want to get fat. Being told "you've put on weight" here is a compliment. But not one that I readily enjoy.

Women also want their skin to be lighter. They pay money to buy products to lighten their skin. And to think we pay money in the states to use tanning beds.

Cultural Difference #3: Homosexuality

US Stance: Increasingly, homosexuality is being accepted in the US. Although most states don't allow gay marriage and probably won't for a long time, most people wouldn't agree with the like of extreme hate groups like Fred Phelps. Although it is a difficult thing to come "out of the closet" and there is definitely a lack of acceptance in a lot of cases, your life is almost never in danger for coming out.

Ugandan Stance: There is currently a bill in Parliament that would make homosexuality punished by death. It is expected to pass. The biggest opposition to the bill comes from fears that foreign aid would decrease if the bill passed. In an interview with one of the bill's proponents, the man said that they couldn't worry about what foreign countries wanted to happen in Uganda, they must focus on the moral future of the country.

When we went to visit the king of a tribe in Western Uganda, we were given a speech about the tribe's culture. As a part of the speech, the man listed off what were crimes in the Ugandan culture. The order went like this: homosexuality, murder, urinating in clean water, and finally rape. Yes, homosexuality is worse than murder.

The crazy thing is that you see men all the time holding hands walking down the street. Because homosexuality is not even ever considered to be a possibility, the men are much more affectionate to show friendship.


Okay, that's all I have time for now. If anyone ever wants to send me updates on the NCAA tournament, I would be eternally obliged. Here's to a weekend of rafting on the nile and a boose cruise!

USA! USA!

Tuesday was Women's Day in Uganda and it was awesome. Analyzing why I found it so awesome led me to realize the importance of cultural background in shaping my perspective and experiences.

On Tuesday, I started my day by going to the SIT resource center. School was canceled due to women's day  so the taxi was only half full (or half empty, either way). Once at SIT, I had a great run (6 miles with the last two uptempo), and then did an extensive abs and push-ups circuit. After a shower (well, shower is a relative term--basin bath in actuality) and lecture, the other students and I went to Garden City--a Western style mall in down town Kampala.

Garden City was like a little slice of the United States. At least half of the people there were international (read: white). The public restrooms had flushing toilets and were pretty clean. The food court brought you your food within 5 minutes (it normally takes at least 45 minutes). The stores were similar to ones in American malls as opposed to roadside shacks. And, best of all, there was a grocery store selling the holy grail--granola bars.

After eating a wonderful veggie hummus pita, the group and I went to see the movie "How Do You Know" in the cinema there. Was the movie good? Absolutely not. Did I enjoy it? Absolutely. For those two hours, I completely forgot I was in Uganda and was in the midst of American culture.

On the boda boda ride home (quick side note, boda bodas are dirt-bike type motorcycles which are used as taxis here. They are notoriously dangerous and strictly prohibited for SIT students, but also really, really fun to ride) I was thinking about how great the day had been and why I enjoyed it so much. Some things were obvious. I felt so good after my run because I have been conditioned to find satisfaction in running hard since I started running competatively at 13. I enjoyed lunch because I love hummus and it was nice to eat vegetables that hadn't been fried for the first time in a month. The movie was cool because it was set in DC and it was neat to see buildings on the screen I see frequently at home.

But, a closer analysis of the day revealed that my identity as an American had greatly influenced my perspective that day. (Can you tell I've been writing papers here and working on topic sentences?) The reason that I enjoyed the taxi ride that morning was because my personal space was not invaded. On a typical day, when I am crammed in with 20 other Ugandans in a 14 passenger van, I fell exhausted after teh commute due to the close quarters. For Ugandans, personal space is not a concern. It's a cultural difference that weighs on me differently because I grew up with personal space as a defined and respected social value.

Similarly, I enjoyed the convenience of getting food and the selection. I could have Lebanese food, Chinese food, American food--all within five minutes after ordering. Convenience and selection are two parts of American culture. Think of how much a bountiful buffet pleases you (at least it does for me). I can have pizza, salad, pasta, corn on the cob, AND there's a sundae bar?! And convenience. People pay money to have food or groceries brought straight to their door instead of going to the store themselves. In Uganda, people will spend an hour crushing cassava root to make cassava flour instead of spending 15 cents on it in the store (even when they can afford it). Even though I might be critical of these aspects of American culture, that doesn't change the fact that they are a part of me. I was thrilled to be able to choose my meal and to get it quickly.

I have always been very critical of the United States' history and culture. I get very frustrated with how my peers behave and teh things they value. But, no level of criticism (or kritiks) changes the fact that I grew up in the USA and I am a part of American culture. I like organization in the presentation of information (Ugandans have no organization whatsoever). I am not punctual by American standards, but I still try to keep appointments and be there within an hour of the right time (Ugandans just won't show up). I like eating lots of food at Thanksgiving and watching football. I think cricket is better than baseball and American football is better than rugby. I get happy when I hear cheesy American Christmas songs. And I want the US to dominate the Olympics next summer.

And why? Because my identity is influenced by the nation I have lived 20 years in.

This probably seems like a very obvious epiphany. But, I suppose I have been so pretentiously opposed to American culture for so long that I believed I was above it and not affected by it. And I think I needed to learn that while I can study and appreciate the values of other communities, I can't change my background and its influence on me. So, I blame my American identity for why I fully enjoyed a perfectly terrible rom-com on Women's Day.

A 3 Week Excursion in Bullet Points

The task of writing out what has been going on in the past 3 weeks is overwhelming. Thus, I'm resorting to bullet points to quickly highlight a few cool things I've done in the past 3 weeks.

-Go on a hike of the Rwenzori Mountains, run down the mountain, and do abs and push-ups on river rocks next to an awesome bridge and waterfall. Runner's World Rave Run style.
-Visit a King of one of the Ugandan tribes. Look up and realize that the royal palace has about 50 bats living in its ceiling
-Go to a reconcilliation village in Rwanda-dance with the Rwandan girls, drink banana beer, listen to reconcilliation stories and be amazed at the Rwandans capability to forgive and move on after the genocide
-Visit the Milles Collines Hotel (the one that Hotel Rwanda is based on)
-Learn how to weave baskets at a woman's weaving co-op
-Go on a boat and land safari. See elephants, hippos, water buffalo, monkeys, warthogs, and a leopard
-Work-out at an actual gym at the Rwenzari International Hotel
-Stay up all night (literally, we did not sleep) playing truth or dare like seventh graders
-Stay at a nun's guest house in Rwanda
-Star gaze in the Rwandan country-side
-Find a resturaunt with actual American food and eat the world's best veggie burger
-Watch a football match (aka soccer game) on a sheet with a projector with around 100 Ugandans
-Go to a local primary school football match. There were about 5 times more people there to watch 10 year olds play soccer than there are at GW men's soccer games.
-High altitude training runs, often joined by Rwandan or Ugandan children who are wicked fast
-Stayed at the Queen Elizabeth National Park Hostel. We weren't allowed to leave our rooms after dark because the lions were roaming around. I'm serious.
-Go clubbing in both Uganda and Rwanda. Get way more attention than I have ever wanted
-Ride a boda-boda (motorcycle taxi) through the country-side
-Go to the DRC (Democratic Republic of the Congo) border
-Eat raw cassava at a Rwandan farm sponsored by the Millenium Development Project
-Live 3 days in rural Uganda in a hut completley without electricity, running water, or any trace of technology.

Tomorrow we drive back to Kampala. I am very ready to go back. The past three weeks have been cool since I got to see areas in rural and urban Rwanda, Eastern, and Western Uganda. But, I am excited to return to my home-stay in Kampala and have some sort of permancy again--it got tiring being on the road and staying in hotels for three straight weeks.

Back in Kampala, we will start our elective class. I chose to focus on grass roots development, mostly because it's something I know nothing about and I think it would be neat to study something where I do not have a previously conceived Western interpretation of the subject. So, here's to a six hour drive tomorrow back to Kampala and then two weeks of grass roots studies!