Who’s a tougher crowd—sex workers in the slums of Kampala or teens in the South Bronx? I’m still not sure.
Yesterday proved to be quite an eventful. day My NGO works with several community based organizations (CBO’s) to more effectively accomplish our mission. We train peer educators, provide resources and encourage communities to help themselves. In this manner, ideally, a community is more invested in seeing projects through.
One of my tasks here is to “strengthen our relationship with HIV/AIDS prevention CBO’s. So, I figured the best way to do this would be to meet with the head of a CBO and figure out their needs and then visit their community, one of the worst slums in Kampala. Our meeting with the leader of the CBO went well, he was excited of the prospect of white people coming to talk to his community.
In the hours leading up to our visit, I was trying come up with a an effective lesson plan for this community. I decided that both a male condom demonstration and female condom demonstration were essential. And since EVERYONE talks about HIV/AIDS, I decided to focus on all the other STIs that are common here.
The team and I packed into the company car and we set off for Bwaise. When we arrived at what we thought was the office, we were warmly greeted by a man named George who took us up some stairs and into a very modest office. We quickly learned that we were in the wrong place—the office of a different NGO, but an admirable one at that. Where I come from the normal courtesy would be to excuse ourselves and go on our merry way concerned about being late for our engagement, but here in Uganda there is no way to make a quick exit, and people are not caught up in the constraints of time. We were given packets of information about the NGO, learned about their cause and brainstormed ways we can partner with them in future activities. We learned, the NGO helps children with severe congenital problems find funding to have surgery in India. Before we left, George, the director showed us their next case, an 8 month old boy whose heart is on the outside of his body. He is leaving for India on Saturday for surgery. Fingers crossed all goes well. It was crazy. I have never seen anything like that.
When we finally left our new friends (and potential new partners) at Action for Disadvantaged People, an hour had passed. We found a leader of the CBO who directed us through the back of a slum, past people cooking and cleaning (all of whom exclaimed “muzungu! muzungu!” and touch me) to a small shack of a place. We found out later that our meeting was being held in the local brothel.
About 20 people (mostly sex workers and a few men from the community) were waiting for us. Another 20 people came and went during the session and many others poked their heads in periodically through a small window. The women were extremely attentive and inquisitive, but with a tough affect and demeanor. One of the first questions that came my way was “Why did you white people bring AIDS here?” Wow—turns out this is a common myth, which I quickly dispelled. Next question please: “Why are you white people hiding the cure to AIDS?” Wow again. I’m still not sure that they believed me when I told them people die of AIDS in America, too. And I know they don’t believe me when I say there are poor people in America. After navigating such questions, I won over the crowd with my condom presentation and showing them pictures of STDs. It was quite a sobering moment when a hand shot up while I was talking about HPV and how it can cause cervical cancer, “What is cancer?,” she asked. A prime example of the stark contrast between our worlds.
After the presentation was over, and all questions were asked and answered, one of my colleagues went to get refreshments that we had promised the attendees. One of the women followed him and said matter-of-factly, “Don’t get us soda—we’d prefer beer.” At that moment, I couldn’t have agreed more!
