::::I've Left Copenhagen for Uganda::::

Looking at the Nile through a stained window of an aircraft

Along the border between Southern Sudan and Uganda the River Nile flowed silently this Tuesday morning.

It is one of these early mornings where I didn't sleep enough; I didn't eat properly; And where I fought my way through traffice to the airport in Entebbe before boarding a plane to Yei in Southern Sudan. Even in spite of all that - and the nauseous feeling the tiny aircraft creates, I will still say that the view is worth it.

African Woman - how to get hold of it outside East Africa?

I have noticed an interest in the Ugandan-founded magazine 'African Woman'. I have received a few emails and even a phone call from Europe asking me how you can get hold of the magazine outside East Africa.

Good question! This is just to say that I haven't ignored the requests, but that I have been too busy to think of how to figure it out. If I do, I will let you know. In the meantime, you - who called me from Europe (the connection was not good that day), write me back, and I will send you the latest copy!

Another Nigerian giving his views on how to help Africa

I read this article from the LA weekly about Femi Kuti, son of Fela Kuti - referred to by Uganda's Scarlett Lion. Another Nigerian giving his views on how to help Africa. I tried to say something about this issue yesterday in my post here, but it never came as clear as Femi Kuti below!

What’s your take on Bono and concerts like Live 8 that campaign on behalf of Africa?

Bono doesn’t need to tell us that we are poor. We know we are poor. All these concerts come and go and nothing changes in Africa.


So then what’s the best way for concerned Americans to get involved with helping Africa?

Not to feel sorry for us but to be positive toward us. Do more business with us. Come and visit us. We, in turn, have to get stronger and not rely on leaders to do everything for us. We must take action ourselves. But Western democracies must also stop turning a blind eye to African corruption and start taking action — then we can start moving forward as a nation.

Ha ha, I do look like as if I am trying to save Africa, don't I?!

I have followed the debate pushed by the Nigerian writer Iweala Uzodinma's article 'Stop Trying to Save Africa. It has been commented on various blogs and even the Danish Sunday paper Politiken translated it and put in on page 2.

The article and the writer pissed me off big time, and in between whatever I have to do in a country where I have been put off a plane with no luggage, I have been trying to formulate a comment.

The man is right. Who wants to be patronised by young American students, or others with a conscience which needs to be cleared? Who wants to be felt sorry for when what you really need is support which treats you as an equal? Who wants to adopt another way of living in return for funds? Who wants to see his tribe, nation and continent displayed as powerless and fucked-up (when you know you make the exception?)

I know I don't!

But come on! - Iweala's argumentation is threadbare and his arrogance makes him speak on behalf of all Africans. Categorising them all in one go, as well as he does with the whole group of ex-pats trying to save Africa. No doubt that a change of the Western way of saving Africa is necessary. No doubt that a lot of ex-pats, whatever reason they are in Africa for, can be a pain in the ass (I know some). But I also know a few Ugandans who would never put their feet in West Nile and Kampala youth who would never date a 'Northener' because of tradition and the history - and the image! The stereotypes and lack of information thrive within Uganda, Africa and among Africans. It is only the Africans who are well off who can afford rejecting support to Africa. They cannot speak for the rest.

I have given up the project for today. It makes me too angry. In stead I went through my photo albums and stumbled on the one photo above and realised; Ha ha, I do look like as if I am trying to save Africa, don't I?!

Here I am captured with Michael 'Dunno' Dume, a Sudanese Kuku, refugee from Kajo Keji. Michael got lost as a child from his family during the war in Sudan. A Swedish humanitarian worker found him, helped him and gave him the additional name 'Dunno', because that is what he apparently kept answering when asked for his name.  Michael was later united with his family in Uganda where I met him in August 2005 in Oliji Refugee Settlement where he is still working as a operational manager for Mungula Resource Centre.

Back in Uganda

First two days delay in Copenhagen due to bad weather in Southern England. Then soft tarmac in Heathrow delayed the plane from Copenhagen to Heathrow. I got the choice to stay in London for four additional days to accompany my luggage to Africa. I thought what the hell, luggage is for tourists and other softies!, and decided no and ran through Heathrow for my gate and a blinking sign saying Entebbe, boarding now.

I arrived this morning in Entebbe without luggage or anything usefull to wear apart from the clothes I was in. Tourist or not, at least they are entitled to a compensation for lost luggage. I am not 'cause I am a resident of Uganda. I feel challenged now till Thursday, where my luggage is announced to be on the next British Airways plane to Uganda.

Restless in Copenhagen

I got two more days in Copenhagen to think about my ability to make fast changing-of-direction-of-life-decisions.

I have signed a short term contract with MS Tanzania, where I am going to work from September 1 as an information officer at the country office in Dar es Salaam.

My Icelandic nephew, Baltasar, just reminded me that the Tanzanians and the Zanzibarians ´were so crazy about him´ when he came for holidays in 2006. Blond children with blue eyes do get a lot of positive attention, especially if they say ´Jambo!´ by themselves.

In my case it might take a bit more!

I can´t get the smile off my face...

Plans changed. I am not leaving Uganda for Copenhagen. I am staying in Africa a little longer.

Sort of a last minute thing. I am packing for 6 weeks in Uganda, preparing myself to return soon and get back to life in Copenhagen. But Monday night I got an offer I could not resist. Wednesday I signed the contract, and got myself a new job which is going to occupate me in Africa from September till December. Maybe longer. I hope. The job and duty station are almost too good, and I fear that if I talk about it too much they will take it from me and give it to someone who doesn't go bla bla bla on a blog.

I am 36 years next week. But no older to admit that I am feeling childishly, stupidly happy and very enthusiastic (had to go out with friends and drink a lot of wine to level it out). At the moment it is all a huge mix of getting a job offer (when all I got last month was rejections), the job itself, the fact that Copenhagen has been postponed (autumn and winther coming up), that I don´t have to write job applications for a while, or show up for interviews and pretend to know what is what.

Imagine, over the past two months I have been applying for jobs, done a few subsequent interviews (two with a slash of malaria) without results. I had periods of doubt regarding my own talents and experience and I tried to get on another track, out of the development business. I wanted to stay in Africa, but to get out of northern Uganda because of travelling all the time and not having a functional base in my life. I gave it a break, got malaria, sort of resigned, and left it to the destiny. Apparently, that worked.

I will be in Uganda till September 1st where my contract ends. I will do my best to meet all I have worked and socialised with. I will pack my belongings, my million kangas, kitenge and kikoyes. I will try to sort out how the resource centres in the north can spend the money I fundraised (in spite we could´t take cash out of the bank due to absence of signatories the last time I was around), I will write my final report and make it short.

And then I will leave Uganda for Tanzania.

Something is missing

It is not all rural-romantic-idyllic. I went driving today around this flat island, which also is the place where I grew up.

Lolland is beautiful on a sunny summer day, but it begins to make me restless. I try to capture images here, but there is something missing. The noise, the chaos, the wilderness, the people, the multi-colors...

Man, I missed Africa today, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this and this in particular, just to mention a few of the things which pops up in my head. The very worst thing is, apart from waiting till I get a go to to Uganda, is that I have to return to Denmark September 1st. I have moments where I fear how I will cope with living in Copenhagen.

Images from the island where I grew up

I grew up on Lolland where grandparents had canvases hanging on the wall in their sitting room. Ideally above the couch or the dinner table.

My grandparents had quite a few, which when I was a teenager was considered kitsch of the best kind. When I was a child I loved them. Today a lot of my generation consider the style retro. To me the ones in my grandparents' home gave soft associations of the country side, summer & sunshine, hard working people using old-fashioned tools, often harvesting, blue sky and white, fluffy clouds. Very rural-romantic. I always imagined that the canvases were painted just around the corner from my grandparents' home. And as I recall it - it was always summer & sunshine when I grew up.

At the moment I am spending time where I grew up. I enjoy to drive around this flat island. A good part is that everywhere is close to the sea. Today I passed through this landscape which looked like one of these canvases. Just around the corner.

- When are you going back to Africa, are you finished there?!

People ask. And I reply that I just got back to Copenhagen after three weeks in Belgrade, where I spent one week in hospital to be treated for malaria, and add - that I am not going anywhere for some time. I realised that there is this little scary thing at the back of my mind pulling me from going anywhere difficult. Like a sort of thing saying danger ahead. (Even when my Icelandic brother-in-law tries to convince me that my involuntary time off from Uganda opens up for the option of visiting Iceland for his birthday, I grab myself thinking - those vikings know shit about acute malaria).

The thing pops up when I try to visualise myself committing to organised shopping in Kampala (for an up-country stay), packing my car, driving the 450 km up-country, settling in my house in Arua, and trying to move around West Nile to work. I know my hesitation is grounded in a combination of the fear of another malaria attack (I feel too week for another round) and the fact that I get tired by the thought of the practicalities of making my way round in Uganda.

Basically, I am drained for energy. I loose my breath on walking up stairs. I still have anaemia, and the doctors are also here mentioning blood transfusion as a way out. I am still too worried about long-term impact, and too shocked about my own reluctancy to face my malaria for me to see the potential advantage of the facts that two rounds of malaria in three weeks already is an amazing topic for conversations with all kinds of people.

Fortunately, I know from previous periods in my life of i.e. severe work stress, that in spite I suddenly loose my appetite for life, I know it will return if I work on restoring myself. But in the beginning I hate it, I think it is a waiste of time to take time off, do nothing and bore oneself. But it is necessary. Which is why I am back in Denmark for a couple of weeks, a rather excellent place to be off alcohol, bore myself in the countryside, visit the hospital for regular check-ups and plan the next move.

I must not forget to thank to my Serbian friends, who made it possible for me to survive malaria treatment in a public Serbian hospital. One thing was the professional female Doctor Lidija, but my Serbian friends made it bearable. Even though they were busy, they came for visits, brought me supplementary and edible food, litterature, clean clothes, toiletpaper and soap!

Finally, I have been very touched by comments on my blog from people who follow. I appriciate your concern a lot! Thanx!