Gulu & One Mango Tree

'
Last week I went up to Gulu for the weekend. Gulu is an area in northern Uganda that has been affected by war and conflict between the LRA (Lord's Resistance Army) and the Government of Uganda for over 20 years. The conflict has recently rescinded, as the leader of the LRA, Joseph Kony, has fled to the DR Congo, but there is still much distress felt in the area as the people are trying to recover from the years of violence, fear, and oppression.

I went up to Gulu with a friend, Halle, who I met here in Kampala. Two years ago, while in her mid 20s, Halle started a business called One Mango Tree (http://onemangotree.com/), working with women tailors to create fashionable products and accessories using traditional African fabrics. What sets OMT apart is that Halle is committed to working with women who are living in IDP Camps (Internally Displaced Persons Camps) or other conflict areas. Recently, Halle has relocated to Uganda, living here permanently to focus her attention on the business (a seriously gutsy move on her part!).

The weekend in Gulu was amazing. I do not often hear many positive things about Gulu from people who have traveled there, or work there, because there is not that much to do and the work that people are engaged in is very intense. But by going with Halle I was able to experience a more honest and authentic side of the area. I was able to see a first hand account of how people live, and how different it is from anything I have known before. I spoke with locals and observed them working, roamed the market, found my way in to a community of tukuls (huts) and interacted with all the children who were so excited to see muzungus (white people). The children were just fascinated—wanting to touch our hands and take pictures with us. They were amazing and so beautiful, with the most contagious laughter I have ever experienced. I spent about 2 hours walking around the village and will never forget the experience.

The rest of the weekend was spent learning as much about Halle and her business as possible. It is such an inspirational business concept that is actually working, which re-ignited my interest and confidence that businesses can be successful in creating positive change (which had been tested lately as I’ve been experiencing many of the, what seem to be endless, barriers and frustrations that small, socially conscious businesses must continually face). But, with Halle’s influence and dedication I am expecting big things from One Mango Tree in the near future!

The weekend ended with the most… interesting… of bus rides I think I’ve ever experienced (which is saying a lot considering the chicken busses in Guatemala). Words will not suffice, let’s just say that our seats were being held up with ropes, every time we went over a bump (which there were plentiful) I thought my stomach was going to pop out of my chest, and if we had to stay on the bus any longer than the 5 hours I think we would have been sitting on the floor as our seats were continuously falling apart throughout the journey. But it all contributed to making it the most hilarious and memorial bus trip, ever!

Check out http://onemangotree.com/ to learn more. You can get any of the products shipped to the USA, and they are really nice (no joke)! I bought the market tote (excellent for carrying around the laptop and really comfortable—I was impressed!), 2 clutches (they are called “the original”) and 2 coin purses and LOVE them all! Beautiful products, excellent gifts, reasonable prices, and awesome, original fabrics… not to mention supporting this new, up and coming, socially conscious business that supports women by providing them with skills training, opportunities, and the ability to support themselves and their families. Nice sales pitch, eh? ☺

Slideshow photos courtesy of the extremely talented Joe Shymanski.

Adventures of a Matatu

The day started just like any other Friday. I woke up, ate breakfast, and headed to my usual stage to catch a matatu (taxi) to Mbuya. The matatu I ended up boarding appeared to be like any other—it was blue, had the appropriate stripes, and was calling for people to go to Luzira (the direction I take to Mbuya). The exception was that I was the only passenger, an almost unheard of phenomenon when the norm is to cram in as many people as possible. I got in to the van, sitting in the back next to the conductor; however, after a few moments the driver began asking why I was not sitting in the front (the most valuable seat) with him. He said he “wanted to sit next to me”, and at the next stop they made me swing in to the front of the van. At this point I was only slightly baffled by the situation…

At first they were calling for other passengers, yelling “Luzira” out the side of the van. But it seemed as if they stopped just to talk to me. They told me they were going to their other job (in the army), and were taking the van to Luzira. They asked the formalities: what I was doing in Uganda, how I liked it, where I stayed and then the flirtation (or maybe pestering would be a better description) started. “Do you have a boyfriend?”, “We could stay together” (meaning we could LIVE together), “You are so beautiful!”. The compliments started flowing and became increasingly difficult to dodge. They told me that they wanted me to come with them to wherever they were going, and that they would bring me back to work later. I told them I was already late. At this point my bewilderment was starting to grow. As my stage in Bugolobi was approaching (where I get out of the matatu and continue on foot), I was not sure if they would stop and let me out. All the different possibilities were starting to go through my head, and I didn’t know what to expect. “At least I am sitting next to the door now” I thought, in case the need to jump out appeared. They wanted me to come with them; I wanted to get out. I was prepared to jump if need be, but was hoping it would not come to that. I finally told them just to let me out—and after a few moments they listened. They weren’t pushy, or trying to scare me (I don’t think), they just wanted my mobile number so that we could go out, but in the commotion of my exiting I didn’t give it to them (not that I would have anyways). I tried to pay the standard 500 shillings (=$0.25) for the ride, but they refused it. In the end, I never really felt in any danger, but upon reflection, I was in a situation that could have gone very badly very quickly. But, as happens every other day, I exited the matatu at the Bugolobi stage, walked the short distance to Reach Out, and continued on with my day.

A Matatu—the ones on the road are in slightly better condition