A Journey Through Karamoja-land

Friday before last, we traveled the approximately 400 kilometers from Moroto to Kampala. The majority of the trip is on a dirt road carved in major potholes, causing us to rarely get the Landcruiser above 40 km/hr. For a drive that, as Daddy Dub figured out, is less than the distance between Sherman and Lubbock, the time it takes to reach Kampala from Moroto is between 7 and 10 hours.

The roadtrip, however, is beautiful and I never get tired of staring out the window. At the start of the trip from Moroto, we travel through many of the villages where Seth’s team distributes food. No one stays in their huts; people are all out in the sun doing various activities: women and girls are fetching water, sifting and drying seeds, sweeping the dirt outside and around their huts with make-shift brooms made out of sticks or reeds. Women wave and laugh while the teenage girls stop and stare, giving a shy smile as we pass. Young, half-naked and dirty children are playing hopscotch, tag, or wrestling, or running to the road where they hear a vehicle coming waving and screaming “mzungu!” Men and boys could be found herding goats or cows along with a stick as the animals find brush to eat or sitting on their hand-carved stools underneath an acacia tree talking and passing time.

There are two differences that stand out to me so far between the Langi people near Lira and the Karamajong surrounding Moroto. One difference is the way they dress. The Karamajong women wear 5 or 6 layers of yellow, white, red and blue beads wrapped around their necks. A certain color, (perhaps white), is a sign of beauty and availability for young women. For older women, the beads represent a sign of “wealth” (i.e. possessing cows and goats). The women also wear knee-length, multi-layered and multi-colored broom skirts. They decorate their ankles, wrists, and ears with bracelets and earrings.

The men and boys wrap themselves in red plaid cloth draped over one shoulder. Sometimes they wear additional clothes underneath the cloth and sometimes they don’t. In addition, many women and men have flesh bumps that form a pattern around their eyes and foreheads. This is also a sign of beauty and style and is done by making tiny cuts on the face in a pattern and pouring some sort of solution or poison that reacts with the skin causing it to bubble up. Then, as the cuts heal, bumpy scars are formed causing the patterns.

Do I think the bumps are beautiful as the Karamojong do? Well… definitely not yet. In fact, I think they make them look mean and fierce, which might be the point. However, the longer I’m here, the more I might begin to see the beauty in them.

Another difference between the Langi people and the Karamajong is the amount of friendliness exhibited by each tribe. The Karamajong, a more uncivilized group than the Langi, are less friendly and seem distrustful. Suffering from the drought that has wracked parts of Somalia and Sudan as well, the Karamojong have relied on dried goods from the World Food Program, distributed by NGO’s such as Samaritan’s Purse, for the last 40 years. The able-bodied are now given assistance with seeds and tools for gardens and are required to work to receive food. The vulnerable, (elderly and children), still receive food rations without the requirement to work. The people live in fear of weather conditions, the possibility of food assistance cutbacks, and the threat of cattle raids. While many will smile and wave, still others will stare with a look somewhere between a scowl and wonder.

After the first 3 hours on the drive from Moroto to Kampala, the dry, bushy terrain begins to change to taller acacia trees and then to marshy rice fields. Inhabited villages are few and far between at this point and I either choose to keep an eye out for the great variety of wild birds to be spotted or let the jerky ride of the vehicle amazingly lull me to sleep.

Once we are out of Karamojaland and stop in the bustling city of Mbale for frostbitten ice cream, (but ice cream, nonetheless), we excitedly know we are getting close to Kampala, the land of multi-ethnic foods, cappuccinos, dirt and vehicle exhaust that will choke you, dirt-cheap massages and pedicures, boda rides, and the movie theater… oh yeah, and the SP Cycle Management Training.

During the month here so far, I’m colliding with a lot of emotions: exhilaration, trepidation, affection, joy, boredom, spiritual thirst, and fulfillment. I’ve also experienced somewhat of an identity crisis, an increasing burden for the impoverished and lost, and some moments of loneliness. Although the positive emotions are what we all naturally strive for, I welcome the not-so-positive ones, too. I think in the midst of those emotions are when I pray more, grow closer in my relationships, and learn to be still.