Friday, May 25, 10:00 am, Cafe Larem

It has been very nice having running water (sporadic) and electricity. Although it is noisy staying in Gulu town, it wasn't all that quiet at Laroo. When an exorcism isn't taking place, Santo blasts his radio from about 3:00 am on. The video hall blasts music until about 1:00 am so that leaves maybe 2 hours when it's quiet. We will meet up with Dr. David today and this evening cook our pasta meal for about 12-14 people. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone again. Annie has met many of her Gulu friends as we have walked in town and I'm pretty sure she'll get together with them on Saturday night. Last night I started to watch "Bridesmaids" with Annie on her computer and I thought how strange it was to do this in a hotel in Gulu. Creature comforts are nice but it's good to see how full life can be without them as well. I haven't written much about the Gulu Referral Hospital experience. We will take pictures of the Infectious Disease area of the hospital today since Fridays are the day for completing paper work. There will be no patients. The clinic is composed of two narrow buildings with an open space in the middle. That's where all the patients wait for hours and hours to be seen. Part of the space is covered with a tin roof to protect from the sun and rain. There are picnic benches and open spaces where women can place their mats for themselves and the children. There isn't an open space anywhere. It's just filled with people. The exam rooms are essentially separate rooms in the two buildings. Confidentiality is important, as the head sister told us, but it's kind of hard to respect confidentiality in this setting. I have gotten the impression from a number of people that Gulu Referral Hospital (government-run) is pretty good. The wait times for testing are shorter than TASO (http://www.enteruganda.com/brochures/aids2009-05.html), an NGO organization down the road. TASO was preferred at one point because of its ability to provide other support such as nets, food, etc. Of course, as I write all of this, you should take it with a grain of salt because I'm simply listening to the impressions of a few. We had to wait there in the open space quite a bit since the staff is so very busy that it takes time for them to help Annie get set up with interviewees. What do you do? I try not to stare but there's nowhere to look. There's just a sea of people. It's not really a sad place because these are the lucky ones who are or will be in treatment. On the other hand, saying people have "access" to ART (antiretroviral therapy) doesn't tell you much about the hardships that accompany access. But it is what it is and I'm pretty sure that all the people I've met at the clinic are the kind of people that look forward, not backwards and see how things have improved while keep an eye on the places where so much more needs to be done. The war brought so much attention to the people of Northern Uganda and many international organizations came in with financial and other resources, including personnel, to deal with the immediate effects and after-effects of the war. But many of those organizations and programs have packed up, some without an exit strategy that would provide for sustainability. I do sense that there's some sense of abandonment but I haven't picked up that it there's a bitterness associated with it. Overall, my impression of the people I have met is that they are resilient, hospitable, and kind. But at night, I want to be inside. We ate a delicious chicken curry dinner last night and walked back to the hotel, stopping by a market to get some things for the pasta supper. Annie knows the roads that are lit at night and where the Ugandan guards are posted because it's just not safe at night. That's it for now.