Rap music started in Southwest Uganda.

Or, at least that was the claim by the MC at the Ndere Dance Troupe performance that I went to this last Sunday. And I think there is a definite possibility that this statement is true. Because, if rap music didn’t originate in Uganda, then dance, drumming, and every form of theatrical expression certainly did. As if the concert I attended last weekend wasn’t enough to make the white girl feel bad about the way that she can move, this experience worked to make me fairly ashamed of every Caucasian out there attempting to dance…

The 3 hour performance I saw was put on by the Ndere Center, which is a cultural development organization that has been in Uganda for the last 25 years. They have over 9 acres of land close by my Ntinda neighborhood, and the Ndere Troupe (the performing arts section) puts on performances every Sunday and Wednesday evening. The performance took place in a small outdoor amphitheatre, with the audience forming a semi-circle around an open cobblestone area. Two stone staircases, which the performers used as both a prop and an exit, stretched from the perimeter of the amphitheatre to the open area. The performance, which incorporated 30+ artists, was a combination of story telling, dancing, singing, and drumming, with each region of Uganda represented by its traditional dance and costume. It goes without saying that each dance was absolutely captivating, and the drumming gave me the chills, but what I was particularly struck by was the artistry and physicality that emanated from each performer. These dances were not choreographed by professional dancers, but have developed through the generational transmission of oral stories and cultural practices. Because of this, they illustrate some raw strain of what dance and music are supposed to mean to a culture and people. If smiles are a universal symbol, then dance is a universal language, because even though I couldn’t understand what was being sung, the unconscious, emotional part of me could translate and interpret what I was watching and hearing. I’ve always thought of “performance” as something orchestrated and planned, and while this was in no way unpolished or unprofessional, I kept feeling as though what I was watching was really just unfiltered human emotion, expressed in dance and song. I sat wondering how the dancers were able to remember each step and contort their hips in such ways, as well as if they even had to learn how to dance in such a way. A part of me thinks that the ability to move and “feel” music is a Ugandan birthright. All and all, even though I am trying to do so here, it was and experience that cannot be articulated in any way to do it justice.

For those of you who have waited oh so patiently for updates on my internship, here are the latest details:
After three whirlwind days, and too much time spent in a non-air conditioned car in Kampala traffic, I have completed my key interviews with four organizations and businesses who are engaged in commercialized agriculture within Uganda. I think that the interviews went pretty well, and I am now in the process of transcribing the interviews; a process which is tiresome not only because of its slow pace but also for the fact that I have to hear my voice on a recording. And for those of you who have concluded that I have a man voice…(those more sensitive labeled it “unique”)…my vote is now with you. And for others who told me I should never learn German—to avoid sounding like a Gestapo officer—it has been duly noted. I will never speak German. Sorry Tess.
In the coming week I will begin my field work, with my first trip to a pineapple farming area in Luwero, which is about an hour north of Kampala. The following weeks will all be spent traveling and holding focus group discussions with different farmers in districts throughout Uganda. While I’m sure that the actual transport to these different areas will be exhausting (and aggravating when I think of road travel in the U.S.), I’m ready to see areas outside of Kampala, to have a better idea of social and economic gap between those in the rural area and those in the city. The interviews will also help me get a better sense of farming within the country, what could benefit farmers, and what the most pressing issues are. When you conduct interviews with the organization managers and personnel, you hear them rattle off their mission statement and how many beneficiaries they are working with. It’s all nice, but half of the time you are wondering a) if they are actually doing something that gets to the root cause of development issues b) if the same praises will be sung by the farmers themselves.

I’m planning a trip to go to Kigali, Rwanda this weekend to see the genocide memorial, as I know that if I do not visit while I am so close, I will kick myself later. While not necessarily what would fall under the category of “fun,” especially alone, I think that it will be a sobering experience that will resituate my opinions, perspective, and goals. When I mentioned to Brenda in the office that I was having trouble contacting hotels in Kigali, as none of the numbers I had would go through, she immediately sent me to speak to Mary, another worker in the office. Mary, who is from Rwanda, got on the phone, called her brother, and told him to go and book a hotel for me at a place he thought was reputable and in the city. She then told him that he would be picking me up from the bus station on Friday morning and that he should also take me to the Nyamata Church memorial site. In the space of ten minutes, someone who owes me absolutely nothing had coordinated lodging and transportation for my personal trip. It is this kind of selflessness—found in every person I meet and work with—which makes the heat, the dirt, and the omnipresent smell of ripe armpits and burning trash bearable.