So, Rush Limbaugh Supports the Lord's Resistance Army

In a spectacular example of supreme dicketry, Rush Limbaugh openly criticized Obama's decision to send 100 troops to Uganda as support for the continued hunt for Joseph Kony, leader of the Lord's Resistance Army. Rush believes that the LRA are Christians fighting Muslims in Sudan, fighting to end the oppression of Ugandans and of gross violations of human rights - the LRA's "objectives", which naturally should be taken at face value. At the end of the transcript someone apparently informed Rush that the LRA is accused of "really bad stuff", such as child kidnapping, torture and murder, but all Rush knows is that "we got a hundred troops being sent over there to fight these guys -- and they claim to be Christians."

FYI, the official name of North Korea is the Democratic People's Republic of North Korea, but that doesn't mean the country is democratic. Same goes for the Lord's Resistance Army, which has terrorized northern Uganda for over 20 years. Attacks there have diminished, but only because the LRA has moved to the CAR and eastern DRC, with massacres happening there despite the presence of the largest humanitarian force on the world (MONUC). I don't know yet how to feel about 100 US troops in Uganda to help the search for Kony - it hasn't worked before and is likely that Kony isn't in Uganda, where the majority view is he should be granted amnesty so the whole ordeal can be dealt with locally, without the ICC - but I do know how I feel about hateful ignorance.

Maybe try Google next time, Rush, before you shit out of your mouth again.

Catching Up

The close-call heart attack I had this morning was quickly remedied: Blogger kindly restored my cooking blog after I wrote to them that I had no idea why it would have been removed (because I didn't, though I suspected it was somehow related to the hacking of my gmail account) and shortly thereafter Cooking The Globe was back online with additional site moderation. Yay!

In other news, I have been unfortunately slack in keeping up-to-date with the news, be it international, local or personal. I blame it on the stresses of moving and relocating (which is legitimate enough: last weekend was the first time in two months Seth and I didn't have to go anywhere. I felt guilty not doing anything.) I also have no idea how to comment on the plethora of shit going on in the world currently so I will do what so many Americans do and simply ignore it. Weee, now life is simple!

Oh, except I am still writhing in pity and self-doubt as I attempt to write cover letters for potential jobs. I have finally written two sentences describing that I am, indeed, awesome; now I just two paragraphs detailing that assertion (nay: fact.) My lack of faith in my abilities amazes not only me, but my husband as well. Woe is me, I know.

On a positive note I have been learning Austin streets through the age-old tactic of driving around and getting lost; my kitty is adorable and will stick his face in mine in the morning, meowing, until I pet him - yes, that is adorable rather than annoying; and my friend Kerry and I solidified our undying devotion to the movie Showgirls with tattoos. Our love is eternal.

 

Pretty good silhouette on our legs, eh?

And there it is. Damn, I currently miss Uganda (and Africa in general) something fierce right now, though unsurprisingly, not Kuwait. Hopefully Seth and I will be able to make enough money to be able to travel a bit (albeit not at frequently as before.) Of course, I also hope I will get a job in the (near) future that will pay me to travel around the globe. How can I cover it without visiting it? There, I just gave myself a third excuse. I should add that talent to my list of awesomeness in those cover letters.

HIRE ME!

Uganda Elections and Some Other Things

Uganda's presidential elections were over a week ago (February 18) and I apologize for taking this long to express my opinion; I blame the tests and trials of moving. Museveni garnered over 68% of the vote, winning a fourth term and surprising no one. Despite claims of irregularity (voting materials arriving late at some locations, security personnel seen as intimidating at others) there was relatively little violence (less than one hundred people were arrested for fighting and bringing weapons to polling stations)the vote is widely held as valid and M7 will lead Ugandans through 2016 and undoubtedly bring Ugandan politics to a new level of corruption.

M7's practice of dirty politicking is not a secret:all Ugandans know that he pays off MPs in order to have Parliamentary votes swing in his favor; that he uses government funds for private purposes (such as this most recent election campaign); and, though he claims to work for and understand the poor rural masses, M7 actively retains money in the urban centers, making Uganda's poor poorer. But he stills gets votes because on one side you have people who align themselves with the M7 and the NRM, thus hoping to benefit from the spoils, and the other side you have those who become apathetic and no longer believe it is worth it to try and vote Museveni out of office. He will leave when he leaves, so why not just wait?

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately for M7) there are other countries who currently demand our attention: Cote d'Ivoire, Libya, Bahrain, and now Oman (not to mention continued attention being paid to Egypt, Tunisia and Yemen.) Additional thoughts on Ugandan corruption will have to wait.

Countdown to Uganda's Elections

Ugandans head to the polls on the 18th to elect the next president, though I use the word "next" loosely: Museveni will likely win and remain in power for another five years. However, Museveni's main opposition, Kiiza Besigye, has warned that he will "support a popular protest against an illegitimate decision of the election," noting that the police do not have the power to "prevent a protest like the ones in Tunisia and Egypt."

Strong words, but despite possible election rigging and harassment of opposition parties, I doubt Ugandans will rise up in revolution if Museveni remains in office, despite Besigye's claim of supporting "a popular protest against an illegitimate decision of the election." Uganda does not have the fear, uncertainty and harassment which led citizens to revolt in Tunisia, Yemen and Egypt. Museveni may be a dictator, but he is seen as the lesser of many evils and following elections, the status quo will remain the same.

Back to Basics

US midterms are over and newspapers & magazines are full of thoughtful commentary on the future of our political parties,what we can expect from now until 2012, what Obama should do, etc., etc, so it's time for me to return to something I know about: Africa. Well, central Africa, at least. I am far behind on what's happening in the States and most days spend my time trying to stay no more than a day behind on the current events there. I am certainly not qualified to write opinions about it. Not that I am a great Africanist, but I do feel more comfortable within that area of knowledge.

Which means it's time to turn to another upcoming election: Uganda's presidential election in January 2011. I wish, badly, that I would be in country that month but it is not to be. Nevertheless, I will be sure to keep you (and me) well informed of this occasion. Will the FDC defeat the ruling NRM? If Museveni is defeated will he quietly abdicate? Is it possible he could be fairly defeated? My friends there tell me if the election is truly fair then the FDC will take power, but being honest and pragmatic Ugandans they are not holding their breath. We shall see.

Exploiting Poverty Is Awesome!

Please look at this flyer. Take your time. Here's the back:


The print may be small, but you should be able to read it. However, I'll paraphrase it for you:

Eager to experience life in the slum?

Well, you know, I am curious as to how those people live, but it can't be safe to walk through such a place.

No worries - you're guided by people who are from the slums! You can visit families where people are dying from AIDS and who knows what else. You can also visit prostitutes and give them condoms! Imagine how grateful they'll be! Maybe there will be time to pop into a school so children whom you will never see again (nor they you) can greet and sing for you. It's awesome!

Plus, since you'll be with a local person, you can take pictures! With no guilt! After all, what's the point of experiencing slum life if you can't show others what it's like? Show them that you intimately understand the problems facing the poorest of the poor.

And . . . breathe.

I had forgotten about this brochure I found in Red Chilli's information area, with advertisements for all sorts of activities available to the tourist in Uganda. Hmm, gorilla trekking, safari, ooo! slum tour! I am sure AFFCAD is doing wonderful things, but exploiting people in this way can't be one of them. I-I am not sure - what the fuck are you experiencing in a four-hour tour? How is this any different from a human zoo? Doesn't the organization realize this? Doesn't anyone who would even consider taking this trip? It would be better to simply donate 20,000ugx.

I am filled with questions and frustration. What do you think?

Bombs and the Horn

With at least 74 people dead following bomb attacks at two locations in Kampala, Somalia is receiving renewed attention (thanks to Al Shabab claiming responsibility) - but to what end? It is unlikely that the attacks will encourage African nations (especially Uganda) to remove troops from Somalia - increased engagement in more likely - but is that the best solution for peace and a viable government in Somalia?

What does it take to remove the monikers of "failed state" and "terrorist haven" from Somalia? More diplomatic attention, especially from Arab states? Greater focus on clan coalitions? The past 20 years of conflict prove that there is no easy answer (considering how complicated the situation is) but surely there's a better way than simply try to keep the fighting - and refugees - from spilling over into neighboring countries?

So many questions, but all pointing in the same direction: the need for a secure and politically viable Horn. Without that, how can we expect safety and development in East Africa - or all of Africa, for that matter?

Oh, Uganda (5)

Cheap food.

Yes, I have been out of the country for over a week now, but I can still post the things I will miss. Like these crayfish.

A fisherman came to The Heart selling 100 for 1,500ugx; I bought 200. 200 crayfish for 3,000ugx - that's not even a $1.50. Sweet, delicious, fresh crayfish, buck and a half, right at your doorstep. Not to mention the most amazing pineapples (25 cents); tart passion fruits (1kilo = $1); mangos and guavas straight from the tree - and jackfruits, too! What's not to love?

Oh, Uganda (Good-Bye)

For now, that is. I'll be back. I've come back before. I won't mourn or dwell on our parting, however. There are exciting things promised on the horizon.

I am horrible with good-byes. When confronted with the responsibility of leaving someone I call either a friend or acquaintance, I do not know what is expected of me. Do I make promises that I will write very often, either by email or by post? I know myself: with my poor track record of regular correspondence that would be an outright lie. Swear I will never forget them? That we will meet again, regardless of what the future brings? I will not make promises based on outcomes I cannot possibly know.

The real problem is that I an uncomfortable with confrontation and, ultimately, that's what saying good-bye is (though hopefully with friendly tones.) I prefer a simple "See you later!", where "later"holds so many possibilities: it could be tomorrow or two years from now; why qualify it? And then I just slip away - gone. No time to create reasons for future guilt. Of the people we encounter in life, some are remembered vividly, others vaguely, while still others are completely forgotten - why prolong them with false promises of eternity?

I write this with a knowledge of my own slippery character. My vanity is not so large as to suppose I am indelibly imposed in the minds of all I meet. We are all passing acquaintances to someone, so it is better to focus on the now, rather than dwell on the future or even the past. What does "good-bye"do but close forever the possibilities of now, forcing us out of the act of living and into the static realm of memory?

So no "good-bye"or even "until next time", but rather breathe in the forever prospects of "later".

Oh, Uganda (4)

Oh, Francis' Joint, how I will miss your chips/liver! Seriously, when I was in Kuwait over the Christmas holidays I found myself craving the muchomo from this place, so I can imagine how bad it will be for the first couple of months after leaving.

Francis' Joint: the best chips in Kabale. I could eat here for several days in a row (and have.) Unfortunately this means Francis' Joint is also partially to blame for the few pounds I've put on since September, but that's what happens when you're eating french fries all the time.

But it's not just that the food is delicious - it's also cheap. 2,000 shillings for chips/liver, chips/beef or chips/egg - not even a dollar. Add to the fact that a cold (or somehow cold) Eagle is only 1,400ugx and you'll easily understand how this is the perfect meal.

However, as I tend to eat lunch here, the beer has the unfortunate side-effect of putting me to sleep for several hours. Therefore, in addition to weight gain, I also lay partial blame of my recent workplace inefficiency on this joint.

Luckily, the beer is cheap enough that I can just drink another and forget about work completely. Pretty damn efficient, actually.

Oh, Uganda (3)

Pooing. Out and out (quite literally) pooing. This isn't Uganda so much as it's Kabale. Kabale just hates me. I've gotten worms twice since I came last year. One of those times was visiting Sipi Falls with Seth and we had to pay for a private taxi to get back to Kampala, just so he would stop the every thirty minutes or so I needed to poo. And some of the places I had to use made me so ashamed - me! - I tried to hide my face from the flies buzzing around.

I'll even admit this to you: I've actually shit myself. What? Worms are hell.

Though there are many things I will miss about Uganda, lack of solid poo is not one of them. It's not only worms; maybe I don't boil my drinking water long enough? Regardless, shit sucks.

Oh, Uganda (2)

Candles. Oh, so-very-useful candles. For the constant blackouts in Kabale. Like the recent - oh, wait, no, make that current - one which has lasted for almost 24 hours. At least not 4 days. Yet.

Oh, Uganda

Because I am a shameless, shameless thief, I am copying Foxy by Nature and giving you some photos of the Uganda I know and love as I prepare to leave (again). And because it's an easy way to publish a post while I work on deeper thoughts.

Here are some beginning swimmers (Bufuka Primary School, Lake Bunyonyi), practicing the art of blowing air through one's nose.

Zimbabwe and Stuff

I have met scores of travelers here in Uganda, largley due to the fact that my office is in a hostel and, until about a month ago, I lived in one. This encounters have been both pleasant and unfortunate, which can only be expected within the wide spectrum of people who decide to "explore the continent." Naturally the pleasant encounters aren't all that interesting or exciting - when are they ever? - but the unfortunate, or douchebag, encounters are almost always memorable.

Recently a young(ish) American male came to Kabale. He was traveling alone, having begun in South Africa and slowly making his way to Egypt. He had been able to spend a few weeks in each country, so naturally we (I and others around) were in the presence of a great Africanist. According to this seasoned scholar, the whole Mugabe-dictator-problems-in-Zimbabwe-thing is all just a Western media construct (Yes, he used that word!), because he was just there and in Harare there was food and people were smiling when he greeted them. So, you know, you could just tell they were happy and stuff.

My god, we've been fooled all along.

Traveling Makes Me Crazy, Part 1 - Buses

The smile is all show.

And matatus, for good measure. See, this is part one because my journey inevitably begins with a bus trip, but also ends with one. Funny thing, up until yesterday I thought I would simply be ranting about the lack of timeliness with the bus system. Hahahahaha! Just you wait.

Let me start with this observation: I hate buses. There is nothing that tries your patience as much as the endless, endless waiting you have to endure on a bus trip; it's Africa time exponentially worsened. However, I normally take the Post Bus from Kabale-Kampala or vice versa because, though it is much slower (averaging 9 hours) it leaves the Post Office on time - and that, to me, makes all the difference. From then on, I just open a window slightly, let the wind lull me to sleep, jump off at the larger stops to pee, and so on. I can deal.

Except when the Post Bus randomly acts like a regular coach bus, which was the case when I recently traveled from Kabale-Kampala. I arrived at the Post Office at 6:30, as I always do: the bus leaves at 7 and I am early enough to not have to fight my way on and find a good seat. Yet in front of me was an ever-growing crowd of people and no bus. So we waited, for over an hour, until the bus showed up already half-full, prompting a swarming of the door and much elbowing to get inside. Seems the bus had driven around to various villages picking up people, exactly what its not supposed to do. We then stopped at every roadside stand between Kabale and Mbarara so the conductor and driver could buy matooke, tomatoes, pumpkins, pineapples, etc, etc. To make matters worse, I wasn't near window opening and, since Ugandans hate wind in their face, no one would open a window, which meant I woke from fretful naps profusely pouring sweat. In order to get some respite I would stick my face against a crack in the window to feel the barest bit of breeze

"Are you tired?" the man next to me asked?
"I'm just fucking hot!"

Not so bad, though, until I tried to return to Kabale a couple of weeks later. The Post Bus was again late (bastards!) so I decided, "Screw it, I'll just take my chances with a regular coach." Fateful words! I arrived at the Horizon bus station at 8:30 for the "9:30" bus, but it was raining. As we all know Ugandans are made of sugar, the rain meant that few people were willing to risk leaving their homes, so the bus took a fabulous four hours to fill. Trying! But to be fair, once we got underway we were making excellent time, reaching Mbarara before 5:30. "Not so bad, after all," I thought, and began to alternately read and doze, until suddenly:

CRASH! (The sound of the bus rear-ending a truck.)

WHAM! (The sound of my head violently hitting the seat in front of me.)

What happens when a bus hits a semi.

On a positive note, the accident did allow me to go off and pee, though it did leave everyone stranded on the side of the road while every penis within twenty kilometers had his say in the ensuing argument. I'm pretty sure they're equipped with some sort of radar that alerts them whenever three or more men are grouped together.

Half of these people weren't on the bus.

Seeing that nothing would be resolved any time soon, I hopped on a matatu or, considering it was jammed with about 25 people, a "coffin on wheels." So many people, in fact, that I was amazed (and irritated) each time the conductor stopped to add more. Three hours in this claustrophobic hell and again, because of the whole wind thing, no open windows. At one point in Ntungamo, when we stopped in order to properly fill up all available space, passengers began violently arguing with the conductor about the inflated price of passage. My head pounding from the accident, ears ringing form the yelling and almost in tears with frustration and no air, I lost it. "For the love of god, can't we just fucking move!?" Poor little mzungu losing her head; it did nothing.

I finally rolled into Kabale around 9pm, tired, thirsty, dirty and desperately in need of a poo. God damn it, I hate buses.

Traveling Make Me Crazy, Part 2

Both crazy.

Which on one hand is odd, considering how much I travel, yet because of how much I travel, also quite understandable. This current trip to Kuwait, though, was big even for me.

To start, I was in alternating moods of absolute panic and apathetic reserve over the fact that my Ugandan visa was almost three weeks expired. Considering how many travelers I meet by living in a hostel I was sure I would find someone who had overstayed their visit, yet passed through immigration with no problems, but it seems the travelers available at the time were much more cautious than I had hoped. Laurie, who works with Edirisa Multimedia, had once overextended by two days and after rough questioning by immigration she burst into tears and that let her off. Hmm, not the best advice, but it was something to work with. However, my panic increased a thousandfold when I discovered the penalty fee was $30/ day, totaling about $600 for me.

Oh, Jesus, I may faint.

The U.S. Embassy, which I realize probably can't give advice on illegally exiting the country, told me to head to the Immigration Office as soon as possible. Useless advice, as the office would only make me pay. I'll just risk it at the airport.

While heading to the airport I steeled myself with the knowledge that no expiration date was written on my visa, a thought heavily supported by half a bottle of wine and a Xanax. No one can stop me! Yet who knew the most trouble I would have would be at the check-in counter? Seth made my reservation using my bankcard, which means I didn't have it with me. Not ever having been asked to show the card used before, I thought it unnecessary. Apparently Emirates Airlines does not agree. The attendant explained that if he let me through, the airlines might not accept my ticket.

"But if you let me through, it means the airline has accepted my ticket."
"What?"
"You know, logic: if you let me through, it means I get through. No one else will ask questions."
"What?"

Ah. I tried to explain that the card has my name on it, which matches the name on my passport, but no. I called Seth to provide some sort of confirmation for the card and was even prepared to pull out my marriage certificate, but no: I would have to buy another ticket at the airport or my husband would have to go to a travel agency and another one. That option was easily ruled out.

"My husband is working, he can't just run off to a travel agency."
"Your husband is working today?"
"Yes, like you, my husband works on Saturday."

Not that I wanted to cancel my flight and be stuck with price of the ticket plus a cancellation fee. When I explained the fact that airlines don't refund tickets because of customer error, the attendant kindly informed me that I was speaking of "airlines", but this was Emirates. Ah.

"Well, until Emirates begins teleporting people, it's still an airline."*
"What?" Considering the attendant, while working for an airline, had likely never flown in his life, I let the matter drop.

And they better provide the glitter effect free of charge.

The other irritating fact is that Entebbe doesn't have the technology to handle plastic transactions, which meant I would have to withdraw over $700 in cash to pay for a new ticket. Yet, frantic as I was about my visa, and the time it might take to convince immigration to let me through, I was almost tempted to go ahead and go through the trouble of getting another ticket.

I don't have Picard's willpower.

Then the attendant got a hold of someone in Dubai and asked the pivotal question:

"Can you confirm your billing address?"

And with that done I was clear. Off to the bathroom to apply a bit of blush and mascara, then skillfully chose the immigration line with a male attendant. With barely a glance at my passport or my face, he asked:

"How long have you been in Uganda?"
"About three months."
"Have a safe flight." Stamp. Stamp. Stamp.

What a total waste of a Xanax.


*It turns out Emirates only charges a $75 cancellation fee and will fully refund your ticket if you reschedule your flight. Federation of Planets, here we come.

Stop Malaria!

Today, one of the students in baby class at Edirisa's Kyabahinga nursery died, two days after a P4 student from Kyabahinga Primary died, as well. The culprit? Malaria and a lack a health services at Lake Bunyonyi.

Malaria kills one million people a year, the majority of whom are women and children, despite the fact that malaria is both preventable and curable. With proper education, mosquito-control activities and adequate, affordable & available medicine, malaria's impact can be easily cut in half.

STOP MALARIA NOW!

Some Help from My Friends

Wow! I am amazed - and then again, not - at how little I've posted this year. I'll blame poor internet connection/ service and my own laziness. To be fair, from January to March all I could think about was my impending wedding (ceremony), which was pretty awesome. (Most of you probably know that it was the one-year anniversary for Seth and me, but we were married in a courthouse - to the knowledge of no one - and wanted an actual ceremony to commemorate our union.)

Notice something (or someone) else in the picture? Yes, it's my best friend, Kerry, who came out to officiate the service and otherwise join in drunken debauchery like only the Sergeant and I can achieve. Per our request she brought not only one, but two bottles of Crown (unfortunately impossible to find anywhere this side of the Atlantic.) Can't you just feel my happiness?

Pssst - I've already been drinking!

Whiskey-induced euphoria aside, however, having the Nomi to my Malone (and Seth's Penny) along for the ride reminded me just how amazing it is to have close friends in new places. It doesn't matter where you are or what you are doing, because your own personal world is the same.

Literally.

True, it's not the best way to explore due to the fact that you are permanently insulated from overexposure, but to someone who lives in a distant place by herself (me!) it offers a wonderful breathe of comfort and familiarity. Not to say that when Seth visits (or I visit Seth) there is not also a sense of comfortable familiarity, but it's different: Seth brings love and passion and protection; Seth brings himself. And when he leaves, or I leave, I miss him, period.

Kerry's visit, on the other hand, was a piece of home brought to Uganda. And when she flew back to the States, she left me with an intense longing for home that I didn't realize existed. I enjoyed Kerry's company not only because she's my best friend, but also because of what she represented. Her departure left a deep hole in me, worsened by Seth's departure a few days later. I had both love and home with me for two weeks and when those went away I never felt more alone in this country.

After I returned to Uganda following the Christmas holidays, I spoke with Solveigh (a German volunteer working with Edirisa crafts; also my awesome wedding photographer) about how difficult it was to leave my life in Uganda for a short time, then return. Everything is so different, even in Kuwait, not to mention how easily I become accustomed to living with Seth; then with constant readjustment being frustrating and incredibly exhausting: wouldn't it have been better not to have left at all? Is deprivation the key to overcoming loneliness?

My pictures tell me, "No."

A Return, with Chicken Heads

This is one pissed off chicken.

Wow, the length of time I've been away would suggest I've been incredibly busy and productive elsewhere, but really I've just been focused on the wedding. Which is odd in itself considering this wedding will probably be one of the most low-key affairs ever seen, at least here in Uganda. I suppose it's more accurate to write: I am anxiously awaiting Seth's arrival.

Nevertheless I have managed to add new skills to my repertoire: I slaughtered two chickens. Yep, slaughtered.

Let me tell you, it's much more difficult than I thought. There's the whole "cutting the head off" bit, but also the time leading up to the act. I was so excited at first - buying the hens and all - but when the time came my heart was pumping itself into my throat.

The first one (the white lady pictured) had quite a bit of fight to her, so along with struggling she began to shriek as I cut, which caused me to shriek and and drop the knife after only cutting halfway - one of the spectators had to finish the job. We then just threw the body in the pot - no need to get blood all over the ground! I thought - and discovered that chickens do run around like they've had their heads cut off - when they've actually had their heads cut off. It was quite horrible, really: at one point the thing actually got on it's feet and did a mad sort of scramble forward. You can tell how shocked we all were by the lack of pictures.

The second one was no worries, the head coming off without time for the hen to even realize it. I've got it now. I think my parents would be so proud to know that the suburbs didn't completely spoil their child.

Yes, the ladies were delicious.


Now to work on a goat . . . .

Uganda and Homosexualiy: A Response

Several weeks ago I published a post about the West's preoccupation with the pending anti-homosexuality bill ni Uganda while completing disregarding actual instances of violence and upheaval in the country. I received a few replies noting that homosexuality is currently a "hot-button issue" in the States and therefore the (possible) involvement of Americans in the creation of the bill is what makes it so intriguing to the press. I admit I wrote my blog quickly and so did not fully explain my point; I will attempt to do that now.

There is the obvious theme behind the media coverage that the Ugandan parliament is only considering such a bill due to the powerful influence of the American pastors, an offensive suggestion that removes all agency from Ugandans and their ability to think and act independently of Western interference. Furthermore, African nations are often portrayed as violent and unstable regions. Thus, articles that include such phrases as "in a country where already thieves are attacked by deadly mobs" suggest that Uganda is a dangerous place that will only become more so with the passage of an anti-gay bill, which is completely false: Uganda is one of the safest country's on the continent and it is unlikely that the bill would change that. However, the image of Africa, and Uganda, as violent still pushes through in a self-fulfilling agenda: as reports come through largely in pictures and removed from all context, thus removing the possibility of understanding Africa in new ways.

LGBT rights are unquestionably on the minds of many Americans and internationals alike, with Prop 8 being contested in California courts and the recent legalization of same-sex marriages in Portugal. At the same time, considering the level of disappointment resulting from the Copenhagen Climate Conference and the continued involvement of America in the Middle East, so are the environment and oil. Yet scarce attention is given to oil drilling in Lake Albert, situated along Murchison Falls National park, home to several endangered species including leopard, elephant and shoebill stork. Though oil companies and President Museveni have vowed to ensure that drilling with clean and environmentally sound (despite a clear history of oil's negative impact on the continent) the newest oil contracts clearly take no account of the effects on the local populations, climate or wildlife, but rather are another example of company profit at the expense of country development. Also missing from Western media is discussion of the potential human disaster of drilling for oil in an area that straddles Uganda, a relatively stable country, and the Democratic Republic of Congo, which notoriously is not. Perhaps the assumption is that particular border has seen conflict for at least the past fourteen years, so what's a little more?

Before joining the Western media's love affair with a potential bill, it's important to step back and see what the media is deleting from the news - and then consider how many innocent people die and how much land is destroyed in the international pursuit of oil and wealth.