Sunday, December 06, 2009

On the trail of a long-horned insect


My friend Michelle posted this on her blog, so I decided to share it as well - it is grasshopper season here, or nsenene as they call them! They are delicacies, fried up & eaten as crunchy snacks - though I don't find myself craving these creatures, I've had a few & they're not too bad!


From Monitor Online
On the trail of a long-horned insect
Posted in: News
Dec 5, 2009 - 1:36:25 AM

Nearly every Ugandan takes the arrival of nsenene for granted. But the hunt for them is an act of survival that mirrors the story of life and death, as Saturday Monitor’s Rodney Muhumuza reports


If the wall had not been too high, or if the frantic girl in a school uniform had been tall enough, this would have been a quick catch. As fast as the hungry crows hovering in mid-air, as if marking their territory, Julie Nabbosa would have moved to her next target.


Yet height was not the only thing the girl did not have on her side. In this verdant tract of land that overlooks a railway line, where destitute people grow corn and the grass is tall enough to hide the face of a six-year-old girl, Nabbosa could have done with a lot of favours.

There were other boys and girls offering competition, and an adventurous incursion into bushes could leave her bruised. A foray into railway-line territory could be as disastrous as a foolish attempt to climb a rough wall with bare hands. At the very least, these children were bound to suffer terrible itches from hours spent romancing the grass.

Clutching bottles, some nearly full with the objects of their passion, Nabbosa and her horde could not have been fully aware of the risks they were taking. If they were --- and the oldest among them looked to be in his early teens --- they probably did not care.

It was 10a.m. on a rainy morning in an industrial part of Kampala, in the Namuwongo suburb, and these children were here for business. If the bottles they carried showed intent, and if the anxiety on their faces betrayed urgency, each of these children was a veritable soldier.

After all, this was November, season of the grasshoppers, or musenene, when young and old are not embarrassed to chase after tiny insects, when market vendors have to update their stock with a hot addition; when so many Ugandans have to pay expensively to get a taste of the new season.

The insects, known to everyone as simply nsenene, are a type of bush cricket that comes in hues ranging from light green to dark brown and to an improbable purple. In street talk, nsenene (the species Ruspolia baileyi) are said to “migrate” from the central region, in Masaka, to different parts of Uganda --- in gardens, on street poles, on high walls, and in the kinds of bushes Nabbosa was not afraid to negotiate.
“I will go home and fry them,” the girl said, her face contorted with coyness after a stranger asked to know why she was not at school.
“I am going home now.”

The man, looking down at her from his second-storey office, was within reach of several of the insects Nabbosa would have wanted stuffed in her bottle.
The insects were scattered across the wall Nabbosa was not tall or acrobatic enough to scale, and as she and her competitors walked away from the inquisitor, perhaps cursing their fortune, it was now up to the roaming birds to reign supreme. Those who catch nsenene range from innocent children like Nabbosa (who seize them one at a time from beneath dense vegetation) to ruthless businessmen (who invest heavily in harvesting material) and to marabou storks (which ambush the insects in space).
It is a process that renders itself to survival, to recklessness, and, increasingly, to shrewd trade.

Lights on
Not far from the place where Nabbosa was found catching nsenene, across a street that policemen regularly patrol for signs of illegality, one man had recently erected what a looked like an unfinished fence.

The contraption was in fact a trap to catch nsenene --- a barricade made of iron sheets raised high to reach a gleaming bulb. Nsenene are drawn to light, finding refuge along or near bright spots, and businessmen exploit this weakness to catch them in amazingly large numbers. Attracted to the light, which blinds them, the dazed insects inevitably slide down the iron sheets and into open barrels.
If their journey ends in those containers, their story does not. Nearly everywhere in Kampala’s suburbs, from Kitintale to Kamwokya, a keen eye will notice that sometime in November, as torrential rains pound the city, many roadside stalls are crowded with women circling saucepans brimming with nsenene. Their job is to pluck the wings and legs off these crickets, a task not as exciting as catching them, and then dropping them in empty saucepans, ready to be boiled and roasted until they turn a seductive golden brown.
Until the tasters find them crunchy (and salty) enough, the heat may not be turned off. And Johnson Tumuhereze’s job as a vendor may not start.

Never give up
“I walk wherever I can because my job is to sell,” he said one afternoon as he walked along a dusty street, his right hand carrying a can of ready-to-eat nsenene above his shoulder.

“This is my business.” At Shs200, which could be costly for many people, a spoonful is not enough to satiate a craving, and Mr Tumuhereze does not except to make more than Shs5,000 each day. In any case, he is one of so many young men hawking nsenene.

INCOME EARNER: Whenever the months of April and November set in, the trade in nsenene booms and business people cash in big.

In many ways, the nsenene story is as modern as it is archaic, adopting raw capitalism but retaining the crucial role of women in bringing the delicacy into living rooms.

Kiganda oral tradition has it that, in days past, women were sent to shrubs to harvest nsenene but were not allowed to eat them.
As the story goes, the privilege belonged to their selfish husbands.
“I think that the men were just being greedy,” says Charles Peter Mayiga, Buganda Kingdom’s information minister, “considering how delicious nsenene are.”

But the more serious reason, Mr Mayiga said, had to do with “the purity that was attached to the woman” in Buganda. If the women were strong enough to resist eating delicious insects on the sly, it was proof of their fidelity, he said, noting that attitudes have evolved over the years.
“My wife is a modern woman,” Mr Mayiga said, making the point that they both eat nsenene at home.

Put differently, nsenene have become an equaliser. And one place makes it clear: Nearly every morning when it is nsenene season, trucks and motorcycles descend upon Nakasero Market, in Kampala, to deliver huge consignments of freshly-trapped insects ferried from hundreds of miles away.

The jostling for space and sneering among rival salesmen --- young and old, women and men --- sometimes gives way to cold-blooded fights.

They do it for the love of nsenene, so that they milk the new season for all its worth, and so that Madinah Naggayi may take the season for granted.
“I’ve eaten a lot [of nsenene] this season,” the shopkeeper said recently. “I can’t count them, of course. And we don’t care about the trouble they go through to catch them. For us, we just wait.”

What is Nsenene?
Nsenene is the Luganda name for a long-horned grasshopper that is a central Ugandan delicacy as well as an important source of income.

The insect is also eaten in neighbouring areas of Kenya and Tanzania. Traditionally in Uganda, nsenene were collected by children and women. They were given to the women’s husbands in return for a new gomasi (a traditional dress for women). Although the women were made to do the treacherous work of collecting nsenene, they were never allowed to eat them.

It was believed that women who consume nsenene would bear children with deformed heads like those of a conocephaline bush cricket.

Nowadays, nsenene are consumed by most women in the areas where this insect is traditionally eaten.

November is the main nsenene season, the other being April, when a swarm of the delicious locusts converges on the areas around Lake Victoria from the greater North.

The commercial nsenene production includes wholesale trade in sacks, transported over long distances to urban areas in order to get the best price. In most market places, vendors cash in big on the nsenene.
Source: wikipedia

© Copyright 2009 by Monitor Online

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Team Life

`Our life is full of brokenness - broken relationships, broken promises, broken expectations. How can we live with that brokenness without becoming bitter and resentful except by returning again and again to God's faithful presence in our lives.` A quote from Henri Nouwen.

When I first started to think about joining Medair, one of the great attractions was the sense of community and belonging that a role with the organisation offered. Living alongside other Christians, from all over the world, all working together to serve the most vulnerable. To me, it sounded like an amazing opportunity to part of a unique community, living with like minded people.

Its therefore pretty ironic that this community has started to become one of the greatest challenges about being here in the DR Congo. Maybe i was naive, I would prefer to think that i was hopeful and optimistic. I have been surprised by some of the dysfunctionality that exists in our team here, and im talking specifically about the international team.

Of course, with our colleagues from the Congo, there are huge cultural differences which sometimes make it difficult to work together. I did not expect so many problems between a group of people who come mostly from Europe and North America.

Life in the field is intense, there is no doubt about that. People grow tired and weary, especially those who have been here for a longer period. Stress levels can be high emergencies can develop pretty quickly. We definately find ourselves under spiritual attack , we are working on the front line after all, soldiers for God. In Bunia, where I have been based for the last 3 weeks, there is a very heavy spiritual feeling. No doubt the results of many years of war and conflict and the terrible things that have been done here. There are all sorts of reasons that contribute to this level of dysfunctionality we are experiencing at the moment. Not that i think any of these are good excuses.

Christ says in Hebrews that we are a Royal Priesthood, that we stand out. Im not sure that we have been doing that as a team here recently. By my own admission I have pretty high expectations of myself and the people around me. Perhaps there is a lesson for me in all of this, to display the same grace God has extened to me, to show that grace and love to the people around me, I can be pretty impatient at the best of times .

Maybe its a lesson that we are all human, we all have weakness and people do from time to time disappoint us. Through the ups and downs Im being stretched and challenged thats for sure, and that can only be a good thing....

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Some more news...

On Friday we moved Solomon into the new Thread of Life sew and craft shop!!!!!!!! It was such sweet relief when we drove away from that wretched building with the last of our things, breathing huge thanks to God for the landlord not showing up and the fact that we NEVER have to go to that place again! It felt a bit miraculous & indeed it is.

Morgan wrote these updates, so I thought I would mooch from him and share (sorry no pics!):

First of all is the story of Jordan and Jackson. Jordan and Jackson are brothers and they are two babies that have lived at the kids' house for a little over a year now. They were completely abandoned and we didn't have any idea who their parents were. But over the summer, there was a woman who became interested in adopting them. So Wilfred, the director of the kids' home, started asking around again seeing if he could figure anything out. By some coincidence, he happened to come across their uncle. The uncle said that he had no idea what happened to the mother but thought that the father was working in some distant village somewhere. But then, about a week later, the father got in touch with Wilfred through the uncle. As it turns out, he had gone to Sudan to try to find some work. When he went North, he lost his phone with all his contacts in it and couldn't call his wife. There ended up not being any work in Sudan and he couldn't scrape enough money to get back home. So do to some rather unfortunate circumstances, he ended up being stuck in SUdan for almost two years. When he finally came back, he immediately started asking friends and relatives where his family was. That's how the uncle got him in contact with Wilfred and he found Jordan and Jackson, but he was still trying to find what happened to his wife.
A week or so after the father got in touch with Wilfred, he found his wife. It turns out she had gotten sick and was in the hospital for a little bit and had left Jordan and Jackson with a family friend that was living near them. The friend though, for some reason or another, took Jordan and Jackson and gave them to the police saying that they were abandoned and thats how they came to Wilfred. The mother new that they were with Wilfred and were staying in the kids' home all along, but she was scared that if she went and tried to get them back then she would get into trouble for abandoning them in the first place and so she just left them there.
But now Jordan and Jackson are both living with their parents again. Mercy Ministries and CLD are still keeping tabs on them and helping the father and mother support them, but it's really great that they are bak home with their parents now.
It's so cool to see stuff like this, especially when we can look back and see how this might not have happened if our friend hadn't been interested in adopting them this summer. If they hadn't started looking into the family again, they might not have found the uncle, and, in turn, the father. It's so cool to see how God knows the things that need to be done and can use us to make those things happen.
Love this story - miss the boys, but so thankful they are with their family!!!

Saturday, November 07, 2009

Prison Break

In my role as acting country director for the Medair programme, I am based in Bunia, the location of our main support base in the Congo. Bunia has been badly affected by ethnic conflict in recent years. Even today, there is a huge MONUC (United Nations) presence in town. The war that raged has all but ended, but there is still banditry and general lawlessness in town. I can hear gunshots most nights, especially fom the local Prison.

The conditions of the prisons in the Congo is quite frankly dreadful and to be quite honest, a complete affront to human dignity. Conditions are so bad that prisoners will reguarly risk their lives trying to escape, the exchange of gunfire that follows can be heard almost every night at the Medair compund.

The statement below comes from a recent UN report on social justice in the DR Congo. For Goma, read Bunia. The condition of the prison here is rumored to be equally as apalling.

`My interlocutors, including the Minister of Justice, who is responsible for the penitentiary system, unanimously agreed that prison conditions are atrocious. I visited the Central Prison of Goma and spoke with detainees there. In a prison built to hold 150, over 800 prisoners live in squalor. They receive one inadequate meal per day from the prison authorities, and rely essentially on food brought by their families. Because internal control of the prison is entirely left to the inmates, the stronger prisoners take the lion’s share of the provided food. The weaker prisoners and those without family nearby gradually become emaciated, and especially vulnerable to disease. Not surprisingly, many die in prison.

The number of prisons and prisoners in the Congo is unknown. Totally inadequate records of prisoners are kept and many are left rotting in prison even after their sentence has been served. The great majority of prisoners have never been tried before a judge. In essence, the prison system seems to be a depository for the enemies of the state and for those too poor to buy their way out of the justice system. The abominable conditions, together with corruption and minimal state control, mean that escapes are common, thus adding further to impunity`

How can anybody be expected to live in such a way. Some of these prisoners have not even been proved guilty, they are awaiting trial. The prsion sytem is just one of numerous problems this country has to overcome as they try to rebuild after years of conflict. But nobody should have their dignity stripped away like this?

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Great news for Thread of Life sew shop

On Monday we had a small victory for Good - Solomon was able to secure a new location for the Thread of Life sew shop! We'll be moving out in the next week or so to a new building with access to power, water, that is secure & provides us with a safe place to be for the next few months as we seek a permanent place to purchase!!! I'll post pics once we move in!

Goodbye Mr. Evil Landlord!!!!!!!

Sunday, November 01, 2009

Loving Hard...

Loving regardless

Never giving up

Never losing faith

Always hopeful

Enduring through every circumstance

Loving people that are too hard to love…the unloveable

A conscious choice

Mourning with those who mourn

Rejoicing with those who rejoice

Being with, not doing – enjoying presence, not accomplishment or success

‘We were meant to be Lovers, bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we are called home.’

How it looks for me to ‘love hard’ daily…

Serving our volunteers in patience

Awaiting the day in expectation of what may come, not of what I have planned

Greeting my Ugandan friends and co-workers with a smile and a genuine desire to know how they are and how their family is

Patience as I travel on public transport – in heat, humidity, traffic, delays, stares, lack of personal space…

Getting one thing accomplished when ten were on the list to be done

Hugging and playing with children who have seen and experienced more suffering in their 8 years than I’ll ever see in my lifetime

Trying to find a tension of loving these children with all of me, yet not so much that they feel abandoned yet again when I leave

Choosing to not give money or resources sometimes because it will aid dependency rather than promote sustainability

Choosing to give some shillings to the beggar on the street

Praying for a friend that is hiding because she feels ashamed of something she’s done – not turning away from her, writing her off, because she made a bad choice

Holding the tension of protecting myself and caring for the strangers I meet along my way

Remembering that everyone has a deeper story than I know, not judging by appearance or first, second, or even hundredth impression

Clinging to glimpses of joy instead of dark clouds of despair

Hoping

Loving Good

Seeking Peace

Comforting those who are broken

Being open to their comfort expressed to me as well


Wish I could say this is how I look every day – but its most definitely not! Only what I aspire & hope to…aim high, right? Love Hard.

TNL visit to Uganda

the guys teaching yoga to the kids!




Jared & Julie working hard on the Farm!!


the girls planting our live fence!!


Tiffney & I


baby Julio, our new goat!


sunset over the Nile River


Jared & I on the Nile


impending storm...


in Ben's village of Kaliro - we spent 3 days here with his family & community