Where Eagles Soar

White people. We're a funny and strange tribe. It sounds bizarre to many people when you say "tribe" and refer to caucasian white people. We forgot our past and that it was tribal! When you are the ethnic majority in the society you grow up in you tend to develop the view that you are normal, and others (visible minorities) are "strange" or "different" or outside the norm. It's called ethnocentrism. It's more than likely part of the human condition regardless of what race or ethnicity someone is. Everyone has it. It is to assume that one's own customs and ethnicity are the "centre" of reality and the norms against which all others are measured.

The history of caucasian white people is very much tribal! A simple and quick stroll through the inerrant wisdom of Wikipedia (or a more detailed analysis of respected historians) will reveal that caucasians are very much the tribal Barbarians that wreaked significant havoc throughout Western Europe during antiquity. This was, of course, through the lens and the view of the civilized ruling Greek and Roman majority. But it is true. White Northern Germanic tribes in one form or another came swooping through much of Europe with strange customs and a thirst for conflict and conquest. Completely tribal and, incidentally, the reason for the coining of the word "barbarian".

Today for many reasons we are uncomfortable talking about ethnicity and race. The reasons for this are good, but sometimes the outcomes are not so good. Sometimes it's just the right thing to pay attention to the proverbial "elephant in the living room". We're all from one tribe or another and we all have customs that are strange to others. And we DO look different. The history of racial slurs, racism, slavery and oppression now in the light of political correctness and a properly formed conscience has taken our comfort level away in talking about these things. And certainly laughing about some of the cultural differences that are humorous makes us uncomfortable. But if we're really honest, sometimes these things are funny and celebrating our cultural differences is not always a bad thing. What I have noticed about those of us who are of white European descent is that we tend to mistakenly assume ourselves to be kind of neutral when it comes to interaction with and around other ethnicities. We act a little antiseptic about it. Almost as if there is an assumption that other ethnicities and groups who are still closer to their tribal backgrounds are for us like study experiments in school. We try and be very appropriate about it, but we tend to believe that matters of ethnicity, tribalism, and ancient traditional customs belong to "other" groups but not to us, and they are matters of study and observation. We forget how strange and tribal we actually are.

Having said that, back to our team in Africa! A team of primarily "white" Canadians in Uganda as you can imagine is going to stand out a little and put race and ethnicity right in the forefront of our awareness. And for the "white people" of the team the African experience turns the tables around. And then comes the fun part; two of our team members who I want to highlight are Gilbert and Velma Eagle Bear. Two First Nations Canadian leaders from the Blackfoot nation and Blood tribe. Add us, the other 11 Caucasians, and then drop the team into rural East Africa to work with African villagers of the Samia tribe (some of whom may not have seen caucasians before), and it will certainly be an eye opening experience. And one loaded with the possibility of boo-boos made and for funny as well as touching experiences happening.

Being a visible minority is a unique experience for those of us who are caucasian. We stood out like sore thumbs. We're funny and strange when we try and make no big deal out of it. The word used commonly for us in East Africa is a Swahili word used for white people, "Mzungu". You hear it everywhere. The children call it out everytime we go near them. It made us wonder what was going through their minds when they see us. Do we look strange? Do they think we are dangerous? Do we seem primitive? Do our mannerisms offend or frighten them? What are their perceptions (being the majority) of us as the minority? One of the obvious things (and difficult things) is that Africans with some knowledge of "whites" have grown accustomed to the mzungu as one having money, and lots of it. Stories about our countries in the west have built the impression that we have money trees in our yards and loads of it to spare, as well as the need to give away without thought or reason. It does not take that long for a white person to begin to feel what it might be like for a visible minority back home to feel stereotyped and one dimensional. This is why international development work like this (we believe) must be relational and long term. It is so we know and love each other as family and not as images of stereotypical "white people" or "black people" or "native people". At some point in a relationship like this (familial) we need to be ready for the heart to heart talking and the sharing of customs, differences as well as what happens to us when the other party says or does certain things that bother us. And that needs to go both ways if it a relationship of equals. Mzungu's who go to Uganda for the first time usually buy the T-shirt that says "Mzungu". By the end of their trip they want to buy the one that says "my name is not Mzungu".

One day we went to Luzira Prison in Kampala. Our bus stopped at the checkpoint gate of the Prison hill to register with the officers. Douglas had arranged our permission to enter the prison with the authorities previously, and so our entry was not difficult. At the checkpoint he got out of the bus with the permission letter and explained to the guard who we were and how many. We overheard him say that there were 13 "whites" with him and the other Ugandans. We laughed and although it did not offend us, it certainly makes one think about how terms are used. I wondered "should that offend me?" "...am I not offended because it may just be a language difference?" "...am I not offended because I am used to being in the majority and above offense?" "...would I say 13 'blacks' if the shoe was on the other foot back home?" No, back home we are not even supposed to say the ethnicity of even the perpetrator of a crime if it is not essential to catching them. Instead we say something like, "some rude guy got in my face!" we don't say "some black guy shoved me at the Dave Matthews concert!" If a crowd of young urban men gathered at a convenience store makes us think again about stopping, we simply say something like "ya, thought twice about stopping but didn't ...too many boys in baggy pants standing around".

Inside the door of Luzira Prison is the Admit area where the administration is and where we wait to be searched for entry. On the wall was pinned a poster that warned about the dangers of drinking alcohol which is frowned upon in Uganda more than here at home. I don't remember the words but I'll never forget the picture. It showed 2 or 3 respectable and well dressed Africans walking through a park. On the park bench sprawled out with his head hanging over the edge was a passed out drunk. And the drunk was a white guy! Rhonda and I laughed like mad and wondered what their perception of white people is.

On top of these interesting things is the fun part of introducing Gilbert and Velma! How do I do that?! All the history and nuance of the changing 'once appropriate but no longer' terms by which we identify Canadian First Nations people is not possible across the language divide even in English -nevermind through a translator in the Prison or the villages! What would I call them in my introduction? We know the terms back home. Today it is "First Nations" people. It used to be "Aboriginal", preceeding that it was "Native", and many years before that the term was "Indian", going back to the history of Christopher Columbus believing he had reached India when he met the First Nations people of this continent. I felt a little stumped wondering how to introduce them.

In the end it didn't really matter. I knew that the Ugandans would have a fascination with the Blackfoot tribe, and they quickly understood who I meant when they met them. I was more interested in the way the Africans held such a fascination by them. The experience of it was like introducing two ancient friends. Africans and First nations people both have retained tribal customs unique to them. The highlight for me personally was to see Gilbert in action in the Condemned section with 150 men on death row. After our introductions and their comments and their singing, Gilbert was introduced and came and spoke a long prayer and blessing over them in Blackfoot! He told the men that they would not understand and to simply join in with him and pray in their own languages. They did. Their voices rose with his and then he concluded. It was an amazing experience.

On another occasion, we were discussing African customs and we learned about how in African traditional culture a mother-in-law does not sit in the same room as her son-in-law. In fact, it is not appropriate for them to even see each other. To our amazement Gilbert and Velma explained that for Native tribes it was exactly the same thing. It makes one wonder a lot about history and who knew who and when they knew each other or shared these things. There is more evidence for our common human ancestry and history than we know!

One of the Community leaders in our village and in Busia got very excited when I told him that he would meet Gilbert and Velma. He said to me, "is he a real red Indian?" I said, "...ummmmm... ya!" "Years ago that was the name used for them". He explained that in high school he did an exchange near Buffalo and had some classmates who lived on a reservation. He held a fondness and fascination for the culture. When he and some associates stopped by to visit us, they chatted with Gilbert and Velma for hours and had a great time.

Many of us at the Jail here at home have known Gilbert for a long time. I have known him for ten years and worked with him for most of them. He is by all accounts a very special man. I had only met Velma once or twice but getting to know her on the trip was a treat for me and for all of us. She's a tower of quiet strength and it makes sense because Gilbert is a story teller! He has lived a remarkable life and I as well as others never want to take for granted who he is and what he has to offer. He has worked in Corrections on and off for 20 years and is now the elder for the Jail.

I did some digging and found out that Gilbert is 65! You would never believe it! This also means that he remembers all of the painful parts of the past to for those who are Native. He remembers what it was like to need permission from the "Indian Agent" to go off the reservation. He also knows the hard effects of the residential school disaster and the resulting broken spirits in many native people. Velma retired after 38 years as a social worker on the Blood Reserve, and therefore dealt with everything imaginable and difficult. In Africa, the both of them worked just as hard as any of the rest of us and as hard as the young "glowing ones" on the team laying brick under the hot sun. Gilbert has all the benefits of age without ageing! Whether it was zipping through London, Amsterdam, or laying bricks, he is every bit the young man he believes himself to be. And good luck trying to stop Velma from laughing once she really starts... simply not possible! When Tim Kreft discovered either a chicken or goat skull as part of his supper one night and started acting out his tender little puppet show with it, Rhonda and Velma were in tears laughing like naughty kids in class while the rest of us were trying to be serious in our discussions.

Gilbert and Velma have a depth that comes from being what life has made them to be as elders and people of influence on the reserve and in many other circles where they give leadership and wisdom. He has worked for Children's services, Health Canada, served years in politics on the Blood Tribe council, head of the Blood Tribe Police Commission, and as an elder and member of the traditional Horn Society. They have 5 grown children who are successful, grandchildren and even 1 great grandchild! They love to travel and like Hawaii as well as Albuquerque for the Gathering of the Nations annual Pow-Wow.

Gilbert brought several Eagle feathers with him on the trip meant to be given to certain African leaders we would meet. It was a thing of honor for him. The Eagle is a very meaningful and significant symbol to the Blackfoot people and to give one away is very meaningful. It is a thing of special honor to receive one. I thought about the significance of eagles and the significance of what Gilbert and Velma brought to the trip, the team, and to our friends in Uganda. There is a verse in the Jewish scriptures about those who trust in the Creator finding strength and soaring high on wings like eagles. It says that even young men will fall in exhaustion. Others will soar like eagles. To me and to our team members as well as many who know the Eagle Bear's, this is true of them. Not only did they work as hard as the "young men and women" who grew tired, but they brought a spirit that is so central to who they are. They soar. They are always positive. They see life from high above and can then help those who have hit their lowest low. They were a late addition to the team and decided to go only 3 or 4 weeks before we went. Gilbert lost his mom not too long before, and last year his brother Alfonse. Grief and loss has visited the Eagle Bear family over the years as it has so many First Nations families. These losses in life have carved out in Gilbert not a huge hole of emptiness and bitterness, but a big place where he lets people come in and find shade as well as comfort. He has turned his grief into the reasons why he helps people and the wisdom to do it. It made sense for him to celebrate his love for his mom by coming and helping the Africans and sharing himself with them. It was good for him. And it was good for us.

Today (Thursday June 24) he will lead the Project Africa team in a sweat lodge. We are excited. Gilbert loves to share Blackfoot culture with others. What he isn't always aware of in his modesty is how much wisdom he shares by being who he is and by soaring where he soars.

The Shape of a Soul?

We are blind. I hate that about us. I really hate it. And we are getting more blind by the year. Our culture that is. North America. We are blind to the full measure of the width, the depth, the mystery, the awesome magnitude, and the creative drive for life that exists inside every other human being. That is we don't or can't really take in the fullnes of what another human being truly is, and is about, and has to offer. This is because we are a society of masters at type-casting. Cookie-cutting. Boxing. Minimizing. Stereotyping. Reducing. We do this to each other in Canada because we are part of the North American mental disease called forsaking our humanity. 'more for less', 'big box', 'bottom line is the only line', 'what can I get out of you?'. We are becoming more and more inhuman, and as a result, inhumane.

This is how it sounds at the beginning... "that guy is an electrician, or a cop, or a manager, or an idiot, or a bad driver, or a misfit, or a benchwarmer, an inmate, or an alcoholic." Or, "she is a liar, that lady is a banker, or a teacher, a crazy, a hottie, gay, she's just emotional..." and on and on it goes. We refer to people as simply one dimensional. They are only what they do for a living, or what they are the moment we happen to see them and depending on whether the moment is favorable or not towards them, that is how we assign to them what they are and that's it. Nothing more.

It's no surprise that our institutions have us all in their databases as just a number. That's all we are, a means to their end and viewed as useful or not. The banks categorize us in one of only two groups; good for their bottom line or not. The prison system is the same. Could be for murder or it could be for driving without insurance, doesn't matter. Both have a number and are viewed by us as just the same -lowgrade. Inmates do it too. A uniform means copper and all cops are the enemy. One dimensional and that's all. Blockbuster Video has each of us as well tracked as Revenue Canada! Yesterday I learned that I am in the "system" at Spic and Span dry Cleaners! Wow! All I want is the horse shit cleaned off my jacket... I don't need to be known as a name and profile number on the receipt!!! If you want to "know me" why not ask about what things add to my happiness and what things might cause depression in men since sometimes I might come in and "seem a little more off than my last visit"!

Our whole society has perfected the art of stamping everyone else out of one sort of cookie cutter or another. It can only result in a dehumanizing outcome, and I would argue that it has. Uganda demonstrated that for us on this trip. Our Luzira prison visit showed that even though it's a third world country, the relationship between human beings (which is most revealing about us when it is the relationship between keeper and kept) is a lot more human and a lot less one dimensional. Guards and inmates are brothers and sisters there and the guards are trained to take into account each prisoners situation and personality. Wow! There's a concept. Personality. In other words a human being is more than the coat or hat they happen to be wearing and they are more than the one thing they did to result in their imprisonment, and they are more than the classification we have given them. They are more than just a utility, and more than a means to an end.

The cost of our psychological malnourishment induced blindness is that we cannot see the true shape and measure of what another human being has to offer. Organizations that employ us then try and manipulate us into their own one dimemsional pigeon hole by flattening us into just the right shape so that we are "useful". If we do not become that cardboard cutout that has been assigned to us, we are frozen out and discarded. This is obvious in any organization and certainly true in Law Enforcement. Few other organizations are so hard pressed to flatten people's personality as is law enforcement's need to drive the creativity, shape, and personality out of someone before they can fit them into that uniform. Once in, the pressure to remain flat, and dull, and obedient, and shapeless is applied and remains as a constant. There is only one other type of organization that does this more aggresively, inhumanely, and brutally than Law Enforcement, and that is churches and religious organizations. But that's a story for another day, and it is truer than the next breath of air you take in!

All of these realities are a result of what our society has given birth to -shapelessness and formlessness. Imagine North America as a culture of 330 million cardboard cutouts all travelling at warp speed, in different directions, passing each other inconveiently, frustratingly late for the next task or meeting designed to ensure that everybody else remains exactly that way so that we can continue to make money and find ways to speed the whole thing up. And for God sake, don't stop or slow down too much or somebody might notice that we are all made out of cardboard and begin to question if there is more to life, more personality, more flair, more meaning and substance. They might want out of the "Matrix" as it were. And that might throw a wrench into our wonderfully well oiled, profitable, consumer driven, and dehumanizing society.

Well, what does all this have to do with Project Africa 2010 and our trip to build the clinic? Everything. Because 13 cardboard cutouts from Canada were, by virtue of being dropped into a culture that for all of it's brutal history and its current poverty, forced us to slow down enough to make relationships with people in our village and with each other. In rural Africa, time is everywhere. there's nothing else to do. Life is only about scraping together tonights meal and so life is spent in the yard or under the tree doing that together. And without reliance on your neighbors you won't survive. For them survival hinges on relationships and the time it takes to nourish them. For us survival hinges on having fewer and more superficial relationships because they take too much damn time!

That experience gave us a chance to meet them in a deeper way. It also gave us a chance to meet each other in a deeper way. I have thought about that alot during our trip and since. I was fortunate to lead a good team to Uganda. But I had to resist the temptation to view each of them as the cardboard cutout they are back home. Our success relied on giving opportunities to open doors that would let their true nature and true personality shine and find its place in order to let Africa do to them what it has the power to do to a human being. Help them come alive. Help them see. Help them feel the connection with human beings who are totally different than we are and who want to connect with us as Africans do. At the end of the day, or maybe I should say the beginning of the day, we are all Africans. According to the scientistst that's the place of our origins. And so they still have what we have lost -humanity. So I tried to re-think even how I introduced the team members. Back home it was Jon the Cop, Scott the Guard, Michelle the Psychologist, Gilbert the Native Elder, and so on. Impressive list actually. That is when you paste them all together as cutouts on a page. But what about the individual personalities? What about the true human beings each of us are? What is the shape of each soul and the measure of it's magnitude and creativity and it's drive to create and feel life in all the mystery that life is? Thankfully, those answers are far too big for my mind to fully take in. But I want to try.

So I want to profile all the team members on this Blog as well as the Africans who have become family to us (or always were). Jon Blackwood and Jordan Clavelle were fun to watch during the trip. First the culture shock, and then how each began to take Africa in but then reflect it in what they gave back to Africa. The measure of those two souls can be glimpsed in the creativity that their photography reflects. More than Cop and Jail Guard, they had eyes to see something that could reflect the artistry of the human spirit. Watching the Africans meet Jon was fun as well. This huge white guy with all those tattoos might at first be frightening, until they felt his gentleness and his thoughfulness, as well as how much they meant to him. Not just a workhorse at the job site, Jon added so much to the life of the mixed team by his presence that it would be hard to imagine the experience without him. I think Jon is the type of guy who can see. he doesn't just see things, he sees into them. He fights the urge to simply forfeit his humanity and become just a Lawman. He sees someone in a way that most don't and is able to reflect it in his art which is photography.

Jordan is one of those guys where you get more than you pay for. He's quiet, and drinks in the experience very reflectively. Makes sense too since he is a writer as well as photographer and tech wizard. Whenever something edgy was said by a group member, which with jail staff was pretty much always, we could count on Jordan's one word reflection; "wow". Jordan seemed to always operate out of an inner knowing and a sense of wisdom that is larger than he should have given his young age. He flourished there, and Africa seemed to fit him. he was also a huge comfort to us in that he too is a workhorse, and could easily come up with solutions about how to present our project in some kind of tech savy way. Always optimistic, I think he got frustrated only once and that was crowd control which demonstrated his sense of things and the spine he has when it is needed. Certainly he is more than 'jail guard' and gladly he is not cardboard!

Anyway, I'll let the images do the rest of the speaking. Jons' are on the left side throughout this blog entry and Jordans' are all on the right side. Hopefully you get a glimpse of what the Africans got and of what we as a team got as far as the shape of the souls of these two team members. Be ready to throw away your cardboard. In the next entry I will profile other team members and what happened to them in Africa.

Check out Jordan's blog through his
Facebook page, and Jonathan's pics
are accessible at his website listed at the top of my Blog.