Priviledge

We were able to just be today. Other than showing up for mealtime and heading into town to get some cash and some handicrafts, we were free to do as we pleased.

We got to watch the sunrise(or at least attempt, the mountain walls being as they are), discover the river, read, shop(we had to be driven to this) and just be. We got to explore and really appreciate the lodge and its beautiful surroundings.  This is the first time in probably a year or so, that we both could just be uninterupted, without the daily pressures of (mostly) work life. I was sore as shit(every step down hurt), but it was lovely.

It was easy, for today. But to our "western standards" most of the days have not been. And yet, this is 3 days of our life. We are lucky. So lucky. And privileged. Both in general and in our treatment/abilities/experiences while here.

It is a priviledge to turn on the faucet and have clean water come out. It is a priviledge to turn on a switch and have immediate power. It is a priviledge to have paved roads, shoes, cars and a public school system.

And while here, we had a nearly private plane take us from the Capitol to the park, an otherwise 8 hour bumpy drive. We had a land cruiser to get around on the non paved roads, while the locals are walking along the street or in "public trans" (about 40 people hanging on to a large flat bed truck).  People waved nearly everywhere we went. We had a housekeeper, a cook, a driver, someone to walk us to our room every night, and someone to organize our activities for the day. While we in theory(minus the room and board which was gifted) paid for this, we had the means to do so. We have options.

When speaking with a receptionist at our first hotel, we had asked if she traveled much and if she had done the gorilla trek. She laughed at our questions and responded with an "of course not".  Plane rides are too expensive for the average Ugandan.  And the Gorilla trek, was even a lot for us(to be fair, many places charge a different price to locals than they do to tourists, but this is not one of those places). 

The guy who gave us our permits for the gorilla trek and works for a company that allows him to be a guide, could not stay at a place like ours. When I asked where he stayed, he stated, "where I belong".  We too, would not be able to stay at this amazing lodge if it were not for a very generous gift. But we have options. Even if our options came from knowing someone who have more means than we do, we still have options.

The woman who was my porter, 120 lbs max, supported me like I was weightless. Her life makes her strong in a way that I have never, nor likely will I ever have to be. If her life is like the others we have seen, she might have to walk to school on bumpy, treacherous roads, perhaps without shoes. She may be wearing clothes a second or third time. The tip I gave her may be more than she otherwise could make in a week. And yet everyone we have met, has been so genuinely kind.

The hotel we stayed at in Entebbe, while lovely, was run completely by Ugandans but owned by a swedish couple. The hotel we are leaving today; the owner, a londoner speaks of sustainability of the land and his business acumen in the origin story of this place(built in 2011) but mentions little for the people. When we pay what seems like an exorbitant $345 per person fee which covers transport in a land cruiser(we probably logged in 7 or so hours in there since arrival), how much of that goes to the driver?  Especially when it is suggested to give a $5 tip?  Does this mean they are being well paid? Or is it simple supply and demand and $5 is that much in the local economy that the hotel pockets the bulk because the tourists don't know any better?

But then I'm torn. When a man comes up to us in town. Trying to beg us to see the children, ready to show us traditional dress and dancing. Do we go, to support the local community, or do we resist because it is the literal selling of their culture?  Similarly, when school children wave at us and cheer while walking barefoot on bumpy roads how should we respond? 

Or when a man in a tourist shop continually invades my space, standing uncomfortably close behind me, to try to convince me to buy his wares. Do I give into this culture norm, or buck it, because the westerner in me believes he should respect my space and my body as a woman?  While I still hold the priviledge in this situation, as an American and as a white person, I am also a woman and intersectionality comes into play.

This trip has been wonderful but also hard, uncomfortable and eye opening. I feel I must constantly check my priviledge, my awareness of the world and how I interact with it.