How Cultures Colide: the Story of a Stroller

One of the roles of a volunteer here at Baby Watoto is helping where an extra hand is needed so as to keep the nannies in their family groups as much as possible. Each nanny has four or five babies that are "her" children so long as they are in that unit. In order to keep attachment issues to a minimum, volunteers are not placed within a family; rather, we do a lot of "dirty work" so the nannies can spend every possible moment bonding with their babies. 

Every so often, a baby gets sick enough that they need to be isolated from the other children. When this happens, we volunteers are placed as primary caretaker for the child until they are healthy enough to return to their family.

I'm convinced I'm now qualified to become a nurse, thanks to Baby Watoto. I know how to tube-feed a baby, check their vitals, convert their temperature from Fahrenheit to Celsius, take a stool sample, and keep an hourly chart based on their condition.

Last week I was in isolation with a little boy who has a rash and loose stool- reason enough to keep him away from the other children, but he feels fine and doesn't understand why he can't play with them. To keep him from boredom, I decided it was time for an outing. I changed him, packed a diaper bag, sat him in the stroller, and it was time to go.

Oh, Gulu town. The main road is lined with shops, and the closest thing it has to sidewalks is the shops' porches, with gutters, rocks, and sewer pipes between. 

In other words, it's not set up for a stroller.

Now in Uganda, as a Mzungu, you stand out. As a Mzungu woman, you really stand out, and as a Mzungu woman with a Ugandan baby, all eyes are on you. 

Now put that baby in a stroller and attempt these Gulu "sidewalks"... 

I returned from our outing with a resolution: when in Africa, do as the Africans.

Ugandan women wear their babies tied on their backs. A blanket or two supports the baby's bottom while his legs straddle his momma's waist. The blanket then ties above the breast and across the waist to form a scary-looking but surprisingly secure sling for baby. 

The next day, I decided to brave this culture collision.

So with Baby tied securely to my back, I ventured back into town.

These African women are on to something. Even compared to an American sidewalk-stroller experience, this is SO MUCH EASIER!!

As we walked back home, we were stopped with a thousand comments:

"Well done!"
"Thank you for taking care of this baby!"
"You are an African woman!"

One lady stopped me and gestured to Baby. "Your baby is black, but you are BROWN!"

I'm sure she meant white. I know she meant white. But for the first time in my life I was called brown, and I will gladly let it go to my head. 

I'm brown. :)

And an African woman. :)

And I'll never use a stroller in Uganda again.

<3, Robin