What can we teach, and what can we learn?

Today I read an article in the Daily Monitor, a local Ugandan paper, on President Museveni’s decision to sell part of a protected old growth forest called Mabira. The land is to be sold to a sugarcane producer as a result of recent outrageously expensive inflation to the cost of sugar, among many other products. The price of sugar has risen to over 3,500 shillings/kilogram, while the price of gas, also inflating, is currently at 3,900 shillings/liter. As the Ugandan population train speeds on recklessly out of control, with a selfish old conductor and a nearly approaching end in the tracks, the need and consumption of materials will only get worse. Education, and the awareness that follows, are desperately needed here. But I find myself asking the question: “Are we really in a position to do the teaching needed?”
Before Barbara left she told us about an NGO that was interested in a solar stove that we originally received but do not use. We happily delivered the stove to the NGO and had a wonderful adventure in the process. However, the trip got me thinking about some of the problems that we are facing. When I say “we”, I am not just referring to BVI, its staff, or even Uganda, although all are included. I mean “we” in the greater sense of the word; the planet earth. The reluctance of the staff to adopt the alternative energy highlighted similar parallels with our own struggles with resource consumption and accepting new sustainability.
The idea of a new alternative energy, even an essentially free effective one, produced by this stove was surprisingly not well received by the cook house staff here at our school. It was tried for several weeks I am told, but in the end, they opted for the familiar traditional wood fire cook stove. The familiarity and comfortable convenience of the Old seemed to outweigh the initial challenges of the New. Sound familiar?
Wood, in general, and firewood, more specifically, is always in demand here and BVI pays a pretty penny, roughly 350,000 Shillings ($175), to have wood delivered from another area every month. A cost the cook house staff have the privilege to not be affected by. If the cost of wood increases, like everything else in Uganda seems to be doing, their salaries will likely be unaffected. If anything, they are likely to increase as the cost of living rises.
The forests have long been cleared so foreign species, such as Eucalyptus from Australia, have been imported, likely by colonial Britain, for timber and firewood. Eucalyptus, however, has its pros and cons. On the plus side, Eucalyptus grows very quickly, especially in Ugandan soil, enabling a quick profit return. It grows straight and tall and it is also relatively hard wood, which makes it excellent for construction, carpentry, and cook fires. These meet all the short term needs of the community, but if we examine our own history with such matters, will they meet the long term needs?
For example, the wide spread use of Eucalyptus has had severe and costly impacts to the community in a relatively short amount of time. Part of what enables its quick growth is its voracious use of water. Once Eucalyptus has been planted, the soil is all but useless for growing crops. Most of these crops are the staples of the community diet. Unlike many in the West, the majority of Ugandan’s live very closely with that of their crops and animals. They eat what they, or their neighbors, can grow or raise. Their diets are often quit simple when compared to the average American; a cultural difference both Therese and I have found challenging at times.
Their diets mainly consist of carbohydrates, with some vitamins, minerals, and proteins from the available, although somewhat less occurring, fruit, veggies, and meat. Popular and traditional food items such as beans, potatoes, poshu (essentially corn meal), assorted greens, and fruit are popular. Meat is occasionally in the diet for special occasions unless the family is wealthy or raises the animals. Rice is also fairly popular but is not native and is still largely imported.
Any change to the ecosystem that produces these important dietary staples is felt by the people. In an ecosystem such as this one, an invasive species like Eucalyptus is most unwelcome. It literally drains the soil of its moisture and nutrients, drastically reducing crop yields and harvests. In a place were the people still grow what they eat and eat what they grow, diminished harvests often directly result in empty, distended bellies.
In addition, Eucalyptus roots do not grow as deep as native African trees such as Mavula, Mango, or Jackfruit. This is a real problem in the mountains where slopes can exceed 30 degrees. Not unlike the science of avalanches, a lack of strong roots creates instability on the slopes. Throw in heavy seasonal rains and smooth bedrock below with a population explosion of nuclear proportions and you get a terrific recipe for disaster.
Disasters like the mudslide in March 2010 that killed over 300 people in a nearby village. As the population soars out of control, families looking for new land to settle are pushed higher and higher into the surrounding mountains, exposing them to more danger from slides. There have been recent incidents of mudslides in the last month due to the heavy seasonal rains. Luckily there have been no fatalities, though serious injuries have resulted.
This is another example of the human and environmental costs of succumbing to the allure of simple solutions to complex problems and quick profit returns. These are costs that we in the “developed” world are not exempt from. In truth, we have paid them dearly for centuries and continue to do so. One needs only to look at the long history of environmental degradation caused by our oil reliance to know that we have not completely learned our lesson either. All the while Africa looks to us, the “developed” world, as the model society for growth and development. And how can we blame them? Who can disagree that our lifestyle looks very attractive to the developing world? I feel confident that I would be hard pressed to find a man, woman or child in Bududa who wouldn’t leave their life in the village behind theme for the chance to live in America. That is a sad realization for me as I walk among the villagers wishing I lived a little more like them.
What is their individual Ecological Footprint? Miniscule in comparison to the average American; but on what scale? Bududan’s have cut most of their old trees down and use almost every piece of their land. They seem to have little in the way of an environmental ethic, commonly throwing there trash on the ground when finished with it and leave it there until it becomes part of the mud or the goats eat it. They look at us quizzically when we request to take the trash from them when they are done or pick it up when the turn and leave it. Almost as if to say “What value does that have to you that you would take it?”
Locally, Bududan’s have a high Ecological Footprint. However, globally, it must be one of the smallest in the world. Their homes are built with mud and thatch. They don’t use electricity and they often make their own clothes. They travel by foot, maybe a bicycle or a 100 cc motorbike. Many have never left the village. Practically all their food is local organic and they are often uninterested in eating food that isn’t, even when offered.
At the same time, I know this to be our own history as well. Look at how we live in the West. Look at the cost. Uganda isn’t doing everything right. They have problems. I would argue that we have just as many but on a global scale. If Uganda aims to fix its problems by following the enticing model left by the Developed World, they will only help to contribute to the ecological quagmire we find ourselves in presently. There must be a missing link somewhere. I know that I can learn much from Bududa, as I have already, and I know that I have much to teach them in return. I just think I have to be very intentional about what I teach.