TWENTYSOMETHING by Ishi Dinim

I smiled upon our landing, not only because it was a safe one, but also for the fact that I was processed in a visa line labelled others. I am an other driving through this foreign night to a hotel. There are men at the front door with black boots and shotguns, because other people might want what I have. I wish I could just give it to them willingly, but it doesn’t really work like that.
Desperation is palpable here in Kampala, Uganda. The faces that stare out from packed vans, as our separate vehicles come to rest for a moment, tell a common story of hardship that I have never really been able to perceive. We are close enough to reach out to one another and touch; still, we’re worlds apart. A woman shovels handfuls of dirt from a hole in the road into a plastic bag. On a pole above her is an advertisement for a fancy, new cell phone that she will never own.
Being here as a voyeur isn’t my only point of contact with the people of Africa. I am meeting many different people, trying to listen and cherish every moment. My understanding of the familiar tragedies and joys of these brothers and sisters is forming, but in order to appreciate it I have to really taste and feel their experiences.
It is so easy back home to get caught up in self-gratification that I forget about what it is we have been given and what it is to give. Today, while driving to shoot an interview, our driver Isaac talked with such pride about his three children; two of them came to him when his brother and sister-in-law passed away from AIDS.
The best thing that ever happened to me was being born into privilege, in Canada. It came to me so easily, so effortlessly. The only relative experience I have to compare with the disparity of wealth that exists in these countries is in Vancouver, going from the touristy- shopper Water Street to addiction-ravaged Hastings Street.
In Nairobi, Kenya, when travelling the same distance from the crammed Kibera slum to manicured polo fields and mansions, the contrast in affluence has been multiplied by an infinitely higher factor. Why is it so hard to give that to everyone else? And if that were even possible, would it be good for the planet?
People are not senseless. There is nothing that seems right about the discrepancy of people’s conditions in our world. Then why does that fissure remain the status quo? Throwing money at problems to deal with them is one way, but ultimately not empowering. A sense of accomplishment and ownership are key factors, I believe. We all want to improve, whatever world we come from.
Our common Mother Earth connects us all in no uncertain way. Life has richness here in Africa, just like everywhere else; it is up to us not to cheapen it. What are we going to do about it? Humanity as a whole could thrive if only we shared the load and the benefits of carrying it.

Must-see films:
Children of Men
Mountain Patrol

Links:
www.SalamaShield.org
www.peopleandplanet.net/doc.php?id=2217

Ishi graduated from Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design in 2001, with a BFA major in photography. He makes films, collects cacti and ponders many things. Currently, he is trying to figure out what to do with the rest his life. (contactishi@yahoo.ca)