The 2 Days of Christmas

The 2 Days of Christmas

There are by no means 12 Days of Christmas in Uganda…the imagination is even being stretched to say there are a total of 2 Days of Christmas in Uganda. We know this to be true based on the fact that the most evident sign of the recently celebrated holiday season being upon us in Fort Portal was the sight of a canopy hoisted on four poles in front of the Stanbic Bank ATM – put in place just this week to protect the long holiday line of withdrawers of cash from the blazing sun…this is the Stanbic Bank at the major roundabout in Fort Portal, neither of which, bank nor roundabout, had any hint of Christmas “decking of the halls with boughs of holly.” So while the US and other countries are pushing the limits of the season, every year sneaking the Christmas items onto the shelves earlier and earlier, expanding the days to spend, shop and prepare, we experienced the condensed version of Christmas, cramming the season into 2 brief days of holiday cheer.

In all fairness to the Ugandans, there were a few other signs of the holidays that popped up periodically and took us by surprise. Christmas week, the local market expanded up the hill towards town – tiny artificial Christmas trees, maybe 2 feet tall, and long garlands of brightly colored tinsel – all appeared draped on the grassy hillside a few days before the 25th. Gardens, the local restaurant hangout, spent time in the 22nd to hang red and green fabric from their balcony to greet holiday diners… Andrew, the local grocer, stuck a tree in a corner of his store. And even Stanbic, who displayed no visible exterior sign of Christmas, followed suit and boasted a Charlie Brown tree hidden away in a remote corner of the bank.

Waiting on the local butcher to slash away at bloody, fly infested meat at the Smart Butchery Shop in preparation for our meal deliveries, we saw one lone, rather dirty and shabby Santa hat passing by perched on top of a workman covered from head to toe in dirt and dust. And speaking of the butcher and meat, one of my personal favorites of the season…the clusters of villagers everywhere we went, huddled around the carcass of a cow freshly slaughtered for serving holiday diners. Ken delivered a Christmas CD for the house and a cassette for the car – filled with new versions of old favorites. They saved our Christmas spirit from extinction…that and good planning…

We knew “strategic planning” would be a key to success for surviving the holidays away from home. We turned opted to turn down generous invitations to join both American and Ugandan families in sharing Christmas meals and even gift opening, actually wanting to navigate these days with the spirit that the Lord would bring to us…not with the schedule we had committed to. We wanted to know the heart of Christmas from a new perspective, one driven by a desire to know the presence of Christ in all we did. We wanted to be pleasantly surprised or deeply disappointed according to his purposes, not just our own. We wanted to be swept up in the season for all the right reasons and find ourselves spent, challenged, blessed, and touched by our experiences. With much prayer, we charted the course for “the 2 Days of Christmas” and asked God to be with us, guiding and directing our steps, changing plans if necessary and giving us the grace to adjust. We wanted to know Christmas in Uganda, not just our American version of Christmas in Uganda. We cranked up our lone CD and stepped into our 2 Days of Christmas.

We were surprised…by so many generous people who would have gladly opened their homes and huts to us and shared the privacy of their Christmas experience with us – almost total strangers… We were surprised…by Malike, the Indian manager of the hardware store where Bob and Ken purchase materials which turn into the walls and floors of Christ Aid Academy – as he scurried across the street and back, bearing a gift wrapped in sparkling silver, hiding a bottle of French wine recently arrived from Europe via a friend. How could he possibly know we drink wine…and most especially enjoy French wine? How could he know we haven’t had a sip of French wine since we set foot on Ugandan soil? How could he know his gift would be such a treasure to Americans he has barely met?

We were surprised…by Eryaza’s gift of bright orange carrots and a bunch of bananas, brought 7 kilometers into town from Kicuna in a burlap sack which Gladys emptied and immediately returned. As the local Anglican minister and President of the Parents’ Association at Christ Aid Academy, Eryaza lights our fire – we have been in his hut and know he has little to spare since he feeds many mouths…Surprised by an “encoco” (chicken), recently beheaded, plucked, cleaned and roasted for our visit to Innocent’s home. Two weeks earlier we had promised Innocent and his family that we would share g-nuts and tea in their humble hut on Christmas Eve Day. So as we handed off gifts of beef, rice, sugar, oil, bread, sweets and a carton of coke for their festive Christmas dinner, along with all the spare parts Innocent needed to repair his exhausted bicycle, we were treated to not only the promised g-nuts and hot tea, but a surprise of grilled, home-grown chicken. If only Amooti had known that the “surprise bowl” she proudly placed on the table would bring instant fear to Bob, who has sworn off what he believes to be all diseased Ugandan animals, cooked or not…well, she would have saved the tasty morsels of poultry for someone who could more enthusiastically appreciate their exquisite taste.

We were touched…by the gifts placed into our hands after we delivered Christmas food to huts in Kicuna. Our first stop was Amos, my mother’s Ahadi Kid, who lives in a home with 11 cousins and one grandmother whose children are all dead from AIDS. From the moment the “mukaaka” saw us with our moveable feast until the moment we left her hut, her Mukama Asiimwe (praise God) and Mukama Akulinde (God’s blessings) over us did not stop as she clutched my hands in praise and thanksgiving – the gift of faith pouring into my strong body from a weary woman who relies on her Provider more than on her banana plantation. Beatrice’s home was a flurry of activity when we arrived…millet flour being ground by strong, young arms, grandbabies running half-naked in the yard, young women smiling and laughing at our arrival. As we left the Christmas meal on her small table, Beatrice disappeared, quickly to return with 6 fresh eggs in a plastic bag – a giant-sized gift from her family of a dozen or so in response to the smallest of gifts from two Americans who can give more. And on arrival home, we discovered a tattered bag with an original Adolf sculpture inside – a sweet remembrance from the talent who created “Touchdown Jesus” on Christ Aid Academy.

We were disappointed…by Christmas Eve dinner at Fort Motel, a local lodge built by an Irishman who has now sold to a Ugandan…who keeps a high standard of service and quality. We chose to go there out of sheer curiosity – I had eaten lunch previously with the expat wives and boasted of the beef. Whether he believed it or not, Bob was persuaded that this beef would be different than the meat at Smart Butchery Shop – so we ordered steak with the sauce of the evening and were anxious to give ourselves the gift of beef for Christmas. On arrival, all good expectations flew out the window as we were greeted with the news that the menu had changed under the direction of a visiting chef from South Africa, excited to share the newest and best of culinary delights, and many locals had been invited for a Christmas Eve tasting – surprise party for the Isbells! While our mouths were watering all day long for grilled steak, the chef was in her steamy kitchen, enthusiastically preparing Thai fish cakes and chicken satay with peanut sauce…we never let her see our disappointment.

But this abrupt change in plans also brought us another surprise – unexpected dinner company! As Peter escorted us to our choice of tables for the evening and we adjusted our palates to the change in menu, we spotted Edward in the crowd. In a sea of strange faces that we had suddenly been thrown together with to celebrate Christmas Eve, one lone friendly face stood out – the Chancellor of Mountains of the Moon University. We greeted him, then his wife Foebe, then more family home for the holidays from Norway and Kampala, and had a pleasant conversation. Suddenly, they were sitting at our table for four, the young folks off at a table for 30 with lively conversation, and the older quartet settled in for an evening of interesting conversation. How could they know that we were so blessed to have our attention diverted from the sadness of missing loved ones at home to lively conversation peppered with politics, travel, religion, tourism, economy, and of course, the holidays? Bob and I were entranced as Edward and Foebe held court at our table - a continuous stream of what we could only call the Fort Portal “yuppie crowd” filing past to pay homage to the elder statesman and his wife, each introduction only a brief interruption in our delightful evening. We continue to be puzzled as to why they left their family and guests to spend the evening with us – perhaps we were their escape from the high energy of youth. The night flew by in a blaze of conversation and introductions… Day 1 under our belts, touched, surprised, and thankfully exhausted.

We were challenged – as we woke to a Christmas Day in a foreign country, filled with foreign activity! Oddly enough, we were comforted to know that at the same moment we were eating Weetabix cereal with peanut butter (our cook was off for the day), sipping on instant coffee and enjoying our Christmas poinsettia tree, no one in the states was doing a thing – everyone was sound asleep, only dreaming about jumping out of bed for Christmas morning. So while we tearfully prayed for our family and friends and crunched away on our less than holiday-worthy breakfast, you were all asleep – and we congratulated ourselves that we weren’t really “missing” anything at the moment since you weren’t really “doing” anything at the moment.

Obviously we were disappointed…in our breakfast! Good grief, anyone would have been disappointed! When you are supposed to be indulging in all sorts of wonderful treats you may eat only once a year, it was a little sad to be munching a piece of Weetabix cardboard, even though it was topped with peanut butter. We were disappointed that we had not sung “Silent Night” as Christmas Eve candles flickered in our hands, that we would not be roasting a turkey or glazing a ham, that we would not be hugging and laughing with family. We were disappointed that there was no noise in our house…no patter of feet, no squeals of delight over opening presents, no hugs and pictures and more hugs and more pictures…no activity. Silence…

We were blessed… however…because for the first time in our lives, we had time on Christmas morning to ponder and reflect instead of shift into high-stress reflex mode to manage the explosion of morning activity. No distractions tempted us to break away from discussing “How Great is Our God”, a video we had watched Christmas Eve at church. We stood in awe of God who spoke and breathed all creation into existence, then planted himself right smack dab in the middle of the mess of humanity. We sat, we prayed, we gave thanks…for the sheer wonder of it all.

We were not disappointed…that Notre Dame won their bowl game! Especially since Linda had picked them to win in her bowl selections – unlike Bob who turned traitor and went with Hawaii.

We were blessed… to be in the right place…Christmas Day services in the village church in Kicuna. Packed to overflowing, little girls prancing in and out in taffeta and crinoline party dresses, little boys with lace-up shoes and ties, casting off those same shoes when they could stand them no more, beautiful young mothers with jeweled shawls and colorful dresses, grandmothers with heads bound in strips of local fabric of a 100 colors, elders in celebrative robes. Having been in a shepherd’s cave in Israel which could have been the birthplace of Christ, Bob and I knew we would never come closer to experiencing the surroundings of his birth than here in this church – cows mooing, chickens squawking, babies crying, the odor of cow dung and human sweat difficult to inhale. There were no Christmas carols, no beautiful accompaniment from fine-tuned instruments, no Christmas tree… no magnificence of any kind. Only a simple grandeur of peasant worshipers, gathered on frail wooden benches under wooden beams decorated with celebrative vines and flowers, giving a moment of their difficult lives filled with toil, fatigue and early death to honor their King. We arrived late to avoid causing the normal commotion which mzungus bring along with them…we left early to avoid the same. We were the privileged outsiders, allowed in the door for just a moment to partake of a true sense of worship of our King.

We were blessed… to be in the right place…right here in Fort Portal, wrapped in the loving arms of the missionary families whose solitary goal in life is to heed the call and serve God. Magic chefs and mysterious kitchens produced a buffet which was a feast for the eyes and the stomachs longing for a touch of home – pies of every sort – blueberry, chocolate, lemon, apple - cinnamon rolls with gooey icing, quesadillas with guacamole, sweet and sour meatballs, pickles (a rarity here). And from our own kitchen which was a food factory on Christmas Eve Day, 7 layer dip Ugandan style…translates to 4 layer dip which is all the ingredients you can get your hands on, along with chapatti chips. No convenient cans in this kitchen – Gladys makes refried beans, salsa and chapatti chips from scratch, so 7 layer dip takes about…7 hours to concoct! Cook the beans, flavor the beans, mash the beans, spread the beans - cook the tomatoes, add the peppers, onion, garlic and hot sauce - make the chapatti dough, cook the chapatti, cut the chapatti into triangles, fry the triangles, salt the triangles…yep, 7 hours at the very least.

We were grateful…that the squeals of delight we missed in the states from our own grandchildren were everywhere around us when the 16 missionary children opened the gifts they exchange. 5000ugx is the limit…but $2.50 goes a long way here – shorts, t-shirts, dresses, games – the room was a beehive of kids running to show and share and thank. Four hours of English conversation you can easily understand, four hours of feeling totally at home because the culture around you isn’t strange, four hours of sharing emotions that make sense to the person you are talking to, four hours of eating what you miss from home, and four hours of mutual encouragement as an Aaron to a Moses – each one of us hoping to be able to prop up someone else’s ministry with our words of faith, understanding and hope.

We were thankful…to do Skype with the grandkids, talk to our sons and daughter-in-law, family in Pennsylvania and Colorado. Our family celebreated the birth of our Savior in Colorado, Texas, Louisiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Denmark and Uganda. We used the phone to text and call, the computer to chat and Skype, and celebrated Christmas in four different time zones. We talked presents and menus, mass and music, grandbabies and nieces. We were almost there… hearing familiar voices, seeing loved faces, laughing, sharing, oohing and ahing over treasured presents so proudly held up in front of the webcam by little hands.

We were overwhelmed at God’s provision…just for the two of us, tucked in a remote corner of Uganda, in the big continent of Africa, away from all we hold dear, over the “2 Days of Christmas”. Amazed that we didn’t collapse into a puddle of tears or drag dreary spirits through the days. Encouraged that this life so far away from the land of familiar presented its own moments of holiday cheer and charm. Grateful that hearts are one even when celebrations are separated. Captivated by the goodness of our God…that He delivers his gift of salvation in Jesus Christ to every corner of the world and can find any one of us, no matter where we are, to bring us great joy. Our “2 Days of Christmas” surprised us, disappointed us, delighted us, challenged us, and swept us up in the arms of our Great God. We are still here, hearts strangely warmed and spirits focused on the New Year.