**Edit- for those of you that keep up with blog, I am sorry that I haven't (with the posting)! tyne**
HOPPING ACROSS THE ATLANTIC…
We’re packing to head home today…laughing at ourselves as we sort through spring and summer clothes to head home to the lingering days of winter in Cincinnati and Texas, hoping that at least Texas will be showing signs of spring so we can wear something without 3 layers for warmth. We’re returning to 8 and 9 hours earlier as the world spins, home to sons and grandchildren, mothers and siblings, home to lots of hugs on arrival, stories over tables filled with wonderful food we haven’t eaten for months, and so many forgotten conveniences that we hope we remember how to use them all.
As excited as we are to lay eyes on loved ones, we can’t help but wonder what our response will be to our departure as we step on a Brussels Airlines to leave Entebbe for our 3 weeks in the states. Just stepping on the plane with our bags full of gifts and travel items defines us as one of the fortunate, the wealthy of the world, those who are educated and mobile. We are headed to a land where choices are many, truth is the order of the day, and despite difficult economic times, hope reigns. We are leaving a land where choices are limited, sometimes to only one path in life, where truth is a precious commodity and frequently difficult to find, and where economic times are always difficult for 90% of the people.
We will be feasting on tender beef and plump chicken, boiled shrimp, crab dip, enchiladas and juicy hamburgers piled high with lettuce and tomatoes that don’t bring disease. We are leaving a land where most feed on tough beef and stringy chicken only once a year, eat a repetitive diet of matooke, millet, cassava and beans, and struggle during the dry season to be sure their family has enough to eat. We will actually turn on a tap in the sink and drink the water…here the locals boil all water, never knowing if it carries disease or not.
We will visit our grandson’s pre-school, a bustling place filled with every teaching aid necessary to nurture the mind, well-trained teachers who are paid fairly and have 6 to 12 students in a class who are bright-eyed and well-fed, eager to learn and prepared by educated parents to follow in their footsteps. We are leaving a land where most parents have not studied beyond Primary 4 or 5 and struggle to understand the value of educating their children, students sleep on the floor and frequently come without food for breakfast or lunch, and are taught by teachers who get paid so little to ride herd over 60 students at a time, we wonder why they love their jobs.
We are headed to the land of opportunity and leaving the land of 150 years behind. We will work with physicians to get more malaria medication and have blood tests done, leaving behind a country still plagued by HIV/AIDS, malnutrition, malaria and insect and water-born diseases which claim young lives on a regular basis. We will come back to Uganda healthy and prepared for the next round of mosquito bites…prepared to go into the huts of the Ahadi Kids and Grandmas where germs are bred and sanitation is lacking.
After 6 months in Fort Portal, we know what we are leaving and what we are headed to…but what are we taking with us of Africa? How will our eyes be refocused to the plenty that we see, or the clean streets we walk on, the energetic and ambitious people we encounter? How will our ears adjust to the interesting conversation based in educated and well-read minds? Will our noses twitch with the overload of wonderful scents of clean air, baking bread, perfume counters in the malls and fresh laundry softened and scented with Downy? Will we automatically wonder about the wisdom of touching others as we do here, always worried about disease and health issues as germs are daily spread from person to person who cannot get themselves clean in a bucket of cold water? Who will we be in the midst of a life in America that has gone on at its normal pace while we have taken ourselves half way around the world to walk differently? What will God say to us while we are away from this strange, but always becoming more familiar life in Uganda…surrounded by what we can only call “normal”?
We are leaving after 6 weeks of riding on the high seas of wonderful visits from friends – the US mission team, friends from Kampala, and our dear friends from home, Brian and Sue Gordon. We have been treated to a safari in the Serengeti which defies description in light of understanding God’s magnificent creation and the balance of nature all around us here in Africa. Christ Aid Academy has just opened for 2009, enthusiastic and grateful parents have gathered to focus on understanding the importance of education, 150 students have been treated to new school shoes, color is everywhere, glittering and shining due to generous donors at home, textbooks will soon arrive, purchased by students in Corey Baden’s school in Taiwan…we are leaving in the midst of much energy and hope for the future. We are laughing with our construction crew as they build the pit latrine, finding more and more villagers in Kicuna to work with us and bring shillings to their pockets, and expanding friendships and familiar territories. We will probably even shed a tear at telling Gladys and Stewart “au revoir” for 3 weeks! We are grateful to be leaving with joy in our hearts as we look back at the past 6 months.
But we are also leaving with great frustration and challenges before us on our return …and we wonder as we turn around the first week of March to head back this way if we will be prepared to handle the next 6 months of culture stress. Will we hit the wall of inefficiency here on March 5th and forget how to navigate? Will we come back speaking English and forgetting all the Rutooro we’ve learned? Will we find things in disarray at the school, or will our trust in the staff and construction crew be well-founded? And most of all, who will we be after we’ve been blessed with 3 weeks of loving family, good friends, fabulous food, and simply the good ole’ US of A? So we suppose this is another adventure…that in between land of “not really home” and “away from not really home”…we pray God’s hand is over all, that He teaches us well while we are both “away and home”, and that our joy from being home fills us up to be overflowing to those we greet on our return.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Prayer and Praises- February 10
Dear Prayer Warriors! We can hardly believe we are wrapping up our 6th month here in Uganda and are headed back to the states tomorrow for a family fix. I woke up this morning with mixed emotions about leaving - SO EXCITED to see our family, but somewhat sad to be leaving the work we have going here...the attached journal entry reflects those mixed feelings. As we have said our goodbyes to the people we work with, both Ugandans and Americans we have come to love, we have been touched at the sincere interest in our trip home, the many "hellos" to be extended to our family, and the promised prayers many will be lifting up for us for travel mercies and a blessed journey home. So our prayer requests this week are attached to our travel and our absence from Uganda:1. travel mercies for our trip2. blessed family fellowship - enough to fill us up for the next 6 months!3. the work here in Kicuna - construction to be efficient and good - our construction foreman Yusef to be a strong leader4. the work at Christ Aid Academy - that school will go well and Julius, our Headmaster, will run a tight ship under God's hand5. any work we need to accomplish at home, despite the fact we will not be in Colorado - whether it is via phone or email You are all dear friends and family, so we're giving you our travel schedule and contact information: Feb 10 - depart UgandaFeb 11 - arrive CincinnatiFeb 14 - depart Cincinnati for Texas, Trav, Trudie and my sister DebFeb 19 - return to Cincinnati for a weekend with Chris and familyFeb 20 - possible time with brother TedFeb 22 - Linda's mom arrivesFeb 26-March 1 - we babysit with Maddy and Roo in Cincinnati!March 2 - depart CincinnatiMarch 3 - arrive Entebbe Please contact us via phone at 513-871-7099 (Chris' home) or via email at our present email address. With our travel, it's obvious we will be out of contact periodically. We have no idea if we'll have a cell phone going or not. Mukama Abahe OmugisaBob and Linda
What Pictures Cannot Tell- January 23
“Where are the pictures?” everyone wants to know. Please remember – we are playing with a new system to the IT folks in Uganda. High-speed broad band and all the technical blessings and nightmares it brings are just being discovered here. Some days, everything is slick as a whistle, and others…well, get your cup of tea and relax at the computer while attachments attach. Just yesterday, we sent our grandchildren two beautiful pictures of a colobus monkey and a close up of a majestic kob wearing its horns like a crown, both taken in Toro-Semliki Wildlife Reserve. In an instant – pictures attached and email flew through the system. Two hours later, we tried to send a former student pictures of the school building and students with no luck. Tricky system, and some day we will be smarter than it is.
Until then, we will send pictures to a friend in the states who will post on our blog – we have decided that trying to get pictures through to one person will be more successful than getting them to a host of individuals. And as we have made that decision, wondering why in the world our efforts at sending the visual part of our experience are daily thwarted, we have also begun to ponder what the pictures really tell everyone at home. Are they speaking the truth? Do they reveal personalities? Are they uncovering emotions that lie behind the penetrating eyes and beautiful smiles? Are they unraveling the mystery of the Uganda scowl? Do they tell hidden stories? Do they guide the viewer to a deeper understanding of Ugandan? Will you know Uganda better because you have seen a picture of its landscape and its people?
If I showed you a picture of a Ugandan woman, hunched over her hoe, wrapped in beautiful, but dirty, fabric, barefooted and dripping from the sun’s heat, surrounded by baby green shoots bursting through mounds of dirt, what would you see? Would you hear a mother contentedly humming to her baby sitting on a cloth nearby in the dirt? Would you sense her gratitude that the earth is cooperating as it willingly bears its burden to feed her family? Or would you ache with the sorrow that she daily carries because this small field she digs is her only source of nutrition for her 6 children? Would you read in her bent-at-the-waist frame the weariness of years of loss…of spouse, of children, of parents?
If you saw a crystal clear, gushing mountain stream cascading down the sheer drops of the Rwenzoris, would it take your breath away? Would you see the valley stream it empties into on its way to providing a much-needed water supply for village residents? Would you see it as the source of both life and death for the up-country peasants who have no clean water source, but must have water to survive? Would you think of the creativity and ingenuity being used by people all over the world to invent new ways to provide clean water for a people plagued with intestinal diseases, parasites and worms which claim young lives on a regular basis?
Would you think Jesus is Lord of the crowd with hands raised clutching a Bible, eyes closed, and mouths open in praise and worship? Would you applaud the ease with which these people embrace a faith, brought to them long ago by colonizers and evangelists who baptized without permission and claimed entire villages for the Lord without conversion? Or would you be puzzled at the blending of tribal customs and Christian teachings which constantly leaves a native in confusion over how many wives to take and why men and women can be equal in the eyes of God but not in the local village? Would you thrill to the pulse of the drums behind the song being sung or wonder if they understood the words since few of them study the Bible? Would you take for granted the statistic that 85% of Ugandans are Christian and whisper “how easy it is to believe when you have nothing else in your life” or question if they have ever understood the Gospel?
What would you really see if I showed you a photo of a young Ugandan girl in a school uniform with books covered in newspaper clutched to her side? Would you consider her privileged to be getting an education or grasp that Uganda works to give a free education to all its citizens? Would you see her in a sea of faces – 50 to 60 to be exact – in her classroom, realizing that free education has brought the masses to the door without adequate provision for each student? Would you flinch at the blows she can receive from a teacher as discipline, a common practice in overcrowded campuses? Would you see the ragged and torn dress she puts on when she arrives home in exchange for the neatly pressed uniform she works diligently to keep clean for school? Would you catch a glimmer of the determination it takes for someone who walks 5 kilometers to and from school each day to possibly find a way to lay claim to a future of promise?
If you looked at the candid shots of men, boys, teens, young adults pushing bicycles loaded with matooke, cases of soft drinks, cartons of eggs, gerry cans of water, or bundles of wood…would you sigh and think “how sad they don’t have a truck”? Or would you see each step they take behind their bikes as they push their wares to market as the first step to developing as a small businessman? Would you understand that the peasants are just now beginning to grasp the idea of expanding their production to sell to a public who can bring them shillings to provide education, food, clothing, housing and healthcare for their families? Would you see them sitting one afternoon under a eucalyptus tree at a local village meeting where agriculture experts are teaching them how to financially benefit from the small pieces of land they own? Would you applaud their efforts at pushing produce to market just as you applaud the opening of another Starbucks?
If you had a picture of a “slasher” along the side of the road, whacking away at the tall grass threatening to interrupt traffic, would you wonder where the weed-eater was? Or would you see how good it must feel to a Ugandan to expend his energy in a worthwhile endeavor when the other choice is to sit under a tree all day long? Would you understand that there are days where petrol for a weed-eater is unavailable because it can’t get here from the noisy port of Mombasa on the Kenya coast, so keeping life simple is often a blessing?
If you thumbed through my stack of photos and stopped at the minister or the priest with his neat black and white collar encircling his neck, smile on his face and his arm around a local child, would you rejoice that Christianity has arrived in Uganda to the tune of 85% of the population? Perhaps you would see churches filled with lively congregations, opportunities for the Gospel message to be taught and God’s word to be studied. Maybe you would ponder the sacrifice that so many genuinely and passionately have made to be the feet, hands and heart of God this far around the world? But would you also see what the Ugandans sometimes see when they see a pastor’s collar…the possibility that faith and corruption walk hand in hand and that God’s word cannot possibly be true if the man who tells me it is true doesn’t walk his talk?
If you saw jumpsuit-clad workers for the electrical company, straining and heaving to pull up new electrical poles into place, charged with the challenge of bringing electricity to western Uganda, I’m certain you would have high praise for the present government which is working to bring sufficient infrastructure to its people, no matter how close or far they are from Kampala. You would feel good about Uganda and its progress to provide for its people, understand that many countries have come alongside of this tiny “pearl of Africa” to bring it opportunities for prosperity and help it extend the life expectancy of its people. You would imagine the smiles on the faces and the explosion of applause as the light switch goes on the first time in a small hut on a remote hillside. But would you add one plus one and get three, as most families will? Would you see productivity or futility? Electrical voltage brought to rural huts does not equal light – can the peasants afford electricity? Do they have enough shillings in their pockets to reach up and grab the energy from that wire that has been so carefully strung on the pole to connect to their own hut?
And if you scanned photos of faces, hundreds and hundred of Ugandan faces, what would you see if you looked into their eyes and behind their smiles or their scowls? Would you worry about their survival – will they die from disease, malnutrition, exhaustion? Would you understand the pride they take in their country, and even more specifically in their kingdom? Would you read the bewilderment in their minds as they struggle with the dilemma of how to cling to generational ties and still yearn for a cell phone and a television? Could you ever imagine that they are just simply content with their hut and a plot of land which feeds their family, even though that simple contentment also most often brings early death according to western standards? Would you wonder what will happen to their daily lives as they are more and more forced to engage with the 21st century which eludes them financially but surrounds them with its toys and tools every time they leave the village?
What would you see if you have never been to Africa…to touch it, to smell it, to experience it? And what will we see after we leave this place? Will we read pictures with a new understanding, or will we put Uganda behind us and see only what we want to see – will our glance at a photo be one dimensional or multi-layered with colors and hues shining through the glossy finish? Will photos speak a deep new language to us of the universal body of Christ or will we lapse into our superficial reactions of dismay and sympathy when we see an African face? Will God have carved a new place in our hearts which will prompt prayer for a people we once did not know and unity with spirits we still might not understand? We don’t have all the answers, but we do know that each photo has captured a moment in time of Kingdom progress which has not been wasted – it has been part of the earthly journey for all of us, African and American, on the way to eternal life with the Father.
Until then, we will send pictures to a friend in the states who will post on our blog – we have decided that trying to get pictures through to one person will be more successful than getting them to a host of individuals. And as we have made that decision, wondering why in the world our efforts at sending the visual part of our experience are daily thwarted, we have also begun to ponder what the pictures really tell everyone at home. Are they speaking the truth? Do they reveal personalities? Are they uncovering emotions that lie behind the penetrating eyes and beautiful smiles? Are they unraveling the mystery of the Uganda scowl? Do they tell hidden stories? Do they guide the viewer to a deeper understanding of Ugandan? Will you know Uganda better because you have seen a picture of its landscape and its people?
If I showed you a picture of a Ugandan woman, hunched over her hoe, wrapped in beautiful, but dirty, fabric, barefooted and dripping from the sun’s heat, surrounded by baby green shoots bursting through mounds of dirt, what would you see? Would you hear a mother contentedly humming to her baby sitting on a cloth nearby in the dirt? Would you sense her gratitude that the earth is cooperating as it willingly bears its burden to feed her family? Or would you ache with the sorrow that she daily carries because this small field she digs is her only source of nutrition for her 6 children? Would you read in her bent-at-the-waist frame the weariness of years of loss…of spouse, of children, of parents?
If you saw a crystal clear, gushing mountain stream cascading down the sheer drops of the Rwenzoris, would it take your breath away? Would you see the valley stream it empties into on its way to providing a much-needed water supply for village residents? Would you see it as the source of both life and death for the up-country peasants who have no clean water source, but must have water to survive? Would you think of the creativity and ingenuity being used by people all over the world to invent new ways to provide clean water for a people plagued with intestinal diseases, parasites and worms which claim young lives on a regular basis?
Would you think Jesus is Lord of the crowd with hands raised clutching a Bible, eyes closed, and mouths open in praise and worship? Would you applaud the ease with which these people embrace a faith, brought to them long ago by colonizers and evangelists who baptized without permission and claimed entire villages for the Lord without conversion? Or would you be puzzled at the blending of tribal customs and Christian teachings which constantly leaves a native in confusion over how many wives to take and why men and women can be equal in the eyes of God but not in the local village? Would you thrill to the pulse of the drums behind the song being sung or wonder if they understood the words since few of them study the Bible? Would you take for granted the statistic that 85% of Ugandans are Christian and whisper “how easy it is to believe when you have nothing else in your life” or question if they have ever understood the Gospel?
What would you really see if I showed you a photo of a young Ugandan girl in a school uniform with books covered in newspaper clutched to her side? Would you consider her privileged to be getting an education or grasp that Uganda works to give a free education to all its citizens? Would you see her in a sea of faces – 50 to 60 to be exact – in her classroom, realizing that free education has brought the masses to the door without adequate provision for each student? Would you flinch at the blows she can receive from a teacher as discipline, a common practice in overcrowded campuses? Would you see the ragged and torn dress she puts on when she arrives home in exchange for the neatly pressed uniform she works diligently to keep clean for school? Would you catch a glimmer of the determination it takes for someone who walks 5 kilometers to and from school each day to possibly find a way to lay claim to a future of promise?
If you looked at the candid shots of men, boys, teens, young adults pushing bicycles loaded with matooke, cases of soft drinks, cartons of eggs, gerry cans of water, or bundles of wood…would you sigh and think “how sad they don’t have a truck”? Or would you see each step they take behind their bikes as they push their wares to market as the first step to developing as a small businessman? Would you understand that the peasants are just now beginning to grasp the idea of expanding their production to sell to a public who can bring them shillings to provide education, food, clothing, housing and healthcare for their families? Would you see them sitting one afternoon under a eucalyptus tree at a local village meeting where agriculture experts are teaching them how to financially benefit from the small pieces of land they own? Would you applaud their efforts at pushing produce to market just as you applaud the opening of another Starbucks?
If you had a picture of a “slasher” along the side of the road, whacking away at the tall grass threatening to interrupt traffic, would you wonder where the weed-eater was? Or would you see how good it must feel to a Ugandan to expend his energy in a worthwhile endeavor when the other choice is to sit under a tree all day long? Would you understand that there are days where petrol for a weed-eater is unavailable because it can’t get here from the noisy port of Mombasa on the Kenya coast, so keeping life simple is often a blessing?
If you thumbed through my stack of photos and stopped at the minister or the priest with his neat black and white collar encircling his neck, smile on his face and his arm around a local child, would you rejoice that Christianity has arrived in Uganda to the tune of 85% of the population? Perhaps you would see churches filled with lively congregations, opportunities for the Gospel message to be taught and God’s word to be studied. Maybe you would ponder the sacrifice that so many genuinely and passionately have made to be the feet, hands and heart of God this far around the world? But would you also see what the Ugandans sometimes see when they see a pastor’s collar…the possibility that faith and corruption walk hand in hand and that God’s word cannot possibly be true if the man who tells me it is true doesn’t walk his talk?
If you saw jumpsuit-clad workers for the electrical company, straining and heaving to pull up new electrical poles into place, charged with the challenge of bringing electricity to western Uganda, I’m certain you would have high praise for the present government which is working to bring sufficient infrastructure to its people, no matter how close or far they are from Kampala. You would feel good about Uganda and its progress to provide for its people, understand that many countries have come alongside of this tiny “pearl of Africa” to bring it opportunities for prosperity and help it extend the life expectancy of its people. You would imagine the smiles on the faces and the explosion of applause as the light switch goes on the first time in a small hut on a remote hillside. But would you add one plus one and get three, as most families will? Would you see productivity or futility? Electrical voltage brought to rural huts does not equal light – can the peasants afford electricity? Do they have enough shillings in their pockets to reach up and grab the energy from that wire that has been so carefully strung on the pole to connect to their own hut?
And if you scanned photos of faces, hundreds and hundred of Ugandan faces, what would you see if you looked into their eyes and behind their smiles or their scowls? Would you worry about their survival – will they die from disease, malnutrition, exhaustion? Would you understand the pride they take in their country, and even more specifically in their kingdom? Would you read the bewilderment in their minds as they struggle with the dilemma of how to cling to generational ties and still yearn for a cell phone and a television? Could you ever imagine that they are just simply content with their hut and a plot of land which feeds their family, even though that simple contentment also most often brings early death according to western standards? Would you wonder what will happen to their daily lives as they are more and more forced to engage with the 21st century which eludes them financially but surrounds them with its toys and tools every time they leave the village?
What would you see if you have never been to Africa…to touch it, to smell it, to experience it? And what will we see after we leave this place? Will we read pictures with a new understanding, or will we put Uganda behind us and see only what we want to see – will our glance at a photo be one dimensional or multi-layered with colors and hues shining through the glossy finish? Will photos speak a deep new language to us of the universal body of Christ or will we lapse into our superficial reactions of dismay and sympathy when we see an African face? Will God have carved a new place in our hearts which will prompt prayer for a people we once did not know and unity with spirits we still might not understand? We don’t have all the answers, but we do know that each photo has captured a moment in time of Kingdom progress which has not been wasted – it has been part of the earthly journey for all of us, African and American, on the way to eternal life with the Father.
Prayers and Praises- January 23
It's early Saturday morning, we have wonderful company from Kampala (really Seattle) and Bob and Tim are off with other mzungus on a hike in the Rwenzori Mountains. They should have tales on their return...it can only be so when you head out in the wild with the Democratic Republic of Congo on the other side...YIKES! Seriously, it is very safe...please do not worry. Prayer requests for this week...1. Protection as the pit latrine is still under construction...it is somewhat dangerous to be 35 feet down in the ground...2. continued thanksgiving for the support we receive in so many ways - prayer, funds, emails, supplies.3. God's truth to reign in all we do...please pray that consistently. 4. The opening of school on February 2nd - we hope to have 160 students in P1, P2 and P35. Our teaching staff at Christ Aid Academy - they are relentless in doing a good job!6. Our travel...to Tanzania and to the states - travel mercies.7. A new Bible College starting under Calvary Chapel in Fort Portal - for the Holy Spirit to stir Ugandans hearts to want to know God's word. We are in the states from FEbruary 11 to March 2 - but not certain if we will be in Colorado due to our family demands in Texas and Ohio. If we are coming to Colorado, we will email everyone with that information and hope to see any and all of you when we are home! Mukama Abahe OmugisaBob and Linda
A Week of Surprises (January 19th)
A WEEK OF SURPRISES!
After living in Fort Portal for almost 5 months, some aspects of Ugandan life have become as natural as breathing…I’m not saying that we have accepted those aspects as healthy, normal or beneficial, but that we have learned to manage the circumstances in order to survive to face another day! We have listened to the advice of both savvy Ugandans and Americans made wise by experience, as well as being baptized by fire in the midst of our own personal trials and tribulations. We have stood our ground and planted and unfurled our flag of an ethical standard on a foreign soil which is not always hospitable to our demands.
So when I say a “week of surprise,” you might be guessing something like unexpected visitors, a sudden influx of funding, a missing box in the mail, a food item from home we haven’t eaten in months…who knows what you are thinking. But what we are saying is that in the midst of continued difficulties, frustrations and trials at work in the mission field, God blessed us with a week of tiny little incidents which spoke huge words of encouragement to weary souls who are looking for any bread crumb to catch as it falls from the table of ethics, integrity and Biblical principles. Each incident alone would stand tall and proud in any of this journaling, but realizing that they each came in the span of less than a week probably shows that God knew we needed a rather large dose of “I’m walking this with you” pills.
In a country where the headlines and articles on the first 3 pages of the daily newspaper reflect which department of the government is under scrutiny for corruption, or which MP is under fire for the same, and a constant topic of conversation with Ugandans is corruption, we have come to accept this reality of the country in which we live. The tendency to not quite tell the entire truth and the accepted use of deception and deceit to pepper transactions in this culture threatened to undo us from the first week of life in Uganda. Since our goal has been to use donor money wisely, protecting their interests in having us here in Uganda to build a school, we have taken very seriously the battles we have had to fight to be engaged in legitimate business. We have gone head to head with a variety of institutions and businesses to get legitimate refunds, fought Barclays bank over lost wires, wrangled with the URA over our car title, and simply accepted that we can always be hoodwinked into paying far too much for a long list of commodities. Fortunately, we have also been blessed by many Ugandans who seek a different standard from which to function…a life where you can trust your fellow citizen, business deals do not disintegrate into accusations, and accountability creates a stronger economy. But for now, no matter who we work with and what we are trying to accomplish, we are wary, suspicious and fully expecting to draw the short stick. The daily goal is to see it coming and do the best you can to circumvent the situation and come out victorious!
So within the span of one week, we heard Headmaster Julius explain to our new teacher Michael that Christ Aid Academy was more about building a school and caring about the students than it was about salary…Isa, the chef at Sunrise Lodge, called us to report that we had dropped a 10,000ugx note on the floor on our departure from a delicious dinner…and Yusef, our construction foreman, carefully counted and reported that the cement bag delivery crew had stolen 2 bags of cement. We were flying high on those incidents alone…a headmaster who grasped the concept of building a community through building a school rather than grasping at shillings, a young chef who was worried that we get our 10,000ugx back in our pockets instead of slipping it into his, and a construction foreman who took the time to count 103 bags of cement to verify the theft instead of shrugging it off as the Ugandan way.
We were in for an even bigger treat than we could have ever imagined…after Bob accidentally hit a parked car in the Mountains of the Moon parking lot. Yes, hit a car! Let your imagination run wild with that incident…in a country where no one wants to go to the police because they might just need a bribe to “make something happen” in your favor, what in the world do you do when you hit an unattended car? In a country where very few people carry car insurance because they can barely afford a car, much less the payment for insurance, who are you gonna’ call? It’s dark, it’s late, no one saw…our car has no damage. Of course you go find the owner! We would think of doing nothing else.
Now that the situation is resolved, it is actually a little humorous how it all happened. Bob was not in the best mood anyway, having camped at the construction site most of the day, working with the mission team, and wanting only to put his feet up at home, relax and enjoy some down time. On his afternoon return home, he and Stewart had struggled with the back door of our Prado to get the latch working properly when suddenly…pop…Stewart undid some very important part of the latch and the door would not shut…at all. With all heads gathered together in commiseration, Gladys, Stewart and Bob hopped in the car to head to the nearest known body-shop guru for a quick fix and I headed to Mountains with the mission team. Bob arrived very late, didn’t order, nibbled off my plate and was ready to go the minute he arrived.
In the deep dark of Ugandan night, no moon shining, no stars out, a small, also very dark car had parked next to our front passenger side…with maybe only a foot between our rather large Prado and the baby SUV. As Bob hopped in the driver’s side in the deep dark Ugandan night, he never saw the small, also very dark baby SUV, started the car, put it in reverse, turned the wheel, hit the gas and undoubtedly firmly whacked the baby SUV. While I stood waiting at the pickup spot, Bob was ending his day all alone on a not-so-good note. When he walked around the corner from the parking lot with no wheels under him, I knew something was not right. Somehow, he stayed calm, all the while I’m sure thinking he should have stayed at home with his feet propped up and enjoying some down time instead of being at Mountains of the Moon at 10:30 on a very dark Ugandan night.
He found a hotel employee who immediately came to the car, inspected the damages, shook his head is dismay, and said he knew the owner and headed back into the hotel. In just a few minutes, a young Ugandan man came out of the hotel, Bob backed our Prado up so the lights could shine on the damage…a broken rear view mirror and a dented and scratched door. There were attempts at light conversation and no wailing and moaning from the owner, and soon he and Aiden exchanged phone numbers, calmly agreeing to meet the following morning to “settle” the situation. And just what does “settle” the situation mean in a foreign African country? We could only imagine, and spent the better part of the late evening and the early morning plotting and planning how to at least survive the situation without too much financial damage. You would have thought we were lining up our troops to go into major life and death battle instead of simply figuring out who to call, where to meet and what to offer the owner of the damaged car.
Lots of prayer and a good night’s sleep later, we both woke up with the same idea! Call Lew, the Baptist missionary who always tells the truth, confronts a situation head on, and knows how to financially arm wrestle his way through any troublesome situation. There was no thought of calling an insurance company because that means you file a police report. You file a police report and you crawl down into the abyss of money passing under tables or behind backs. We both wanted to just honestly pay for the damages, wish Aiden the best, and be happy that no one was hurt! The resolution to the problem could be so very simple from our perspective, but from every story we had heard about such dealings in Uganda, from both mzungus and from Ugandans, we did not expect simplicity. We expected weeks of hotly contested estimates on how much it would take to repair the minor damages.
We called Lew, only to discover that he had commitments and would not be around. We called Jeff with no answer…we called Doug with no answer… all these Americans had far more experience, ours being at zero, than we had in dealing with delicate situations here in Uganda. As Bob sat and puzzled over how to proceed without his wing man, I sat and tenaciously held on to the idea of Lew going with Bob. For some reason, my mind wouldn’t let him go to Kyenjojo, the neighboring town he was headed to. In a few short minutes, Lew had called back, said he would delay his departure, and head to Bob’s meeting with Aiden. Wing man back in place, Bob drew courage, we decided that we would pay no more than 1,500,000ugx for the car repair, analyzed how to withdraw that many shillings from the bank and we headed out in the Prado of now ill-repute.
Knowing that these meetings take place between only the involved parties and chosen wing men, rather like an old fashioned duel, I hopped out of the car to spend time with Brandi and her baby girls, while Bob and Lew headed across the street to Mountains, swords of truth and honor ready to be unsheathed. Brandi and I settled in for a long talk and the possibility of morning tea while Elizabeth played and Abigail slept. In 10 short minutes, we were stunned as the men walked back into the house with an amazing story. They were headed to a body shop at St. Joseph vocational school to get an estimate on the damages because…
When Bob and Lew arrived to face Aiden and his wing man, Aiden never drew his sword, but instead immediately told Bob that our car had not damaged his rear view mirror…it had been previously broken. Bob was stunned and asked why he was telling him the truth. Aiden replied, “You hit my car and came to find me. My countryman would have left and never told me. You told me the truth, I must tell you the truth.” Bob asked how he would like to proceed in taking care of the car repair. Aiden replied, “You should not pay any more than it costs to have the car repaired. Let’s go to an auto body shop and get an estimate. You can pay them directly or give me the money and I will have it fixed in Kampala when I return.”
Bob and Lew were speechless…and continued to suspect foul transactions on the horizon. Unfortunately we have already been groomed to suspect that Aiden would take us to “his” body shop and the price would be…let’s say…expanded a bit. So it wasn’t until the entire transaction was completed that Bob and Lew breathed a deep sigh of relief and took suspicion out of the equation. Aiden had broken the mold and played fair. He had stepped up to the plate to go to bat for ethics and honor. He told only the truth and nothing but the truth, asked only for what was rightfully his and the case was closed.
On arrival at the St. Joseph vocational school, run by the priests so one would assume ethics are fairly important, the mechanic studied the baby SUV and gave an estimate of 159,000ugx…keep in mind, we were prepared to pay up to 1,500,000ugx to simply walk away from the accident and not hear from Aiden again. Aiden thought it was too much for Bob to pay and argued to have it reduced to 140,000ugx…Bob and Lew stood in wonder as Aiden worked diligently to be sure the price was fair, and finally agreed with everyone on 150,000ugx and called it a good day’s work. With legitimate shillings in hand, Aiden left having done a good day’s work as well. With a smile on his face, he told Bob, “I hope my handling this fairly will mean someone else will be fair to me some day.” There is an order to the universe which blesses us all…an order which calls on each of us to choose God’s ways so that chaos will not be victorious. The simple step of speaking truth spreads out in ripples which go farther than we can imagine and influence more than we can know. Minds have no need of churning, souls rest easy, and lives peacefully move on. We think Aiden just made our Hall of Fame for integrity and honesty…and we pray he will be fairly treated someday when he finds himself in need of the same honesty he showed us after Bob hit his very dark baby SUV in the deep dark of a Ugandan night.
After living in Fort Portal for almost 5 months, some aspects of Ugandan life have become as natural as breathing…I’m not saying that we have accepted those aspects as healthy, normal or beneficial, but that we have learned to manage the circumstances in order to survive to face another day! We have listened to the advice of both savvy Ugandans and Americans made wise by experience, as well as being baptized by fire in the midst of our own personal trials and tribulations. We have stood our ground and planted and unfurled our flag of an ethical standard on a foreign soil which is not always hospitable to our demands.
So when I say a “week of surprise,” you might be guessing something like unexpected visitors, a sudden influx of funding, a missing box in the mail, a food item from home we haven’t eaten in months…who knows what you are thinking. But what we are saying is that in the midst of continued difficulties, frustrations and trials at work in the mission field, God blessed us with a week of tiny little incidents which spoke huge words of encouragement to weary souls who are looking for any bread crumb to catch as it falls from the table of ethics, integrity and Biblical principles. Each incident alone would stand tall and proud in any of this journaling, but realizing that they each came in the span of less than a week probably shows that God knew we needed a rather large dose of “I’m walking this with you” pills.
In a country where the headlines and articles on the first 3 pages of the daily newspaper reflect which department of the government is under scrutiny for corruption, or which MP is under fire for the same, and a constant topic of conversation with Ugandans is corruption, we have come to accept this reality of the country in which we live. The tendency to not quite tell the entire truth and the accepted use of deception and deceit to pepper transactions in this culture threatened to undo us from the first week of life in Uganda. Since our goal has been to use donor money wisely, protecting their interests in having us here in Uganda to build a school, we have taken very seriously the battles we have had to fight to be engaged in legitimate business. We have gone head to head with a variety of institutions and businesses to get legitimate refunds, fought Barclays bank over lost wires, wrangled with the URA over our car title, and simply accepted that we can always be hoodwinked into paying far too much for a long list of commodities. Fortunately, we have also been blessed by many Ugandans who seek a different standard from which to function…a life where you can trust your fellow citizen, business deals do not disintegrate into accusations, and accountability creates a stronger economy. But for now, no matter who we work with and what we are trying to accomplish, we are wary, suspicious and fully expecting to draw the short stick. The daily goal is to see it coming and do the best you can to circumvent the situation and come out victorious!
So within the span of one week, we heard Headmaster Julius explain to our new teacher Michael that Christ Aid Academy was more about building a school and caring about the students than it was about salary…Isa, the chef at Sunrise Lodge, called us to report that we had dropped a 10,000ugx note on the floor on our departure from a delicious dinner…and Yusef, our construction foreman, carefully counted and reported that the cement bag delivery crew had stolen 2 bags of cement. We were flying high on those incidents alone…a headmaster who grasped the concept of building a community through building a school rather than grasping at shillings, a young chef who was worried that we get our 10,000ugx back in our pockets instead of slipping it into his, and a construction foreman who took the time to count 103 bags of cement to verify the theft instead of shrugging it off as the Ugandan way.
We were in for an even bigger treat than we could have ever imagined…after Bob accidentally hit a parked car in the Mountains of the Moon parking lot. Yes, hit a car! Let your imagination run wild with that incident…in a country where no one wants to go to the police because they might just need a bribe to “make something happen” in your favor, what in the world do you do when you hit an unattended car? In a country where very few people carry car insurance because they can barely afford a car, much less the payment for insurance, who are you gonna’ call? It’s dark, it’s late, no one saw…our car has no damage. Of course you go find the owner! We would think of doing nothing else.
Now that the situation is resolved, it is actually a little humorous how it all happened. Bob was not in the best mood anyway, having camped at the construction site most of the day, working with the mission team, and wanting only to put his feet up at home, relax and enjoy some down time. On his afternoon return home, he and Stewart had struggled with the back door of our Prado to get the latch working properly when suddenly…pop…Stewart undid some very important part of the latch and the door would not shut…at all. With all heads gathered together in commiseration, Gladys, Stewart and Bob hopped in the car to head to the nearest known body-shop guru for a quick fix and I headed to Mountains with the mission team. Bob arrived very late, didn’t order, nibbled off my plate and was ready to go the minute he arrived.
In the deep dark of Ugandan night, no moon shining, no stars out, a small, also very dark car had parked next to our front passenger side…with maybe only a foot between our rather large Prado and the baby SUV. As Bob hopped in the driver’s side in the deep dark Ugandan night, he never saw the small, also very dark baby SUV, started the car, put it in reverse, turned the wheel, hit the gas and undoubtedly firmly whacked the baby SUV. While I stood waiting at the pickup spot, Bob was ending his day all alone on a not-so-good note. When he walked around the corner from the parking lot with no wheels under him, I knew something was not right. Somehow, he stayed calm, all the while I’m sure thinking he should have stayed at home with his feet propped up and enjoying some down time instead of being at Mountains of the Moon at 10:30 on a very dark Ugandan night.
He found a hotel employee who immediately came to the car, inspected the damages, shook his head is dismay, and said he knew the owner and headed back into the hotel. In just a few minutes, a young Ugandan man came out of the hotel, Bob backed our Prado up so the lights could shine on the damage…a broken rear view mirror and a dented and scratched door. There were attempts at light conversation and no wailing and moaning from the owner, and soon he and Aiden exchanged phone numbers, calmly agreeing to meet the following morning to “settle” the situation. And just what does “settle” the situation mean in a foreign African country? We could only imagine, and spent the better part of the late evening and the early morning plotting and planning how to at least survive the situation without too much financial damage. You would have thought we were lining up our troops to go into major life and death battle instead of simply figuring out who to call, where to meet and what to offer the owner of the damaged car.
Lots of prayer and a good night’s sleep later, we both woke up with the same idea! Call Lew, the Baptist missionary who always tells the truth, confronts a situation head on, and knows how to financially arm wrestle his way through any troublesome situation. There was no thought of calling an insurance company because that means you file a police report. You file a police report and you crawl down into the abyss of money passing under tables or behind backs. We both wanted to just honestly pay for the damages, wish Aiden the best, and be happy that no one was hurt! The resolution to the problem could be so very simple from our perspective, but from every story we had heard about such dealings in Uganda, from both mzungus and from Ugandans, we did not expect simplicity. We expected weeks of hotly contested estimates on how much it would take to repair the minor damages.
We called Lew, only to discover that he had commitments and would not be around. We called Jeff with no answer…we called Doug with no answer… all these Americans had far more experience, ours being at zero, than we had in dealing with delicate situations here in Uganda. As Bob sat and puzzled over how to proceed without his wing man, I sat and tenaciously held on to the idea of Lew going with Bob. For some reason, my mind wouldn’t let him go to Kyenjojo, the neighboring town he was headed to. In a few short minutes, Lew had called back, said he would delay his departure, and head to Bob’s meeting with Aiden. Wing man back in place, Bob drew courage, we decided that we would pay no more than 1,500,000ugx for the car repair, analyzed how to withdraw that many shillings from the bank and we headed out in the Prado of now ill-repute.
Knowing that these meetings take place between only the involved parties and chosen wing men, rather like an old fashioned duel, I hopped out of the car to spend time with Brandi and her baby girls, while Bob and Lew headed across the street to Mountains, swords of truth and honor ready to be unsheathed. Brandi and I settled in for a long talk and the possibility of morning tea while Elizabeth played and Abigail slept. In 10 short minutes, we were stunned as the men walked back into the house with an amazing story. They were headed to a body shop at St. Joseph vocational school to get an estimate on the damages because…
When Bob and Lew arrived to face Aiden and his wing man, Aiden never drew his sword, but instead immediately told Bob that our car had not damaged his rear view mirror…it had been previously broken. Bob was stunned and asked why he was telling him the truth. Aiden replied, “You hit my car and came to find me. My countryman would have left and never told me. You told me the truth, I must tell you the truth.” Bob asked how he would like to proceed in taking care of the car repair. Aiden replied, “You should not pay any more than it costs to have the car repaired. Let’s go to an auto body shop and get an estimate. You can pay them directly or give me the money and I will have it fixed in Kampala when I return.”
Bob and Lew were speechless…and continued to suspect foul transactions on the horizon. Unfortunately we have already been groomed to suspect that Aiden would take us to “his” body shop and the price would be…let’s say…expanded a bit. So it wasn’t until the entire transaction was completed that Bob and Lew breathed a deep sigh of relief and took suspicion out of the equation. Aiden had broken the mold and played fair. He had stepped up to the plate to go to bat for ethics and honor. He told only the truth and nothing but the truth, asked only for what was rightfully his and the case was closed.
On arrival at the St. Joseph vocational school, run by the priests so one would assume ethics are fairly important, the mechanic studied the baby SUV and gave an estimate of 159,000ugx…keep in mind, we were prepared to pay up to 1,500,000ugx to simply walk away from the accident and not hear from Aiden again. Aiden thought it was too much for Bob to pay and argued to have it reduced to 140,000ugx…Bob and Lew stood in wonder as Aiden worked diligently to be sure the price was fair, and finally agreed with everyone on 150,000ugx and called it a good day’s work. With legitimate shillings in hand, Aiden left having done a good day’s work as well. With a smile on his face, he told Bob, “I hope my handling this fairly will mean someone else will be fair to me some day.” There is an order to the universe which blesses us all…an order which calls on each of us to choose God’s ways so that chaos will not be victorious. The simple step of speaking truth spreads out in ripples which go farther than we can imagine and influence more than we can know. Minds have no need of churning, souls rest easy, and lives peacefully move on. We think Aiden just made our Hall of Fame for integrity and honesty…and we pray he will be fairly treated someday when he finds himself in need of the same honesty he showed us after Bob hit his very dark baby SUV in the deep dark of a Ugandan night.
January 19th -prayers and praises
Well, I suppose I will just be up front and say...many praises this week as so many things seem to be under control, our trip to Kampala was successful in many ways...the project is going so well...the mission team accomplished much for the school... But as always there are new prayer requests of concern...so here is our list of concerns and praises. Thanksgiving for...1. the resolution to our car situation - almost - but very near and fairly certain2. the success of the mission team in pouring foundations and painting walls...much more, but that especially for the school3. our temporary work permits in our hands4. our trip to the states on the horizon...with decisions still to be made about domestic travel - please pray for wisdom5. a successful Christ Aid Academy staff meeting to start the new year - our school motto? CHRIST ABOVE ALL (CAA...)6. the continued support of so many in the US Concern for...1. The February opening of the 2009 school year here in Uganda2. continued protection for the work crew on the construction site3. our personal travel and that of Brian and Sue Gordon who are headed here at the end of the month4. Christ Aid Uganda as they adjust to changes in staff5. Christ Aid USA as they continue their reorganization of the office and new board members begin6. all who are making adjustments to the economic situation in the US - no matter where they are! My journaling this week deals with a somewhat sensitive topic of corruption in Uganda...or in Africa in general. It is such a constant part of our lives, I thought you might as well get an insider's perspective on corruption. And it's a happy story...reflecting that in the midst of so many concerns about ethics, we believe there is hope for nations who are struggling to establish themselves as independent nations of integrity. I suppose we could add it to the "concern" part of our prayer list this week...or the "thanksgiving" part as well! God bless - Webaale Omwaka - (Happy New Year in Rutooro). Bob and Linda
I am going to write today
I’m going to write about today, January 5th, 2009…
…for no particular reason, except that as I heard myself sigh into our verandah chair, I paused to ponder that something was different about this day. For some reason, from early morning to the dark of night, I saw it as a uniquely comprehensive expression and unfolding of a myriad of components which make up the complexity and variety of our days.
And, if Bob or I had taken one more step in the wrong direction, he could be a pile of rubble underneath a huge palm branch which plummeted to the ground just off our back verandah and I could be a squashed piece of flesh under a reckless lorry. I decided the simple fact that he was still standing, even with an awestruck look on his pale face, after the weighty frond crashed exactly where he was intending to take his next step forward, was cause enough to celebrate by journaling about this day for future reference. And having narrowly missed being crushed by the speed and weight of the lorry delivering sand to the site, I myself was grateful to have not moved one step back in its path…and to have the opportunity to sit at the computer and download my thoughts. We will define that component of our day as hazard, as every day brings its own set of risks and dangers from something as simple as a tiny mosquito bite infecting us with malaria, to the daily chance you take of placing a tainted piece of food in your mouth, to connecting head on with a Links bus while crossing over the yellow line just a bit too far when courageously passing bands of boda bodas.
This very regular and normal day began in the early morning hours when our noses woke us up, jolted by such intense malodorous smells that neither one of us could sleep. Coming from the rich scents of pine and fresh mountain air in Colorado, our noses are starved for something wonderful to inhale, but it seems to elude us. We drive out to the lush green countryside, we walk into busy kitchens, we sit among the blooming flowers, and we were beginning to believe that our olfactory nerves were dead. But not after the foul odor which almost caused us to bolt out of bed and begin the day early. What in the world was it? Backed up sewage? Next door neighbor goats emitting an inexplicable odor? A stench from a compost pile? We battled in the dark of the night, nose against odor, but as we all know, the body’s reflexes keep us inhaling and stench won the day. The following morning produced no explanation, even on questioning Gladys and Stewart to see if they had experienced the same nocturnal trauma. We shall wait to see if the “smell of the night” returns as we live in the land of abundant pleasure for the eyes and great challenges for the nose.
The American community, as noted in a previous journal entry, is bright, engaging, interesting and faithful to the cause of Jesus Christ. They have become a regular part of most days, interactions coming at all levels with peers and children. Witness Isaac, recently capped and tassled with a doctorate degree in engineering, who spent the better part of his day helping Bob assess the correct proportions for mixing cement, as well as the balance of drainage for a school water supply. This is the same Isaac, who as a gentle father, engaged in the birth of each one of his 4 children by whispering into their ear after arrival “You are a child of God,” claiming another soul for the Lord before their first gasp for breath. Every time Bob discovers an American with a skill we need on the construction site (Isaac), in our personal endeavors (Connie to teach English to Stewart, Lew for hikes), help with the international affairs (Jeff and Bob), or an understanding of the culture and systems in Uganda (Carol Adams, Jeff and Bob), we whisper prayers of thanksgiving for each one who has brought us immeasurable joy and stood in the gap where family should be.
A day does not go by that we are not plotting and planning for a better Christ Aid Academy. This particular day brought us the challenge of making a personnel decision for the 4th teacher for 2009. In need of a teaching job, Michael had come to us, clutching degrees, identity cards and diplomas in hand. He presented himself to the present CAA faculty…as Headmaster Julius presented Christ Aid Academy to Michael. “Why did you leave your past position in a village school close to Mbarara?” queried Julius. “I was not paid for 3 months,” replied Michael, and continued, “and after the change in headmaster, I didn’t think I should stay.” Quick to reply, Julius explained that Michael may not receive regular payments here, in a private school where funds come from a variety of sources…that there are two kinds of employees – those in it for the money and those in it because they love what they do. He asked, “Will you escape from here if you are not paid?” Michael looked surprised at the line of questioning, but affirmed that he would be committed to the school. “Good,” answered Julius, then went on to explain eloquently and passionately that the staff here is committed to building a school, building a team, building a community. That Christ Aid Academy is much more about what is being accomplished for the students than it is about receiving a paycheck. That with Christ at the center of our work, we cannot fail. WOW! I felt like I was in the locker room of a football team right before the National Championship game! Michael was the winner of the day, as he was hired, housing was acquired, and he headed off to be trained in Thematic instruction for P3.
On any given day, we can never exclude the possibility of connecting with someone from home. On a regular basis, we find ourselves tripping over a wire of connection to someone we know who is traveling in Uganda, a friend of someone else who will be in Fort Portal, a providential meeting God puts in place for his purposes…someone we assume is crossing paths with us for Kingdom Work. Today it was Father Thomas O’Hara calling before he left Fort Portal for Kampala. Father Tom, President of Kings College in Pennsylvania, was sent on an errand of mercy from my brother, President of Elizabethtown College in Pennsylvania. The Golden Jubilee Holy Cross Order mass completed, Father Tom passed on hugs from home, set eyes on us so he could report that we were well, and promised to call before he left. Odd how a touch from home can bring such a blessing…
Corruption to accountability – we run the gamut every day. From construction superintendent Yusef who is the trustworthy needle in the Ugandan haystack of corruption… to the new lorry driver whose workers ingeniously slipped away with 2 bags of cement from Malik. Bob suspecting, Yusef counting, John confirming – all very slick and very normal, although I can’t fathom why it’s worth the risk and effort to sneak off with 2 bags of cement. Let’s see if I can explain…
We know by now to count bags as they are loaded, each one coming on the head of a worker and dumped into the lorry…we also count the bags as they are unloaded at the site, ensuring that money exchanged is equal to product received. As Malik’s workers loaded the bags, Bob and I counted 75 and told them to stop. The workers on the truck said they still needed 2 more…we did not argue, knowing we could recount at Kicuna. The lorry flew up to Kicuna, coating us in dust all the way as we followed behind. On arrival, the CAA construction crew began counting, grabbing and unloading. We reached 75 and there were still 2 bags in the truck. The lorry driver said he would take them back to Malik…Bob wisely said no, leave them here and we will pay for them and get 2 less next time. We unloaded the 2 extra bags, problem resolved, until one of the workers caught a glimpse of 2 bags of cement in the back of the departing truck. Yusef stayed to count what had been unloaded, John gave the second eye witness report that the workers put two bags back in the truck, and Bob will return to Malik’s to pay him for stolen goods and Zed, the lorry driver…well…end of story…
We have stirred the dust on the road to Kicuna more than normal on this particular day. The necessary morning trip for construction consultations and CAA staff meeting coupled with an unusual late day trip to count the cement bags put our Prado at risk more than usual as we did the bump and grind up to Kicuna, dust flying, windows going up and down, and the normal trail of kids racing alongside the car or close behind it. With the mission team on site, demands are much higher as there are more workers and more work which necessitates more deliveries of aggregate, concrete and sand. The building is flying through the foundation stage, team workers are getting dustier and dirtier by the day, and when all is said and done at the end of a week’s work, the building will have some of its foundation and the volunteer laborers will board a plane in Entebbe with aching muscles telling them their work was fruitful.
As we arrived late in the afternoon to oversee the unloading of cement, Mary greeted us as she regally paraded around with a tea tray in hand, sidestepping the cow dung all over the upper field. Just past Mary’s offer of tea, we were greeted not only by construction workers, but by a group of people working on land surveys and registration that she was attempting to make welcome through providing the tea time they were missing at home. With sun setting, dust and smoke clearing from the day and the Rwenzoris appearing with a blazing sky behind them, I finally succumbed to her request to partake, grabbed my china cup and saucer filled with sweet African tea, and plopped down in front of Tukwateho Jesu…Touchdown Jesus. It was an “Out of Africa” moment which pops up periodically at the oddest times – dust and haze, calm and quiet, peace and tranquility, cattle and chickens, mountains looming in the distance, workers laughing and chatting in Rutooro, the breeze gentle and cool, and a moment to ponder the face of Christ and ask what in the world we were doing in Uganda…
I sat still and silent, watching the buzz of activity around me – men with bowed heads clustered together and discussing land boundary issues – bush to the left, tree to the right…workers gregariously hauling cement into the school room where it would be locked away for the night, children coming and going in curiosity of the activity. One young man stood at the mirror by the driver’s side of the lorry, captivated by his image, his head moving back and forth as he primped and preened, just like a bird in a cage. I wondered how long he would be mesmerized, knowing that he rarely has an opportunity to see if he likes the face God gave him. Oddly enough, he lingered only a few moments for his public preening, then sauntered off up the hill, leaving me to wonder if he was happy or sad with what he saw.
Staff issues are on the burner every day, as was evidenced by Florence’s face scrunched up into the Uganda scowl. With heart pounding and passion flaring, she asked if we could recycle two grandmas who had recently lost their US sponsors. Lorraine, a team member from the US, would like to adopt 2 Grandmas for Jesus. She expressed concern that her priority list of most needy to recycle will be shot down and she will be forced to put other grandmas on the program before her well thought out most needy list. Will the board allow her the freedom to choose as she sees necessary…accord her the trust that confirms she is on the ground, in the huts and face to face with those in need? We took a moment to find a board member, posed the questions, fortunately received the encouraging answer, and the Uganda scowl was erased and transformed into a bright smile! Lorraine will meet her grandmas and know firsthand their needs, their rugged and wrinkled faces, their sweet spirits…and Florence will still be smiling next week.
Having left sketchy and hurried instructions with Gladys late in the afternoon on how to prepare a spinach salad for dinner- large pieces of torn spinach and fresh lettuce, chopped hardboiled eggs, sliced onions and croutons - then wait for us to return to fry freshly purchased bacon and create a sweet and sour dressing – we arrived home after the long afternoon to discover… spinach and lettuce cooked down to almost nothing…tasty, but cooked, nonetheless. I reminded myself that home front issues assault us every day – in the form of broken objects, lizards and bugs, and as always, communication which misses the mark. I gently took Gladys’ chin in my hand, turned her face to me and laughed…and explained clearly to her that salad with spinach and lettuce meant “cold” not “hot and cooked”! We threw the chopped hardboiled eggs and croutons into bags and shifted to the refrigerator, fried the bacon with onions and peppers, tossed with leftover spaghetti, and had a far from gourmet but thoroughly delicious dinner. Improvise, improvise, improvise…nothing is what you expect. Keeps life exciting!
And what would a day be without someone’s plea for help? From the local ragged beggar, to the hopeful family member of an Ahadi Kid, to an energetic worker on site, to a stranger walking down the road in Kicuna…we are mzungu, we are wealthy, we are asked. Never far away from us is the needy Ugandan who is seeking a way to pay for school fees, open a small business, or find a way to the United States. The story is always similar as family trees are shared, hard times are revealed, and hopes for the future expressed. Today it was Isaac, both worker and co-church goer, who approached us and asked if we can put a good word in with Christ Aid for Ahadi Kid support. Isaac lives with an elderly father who can no longer help support him, earns money himself on the work site to pay school fees, and is energetic and motivated enough to see that with God’s help, he can form and shape his future. While we cannot make money appear on a tree, and we certainly cannot guarantee a spot as an Ahadi Kid, we can give him a job and pray he can struggle his way through the next year to complete his studies – a man of 25 patiently completing Senior 6.
Add to this very normal day the fact that the US mission team is here…cramming and jostling as much activity into their short visit as possible, hoping to grab a glimpse of life in Uganda for those who are under the curse of poverty and disease. How can you understand in 10 short days? Can the visit make a deep enough impression so that you will have forever imprinted on your mind and heart the painful need, the grieving souls, and the cry for help? Is any amount of time enough to understand what these people have lived through with Amin and AIDS? Can multiple visits to grandmas and Ahadi Kids give you the insight we need to carry close to our hearts the desire to serve and encourage? Do the Ugandan laughter and smiles in the face of their daily challenges put minds at ease and cause visitors to settle into a relaxed position of accepting their challenging lives as normal? Can the mind absorb quickly enough all the years of past history which have shaped this country into the throbbing need and pulsating desire to improve lived out by its people each day? Hope on the horizon is a faint light that we pray grows brighter with more people who come and care to share not only the Gospel of Jesus Christ to fire the spirit, but resources to support the body and mind.
The expected components of most days…people, the project, food, activity, movement, thought, surprise, improvisation, need, problems, prayer…but for some reason woven together in such a fashion that my heart was struck by each incident that brought meaning to January 5th, 2009. As I sat before Tukwateho Jesu and cast a glance at the hazy landscape of Kicuna, my collected thoughts gathered into a single microcosm brimming with the energy of each day as seen through all the varied ingredients…and I shook my head in wonder – only God could manage this day and every day’s work in Uganda. Only God could call and equip…and only God could be at the controls of such diversity woven together into such unity to create a little primary school on the hillside of Kicuna.
…for no particular reason, except that as I heard myself sigh into our verandah chair, I paused to ponder that something was different about this day. For some reason, from early morning to the dark of night, I saw it as a uniquely comprehensive expression and unfolding of a myriad of components which make up the complexity and variety of our days.
And, if Bob or I had taken one more step in the wrong direction, he could be a pile of rubble underneath a huge palm branch which plummeted to the ground just off our back verandah and I could be a squashed piece of flesh under a reckless lorry. I decided the simple fact that he was still standing, even with an awestruck look on his pale face, after the weighty frond crashed exactly where he was intending to take his next step forward, was cause enough to celebrate by journaling about this day for future reference. And having narrowly missed being crushed by the speed and weight of the lorry delivering sand to the site, I myself was grateful to have not moved one step back in its path…and to have the opportunity to sit at the computer and download my thoughts. We will define that component of our day as hazard, as every day brings its own set of risks and dangers from something as simple as a tiny mosquito bite infecting us with malaria, to the daily chance you take of placing a tainted piece of food in your mouth, to connecting head on with a Links bus while crossing over the yellow line just a bit too far when courageously passing bands of boda bodas.
This very regular and normal day began in the early morning hours when our noses woke us up, jolted by such intense malodorous smells that neither one of us could sleep. Coming from the rich scents of pine and fresh mountain air in Colorado, our noses are starved for something wonderful to inhale, but it seems to elude us. We drive out to the lush green countryside, we walk into busy kitchens, we sit among the blooming flowers, and we were beginning to believe that our olfactory nerves were dead. But not after the foul odor which almost caused us to bolt out of bed and begin the day early. What in the world was it? Backed up sewage? Next door neighbor goats emitting an inexplicable odor? A stench from a compost pile? We battled in the dark of the night, nose against odor, but as we all know, the body’s reflexes keep us inhaling and stench won the day. The following morning produced no explanation, even on questioning Gladys and Stewart to see if they had experienced the same nocturnal trauma. We shall wait to see if the “smell of the night” returns as we live in the land of abundant pleasure for the eyes and great challenges for the nose.
The American community, as noted in a previous journal entry, is bright, engaging, interesting and faithful to the cause of Jesus Christ. They have become a regular part of most days, interactions coming at all levels with peers and children. Witness Isaac, recently capped and tassled with a doctorate degree in engineering, who spent the better part of his day helping Bob assess the correct proportions for mixing cement, as well as the balance of drainage for a school water supply. This is the same Isaac, who as a gentle father, engaged in the birth of each one of his 4 children by whispering into their ear after arrival “You are a child of God,” claiming another soul for the Lord before their first gasp for breath. Every time Bob discovers an American with a skill we need on the construction site (Isaac), in our personal endeavors (Connie to teach English to Stewart, Lew for hikes), help with the international affairs (Jeff and Bob), or an understanding of the culture and systems in Uganda (Carol Adams, Jeff and Bob), we whisper prayers of thanksgiving for each one who has brought us immeasurable joy and stood in the gap where family should be.
A day does not go by that we are not plotting and planning for a better Christ Aid Academy. This particular day brought us the challenge of making a personnel decision for the 4th teacher for 2009. In need of a teaching job, Michael had come to us, clutching degrees, identity cards and diplomas in hand. He presented himself to the present CAA faculty…as Headmaster Julius presented Christ Aid Academy to Michael. “Why did you leave your past position in a village school close to Mbarara?” queried Julius. “I was not paid for 3 months,” replied Michael, and continued, “and after the change in headmaster, I didn’t think I should stay.” Quick to reply, Julius explained that Michael may not receive regular payments here, in a private school where funds come from a variety of sources…that there are two kinds of employees – those in it for the money and those in it because they love what they do. He asked, “Will you escape from here if you are not paid?” Michael looked surprised at the line of questioning, but affirmed that he would be committed to the school. “Good,” answered Julius, then went on to explain eloquently and passionately that the staff here is committed to building a school, building a team, building a community. That Christ Aid Academy is much more about what is being accomplished for the students than it is about receiving a paycheck. That with Christ at the center of our work, we cannot fail. WOW! I felt like I was in the locker room of a football team right before the National Championship game! Michael was the winner of the day, as he was hired, housing was acquired, and he headed off to be trained in Thematic instruction for P3.
On any given day, we can never exclude the possibility of connecting with someone from home. On a regular basis, we find ourselves tripping over a wire of connection to someone we know who is traveling in Uganda, a friend of someone else who will be in Fort Portal, a providential meeting God puts in place for his purposes…someone we assume is crossing paths with us for Kingdom Work. Today it was Father Thomas O’Hara calling before he left Fort Portal for Kampala. Father Tom, President of Kings College in Pennsylvania, was sent on an errand of mercy from my brother, President of Elizabethtown College in Pennsylvania. The Golden Jubilee Holy Cross Order mass completed, Father Tom passed on hugs from home, set eyes on us so he could report that we were well, and promised to call before he left. Odd how a touch from home can bring such a blessing…
Corruption to accountability – we run the gamut every day. From construction superintendent Yusef who is the trustworthy needle in the Ugandan haystack of corruption… to the new lorry driver whose workers ingeniously slipped away with 2 bags of cement from Malik. Bob suspecting, Yusef counting, John confirming – all very slick and very normal, although I can’t fathom why it’s worth the risk and effort to sneak off with 2 bags of cement. Let’s see if I can explain…
We know by now to count bags as they are loaded, each one coming on the head of a worker and dumped into the lorry…we also count the bags as they are unloaded at the site, ensuring that money exchanged is equal to product received. As Malik’s workers loaded the bags, Bob and I counted 75 and told them to stop. The workers on the truck said they still needed 2 more…we did not argue, knowing we could recount at Kicuna. The lorry flew up to Kicuna, coating us in dust all the way as we followed behind. On arrival, the CAA construction crew began counting, grabbing and unloading. We reached 75 and there were still 2 bags in the truck. The lorry driver said he would take them back to Malik…Bob wisely said no, leave them here and we will pay for them and get 2 less next time. We unloaded the 2 extra bags, problem resolved, until one of the workers caught a glimpse of 2 bags of cement in the back of the departing truck. Yusef stayed to count what had been unloaded, John gave the second eye witness report that the workers put two bags back in the truck, and Bob will return to Malik’s to pay him for stolen goods and Zed, the lorry driver…well…end of story…
We have stirred the dust on the road to Kicuna more than normal on this particular day. The necessary morning trip for construction consultations and CAA staff meeting coupled with an unusual late day trip to count the cement bags put our Prado at risk more than usual as we did the bump and grind up to Kicuna, dust flying, windows going up and down, and the normal trail of kids racing alongside the car or close behind it. With the mission team on site, demands are much higher as there are more workers and more work which necessitates more deliveries of aggregate, concrete and sand. The building is flying through the foundation stage, team workers are getting dustier and dirtier by the day, and when all is said and done at the end of a week’s work, the building will have some of its foundation and the volunteer laborers will board a plane in Entebbe with aching muscles telling them their work was fruitful.
As we arrived late in the afternoon to oversee the unloading of cement, Mary greeted us as she regally paraded around with a tea tray in hand, sidestepping the cow dung all over the upper field. Just past Mary’s offer of tea, we were greeted not only by construction workers, but by a group of people working on land surveys and registration that she was attempting to make welcome through providing the tea time they were missing at home. With sun setting, dust and smoke clearing from the day and the Rwenzoris appearing with a blazing sky behind them, I finally succumbed to her request to partake, grabbed my china cup and saucer filled with sweet African tea, and plopped down in front of Tukwateho Jesu…Touchdown Jesus. It was an “Out of Africa” moment which pops up periodically at the oddest times – dust and haze, calm and quiet, peace and tranquility, cattle and chickens, mountains looming in the distance, workers laughing and chatting in Rutooro, the breeze gentle and cool, and a moment to ponder the face of Christ and ask what in the world we were doing in Uganda…
I sat still and silent, watching the buzz of activity around me – men with bowed heads clustered together and discussing land boundary issues – bush to the left, tree to the right…workers gregariously hauling cement into the school room where it would be locked away for the night, children coming and going in curiosity of the activity. One young man stood at the mirror by the driver’s side of the lorry, captivated by his image, his head moving back and forth as he primped and preened, just like a bird in a cage. I wondered how long he would be mesmerized, knowing that he rarely has an opportunity to see if he likes the face God gave him. Oddly enough, he lingered only a few moments for his public preening, then sauntered off up the hill, leaving me to wonder if he was happy or sad with what he saw.
Staff issues are on the burner every day, as was evidenced by Florence’s face scrunched up into the Uganda scowl. With heart pounding and passion flaring, she asked if we could recycle two grandmas who had recently lost their US sponsors. Lorraine, a team member from the US, would like to adopt 2 Grandmas for Jesus. She expressed concern that her priority list of most needy to recycle will be shot down and she will be forced to put other grandmas on the program before her well thought out most needy list. Will the board allow her the freedom to choose as she sees necessary…accord her the trust that confirms she is on the ground, in the huts and face to face with those in need? We took a moment to find a board member, posed the questions, fortunately received the encouraging answer, and the Uganda scowl was erased and transformed into a bright smile! Lorraine will meet her grandmas and know firsthand their needs, their rugged and wrinkled faces, their sweet spirits…and Florence will still be smiling next week.
Having left sketchy and hurried instructions with Gladys late in the afternoon on how to prepare a spinach salad for dinner- large pieces of torn spinach and fresh lettuce, chopped hardboiled eggs, sliced onions and croutons - then wait for us to return to fry freshly purchased bacon and create a sweet and sour dressing – we arrived home after the long afternoon to discover… spinach and lettuce cooked down to almost nothing…tasty, but cooked, nonetheless. I reminded myself that home front issues assault us every day – in the form of broken objects, lizards and bugs, and as always, communication which misses the mark. I gently took Gladys’ chin in my hand, turned her face to me and laughed…and explained clearly to her that salad with spinach and lettuce meant “cold” not “hot and cooked”! We threw the chopped hardboiled eggs and croutons into bags and shifted to the refrigerator, fried the bacon with onions and peppers, tossed with leftover spaghetti, and had a far from gourmet but thoroughly delicious dinner. Improvise, improvise, improvise…nothing is what you expect. Keeps life exciting!
And what would a day be without someone’s plea for help? From the local ragged beggar, to the hopeful family member of an Ahadi Kid, to an energetic worker on site, to a stranger walking down the road in Kicuna…we are mzungu, we are wealthy, we are asked. Never far away from us is the needy Ugandan who is seeking a way to pay for school fees, open a small business, or find a way to the United States. The story is always similar as family trees are shared, hard times are revealed, and hopes for the future expressed. Today it was Isaac, both worker and co-church goer, who approached us and asked if we can put a good word in with Christ Aid for Ahadi Kid support. Isaac lives with an elderly father who can no longer help support him, earns money himself on the work site to pay school fees, and is energetic and motivated enough to see that with God’s help, he can form and shape his future. While we cannot make money appear on a tree, and we certainly cannot guarantee a spot as an Ahadi Kid, we can give him a job and pray he can struggle his way through the next year to complete his studies – a man of 25 patiently completing Senior 6.
Add to this very normal day the fact that the US mission team is here…cramming and jostling as much activity into their short visit as possible, hoping to grab a glimpse of life in Uganda for those who are under the curse of poverty and disease. How can you understand in 10 short days? Can the visit make a deep enough impression so that you will have forever imprinted on your mind and heart the painful need, the grieving souls, and the cry for help? Is any amount of time enough to understand what these people have lived through with Amin and AIDS? Can multiple visits to grandmas and Ahadi Kids give you the insight we need to carry close to our hearts the desire to serve and encourage? Do the Ugandan laughter and smiles in the face of their daily challenges put minds at ease and cause visitors to settle into a relaxed position of accepting their challenging lives as normal? Can the mind absorb quickly enough all the years of past history which have shaped this country into the throbbing need and pulsating desire to improve lived out by its people each day? Hope on the horizon is a faint light that we pray grows brighter with more people who come and care to share not only the Gospel of Jesus Christ to fire the spirit, but resources to support the body and mind.
The expected components of most days…people, the project, food, activity, movement, thought, surprise, improvisation, need, problems, prayer…but for some reason woven together in such a fashion that my heart was struck by each incident that brought meaning to January 5th, 2009. As I sat before Tukwateho Jesu and cast a glance at the hazy landscape of Kicuna, my collected thoughts gathered into a single microcosm brimming with the energy of each day as seen through all the varied ingredients…and I shook my head in wonder – only God could manage this day and every day’s work in Uganda. Only God could call and equip…and only God could be at the controls of such diversity woven together into such unity to create a little primary school on the hillside of Kicuna.
First Post of the New Year
** Hi Friends! Sorry I got really behind in posting... I could give a million excuses (or just four- and they are all under four years old!). Enjoy catching up. Tyne**
Whew...busy week...the US Mission Team is in town and our normally busy schedule just got much busier!!! We're doing our best to enjoy their visit by participating in as much as we can...and still keep up with the demands of our daily work for Christ Aid Academy. It's been great to have someone from home here and we can only hope that the 5 months of insights we periodically share with them will bless their visit. I've attached a rather long journal entry - enjoy any portion you have time to read! It reflects a lot of daily activity. Prayer Requests:1. Please pray for the Mission Team - safety and productivity! They are here to do a good work.2. Our upcoming travels at the end of the month and then home to the US on February 10th.3. Continued prayers for resolution to a situation with our car.4. Preparation for the opening of the second year of Christ Aid Academy - and registration of the school with the government.5. We hired a new teacher - Michael - please pray for him as he moves into Primary 3.6. that God will continue to give us His wisdom and discernment as we navigate so many challenging issues7. That Uganda's AIDS population will be well served and that the youth will have their eyes open to the risks and dangers of HIV/AIDS. What can we pray for you? Mukama Abahe OmugisaBob and Linda
Whew...busy week...the US Mission Team is in town and our normally busy schedule just got much busier!!! We're doing our best to enjoy their visit by participating in as much as we can...and still keep up with the demands of our daily work for Christ Aid Academy. It's been great to have someone from home here and we can only hope that the 5 months of insights we periodically share with them will bless their visit. I've attached a rather long journal entry - enjoy any portion you have time to read! It reflects a lot of daily activity. Prayer Requests:1. Please pray for the Mission Team - safety and productivity! They are here to do a good work.2. Our upcoming travels at the end of the month and then home to the US on February 10th.3. Continued prayers for resolution to a situation with our car.4. Preparation for the opening of the second year of Christ Aid Academy - and registration of the school with the government.5. We hired a new teacher - Michael - please pray for him as he moves into Primary 3.6. that God will continue to give us His wisdom and discernment as we navigate so many challenging issues7. That Uganda's AIDS population will be well served and that the youth will have their eyes open to the risks and dangers of HIV/AIDS. What can we pray for you? Mukama Abahe OmugisaBob and Linda
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