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.