**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
Sunday, December 28, 2008
The 2 Days of Christmas
The 2 Days of Christmas
There are by no means 12 Days of Christmas in Uganda…the imagination is even being stretched to say there are a total of 2 Days of Christmas in Uganda. We know this to be true based on the fact that the most evident sign of the recently celebrated holiday season being upon us in Fort Portal was the sight of a canopy hoisted on four poles in front of the Stanbic Bank ATM – put in place just this week to protect the long holiday line of withdrawers of cash from the blazing sun…this is the Stanbic Bank at the major roundabout in Fort Portal, neither of which, bank nor roundabout, had any hint of Christmas “decking of the halls with boughs of holly.” So while the US and other countries are pushing the limits of the season, every year sneaking the Christmas items onto the shelves earlier and earlier, expanding the days to spend, shop and prepare, we experienced the condensed version of Christmas, cramming the season into 2 brief days of holiday cheer.
In all fairness to the Ugandans, there were a few other signs of the holidays that popped up periodically and took us by surprise. Christmas week, the local market expanded up the hill towards town – tiny artificial Christmas trees, maybe 2 feet tall, and long garlands of brightly colored tinsel – all appeared draped on the grassy hillside a few days before the 25th. Gardens, the local restaurant hangout, spent time in the 22nd to hang red and green fabric from their balcony to greet holiday diners… Andrew, the local grocer, stuck a tree in a corner of his store. And even Stanbic, who displayed no visible exterior sign of Christmas, followed suit and boasted a Charlie Brown tree hidden away in a remote corner of the bank.
Waiting on the local butcher to slash away at bloody, fly infested meat at the Smart Butchery Shop in preparation for our meal deliveries, we saw one lone, rather dirty and shabby Santa hat passing by perched on top of a workman covered from head to toe in dirt and dust. And speaking of the butcher and meat, one of my personal favorites of the season…the clusters of villagers everywhere we went, huddled around the carcass of a cow freshly slaughtered for serving holiday diners. Ken delivered a Christmas CD for the house and a cassette for the car – filled with new versions of old favorites. They saved our Christmas spirit from extinction…that and good planning…
We knew “strategic planning” would be a key to success for surviving the holidays away from home. We turned opted to turn down generous invitations to join both American and Ugandan families in sharing Christmas meals and even gift opening, actually wanting to navigate these days with the spirit that the Lord would bring to us…not with the schedule we had committed to. We wanted to know the heart of Christmas from a new perspective, one driven by a desire to know the presence of Christ in all we did. We wanted to be pleasantly surprised or deeply disappointed according to his purposes, not just our own. We wanted to be swept up in the season for all the right reasons and find ourselves spent, challenged, blessed, and touched by our experiences. With much prayer, we charted the course for “the 2 Days of Christmas” and asked God to be with us, guiding and directing our steps, changing plans if necessary and giving us the grace to adjust. We wanted to know Christmas in Uganda, not just our American version of Christmas in Uganda. We cranked up our lone CD and stepped into our 2 Days of Christmas.
We were surprised…by so many generous people who would have gladly opened their homes and huts to us and shared the privacy of their Christmas experience with us – almost total strangers… We were surprised…by Malike, the Indian manager of the hardware store where Bob and Ken purchase materials which turn into the walls and floors of Christ Aid Academy – as he scurried across the street and back, bearing a gift wrapped in sparkling silver, hiding a bottle of French wine recently arrived from Europe via a friend. How could he possibly know we drink wine…and most especially enjoy French wine? How could he know we haven’t had a sip of French wine since we set foot on Ugandan soil? How could he know his gift would be such a treasure to Americans he has barely met?
We were surprised…by Eryaza’s gift of bright orange carrots and a bunch of bananas, brought 7 kilometers into town from Kicuna in a burlap sack which Gladys emptied and immediately returned. As the local Anglican minister and President of the Parents’ Association at Christ Aid Academy, Eryaza lights our fire – we have been in his hut and know he has little to spare since he feeds many mouths…Surprised by an “encoco” (chicken), recently beheaded, plucked, cleaned and roasted for our visit to Innocent’s home. Two weeks earlier we had promised Innocent and his family that we would share g-nuts and tea in their humble hut on Christmas Eve Day. So as we handed off gifts of beef, rice, sugar, oil, bread, sweets and a carton of coke for their festive Christmas dinner, along with all the spare parts Innocent needed to repair his exhausted bicycle, we were treated to not only the promised g-nuts and hot tea, but a surprise of grilled, home-grown chicken. If only Amooti had known that the “surprise bowl” she proudly placed on the table would bring instant fear to Bob, who has sworn off what he believes to be all diseased Ugandan animals, cooked or not…well, she would have saved the tasty morsels of poultry for someone who could more enthusiastically appreciate their exquisite taste.
We were touched…by the gifts placed into our hands after we delivered Christmas food to huts in Kicuna. Our first stop was Amos, my mother’s Ahadi Kid, who lives in a home with 11 cousins and one grandmother whose children are all dead from AIDS. From the moment the “mukaaka” saw us with our moveable feast until the moment we left her hut, her Mukama Asiimwe (praise God) and Mukama Akulinde (God’s blessings) over us did not stop as she clutched my hands in praise and thanksgiving – the gift of faith pouring into my strong body from a weary woman who relies on her Provider more than on her banana plantation. Beatrice’s home was a flurry of activity when we arrived…millet flour being ground by strong, young arms, grandbabies running half-naked in the yard, young women smiling and laughing at our arrival. As we left the Christmas meal on her small table, Beatrice disappeared, quickly to return with 6 fresh eggs in a plastic bag – a giant-sized gift from her family of a dozen or so in response to the smallest of gifts from two Americans who can give more. And on arrival home, we discovered a tattered bag with an original Adolf sculpture inside – a sweet remembrance from the talent who created “Touchdown Jesus” on Christ Aid Academy.
We were disappointed…by Christmas Eve dinner at Fort Motel, a local lodge built by an Irishman who has now sold to a Ugandan…who keeps a high standard of service and quality. We chose to go there out of sheer curiosity – I had eaten lunch previously with the expat wives and boasted of the beef. Whether he believed it or not, Bob was persuaded that this beef would be different than the meat at Smart Butchery Shop – so we ordered steak with the sauce of the evening and were anxious to give ourselves the gift of beef for Christmas. On arrival, all good expectations flew out the window as we were greeted with the news that the menu had changed under the direction of a visiting chef from South Africa, excited to share the newest and best of culinary delights, and many locals had been invited for a Christmas Eve tasting – surprise party for the Isbells! While our mouths were watering all day long for grilled steak, the chef was in her steamy kitchen, enthusiastically preparing Thai fish cakes and chicken satay with peanut sauce…we never let her see our disappointment.
But this abrupt change in plans also brought us another surprise – unexpected dinner company! As Peter escorted us to our choice of tables for the evening and we adjusted our palates to the change in menu, we spotted Edward in the crowd. In a sea of strange faces that we had suddenly been thrown together with to celebrate Christmas Eve, one lone friendly face stood out – the Chancellor of Mountains of the Moon University. We greeted him, then his wife Foebe, then more family home for the holidays from Norway and Kampala, and had a pleasant conversation. Suddenly, they were sitting at our table for four, the young folks off at a table for 30 with lively conversation, and the older quartet settled in for an evening of interesting conversation. How could they know that we were so blessed to have our attention diverted from the sadness of missing loved ones at home to lively conversation peppered with politics, travel, religion, tourism, economy, and of course, the holidays? Bob and I were entranced as Edward and Foebe held court at our table - a continuous stream of what we could only call the Fort Portal “yuppie crowd” filing past to pay homage to the elder statesman and his wife, each introduction only a brief interruption in our delightful evening. We continue to be puzzled as to why they left their family and guests to spend the evening with us – perhaps we were their escape from the high energy of youth. The night flew by in a blaze of conversation and introductions… Day 1 under our belts, touched, surprised, and thankfully exhausted.
We were challenged – as we woke to a Christmas Day in a foreign country, filled with foreign activity! Oddly enough, we were comforted to know that at the same moment we were eating Weetabix cereal with peanut butter (our cook was off for the day), sipping on instant coffee and enjoying our Christmas poinsettia tree, no one in the states was doing a thing – everyone was sound asleep, only dreaming about jumping out of bed for Christmas morning. So while we tearfully prayed for our family and friends and crunched away on our less than holiday-worthy breakfast, you were all asleep – and we congratulated ourselves that we weren’t really “missing” anything at the moment since you weren’t really “doing” anything at the moment.
Obviously we were disappointed…in our breakfast! Good grief, anyone would have been disappointed! When you are supposed to be indulging in all sorts of wonderful treats you may eat only once a year, it was a little sad to be munching a piece of Weetabix cardboard, even though it was topped with peanut butter. We were disappointed that we had not sung “Silent Night” as Christmas Eve candles flickered in our hands, that we would not be roasting a turkey or glazing a ham, that we would not be hugging and laughing with family. We were disappointed that there was no noise in our house…no patter of feet, no squeals of delight over opening presents, no hugs and pictures and more hugs and more pictures…no activity. Silence…
We were blessed… however…because for the first time in our lives, we had time on Christmas morning to ponder and reflect instead of shift into high-stress reflex mode to manage the explosion of morning activity. No distractions tempted us to break away from discussing “How Great is Our God”, a video we had watched Christmas Eve at church. We stood in awe of God who spoke and breathed all creation into existence, then planted himself right smack dab in the middle of the mess of humanity. We sat, we prayed, we gave thanks…for the sheer wonder of it all.
We were not disappointed…that Notre Dame won their bowl game! Especially since Linda had picked them to win in her bowl selections – unlike Bob who turned traitor and went with Hawaii.
We were blessed… to be in the right place…Christmas Day services in the village church in Kicuna. Packed to overflowing, little girls prancing in and out in taffeta and crinoline party dresses, little boys with lace-up shoes and ties, casting off those same shoes when they could stand them no more, beautiful young mothers with jeweled shawls and colorful dresses, grandmothers with heads bound in strips of local fabric of a 100 colors, elders in celebrative robes. Having been in a shepherd’s cave in Israel which could have been the birthplace of Christ, Bob and I knew we would never come closer to experiencing the surroundings of his birth than here in this church – cows mooing, chickens squawking, babies crying, the odor of cow dung and human sweat difficult to inhale. There were no Christmas carols, no beautiful accompaniment from fine-tuned instruments, no Christmas tree… no magnificence of any kind. Only a simple grandeur of peasant worshipers, gathered on frail wooden benches under wooden beams decorated with celebrative vines and flowers, giving a moment of their difficult lives filled with toil, fatigue and early death to honor their King. We arrived late to avoid causing the normal commotion which mzungus bring along with them…we left early to avoid the same. We were the privileged outsiders, allowed in the door for just a moment to partake of a true sense of worship of our King.
We were blessed… to be in the right place…right here in Fort Portal, wrapped in the loving arms of the missionary families whose solitary goal in life is to heed the call and serve God. Magic chefs and mysterious kitchens produced a buffet which was a feast for the eyes and the stomachs longing for a touch of home – pies of every sort – blueberry, chocolate, lemon, apple - cinnamon rolls with gooey icing, quesadillas with guacamole, sweet and sour meatballs, pickles (a rarity here). And from our own kitchen which was a food factory on Christmas Eve Day, 7 layer dip Ugandan style…translates to 4 layer dip which is all the ingredients you can get your hands on, along with chapatti chips. No convenient cans in this kitchen – Gladys makes refried beans, salsa and chapatti chips from scratch, so 7 layer dip takes about…7 hours to concoct! Cook the beans, flavor the beans, mash the beans, spread the beans - cook the tomatoes, add the peppers, onion, garlic and hot sauce - make the chapatti dough, cook the chapatti, cut the chapatti into triangles, fry the triangles, salt the triangles…yep, 7 hours at the very least.
We were grateful…that the squeals of delight we missed in the states from our own grandchildren were everywhere around us when the 16 missionary children opened the gifts they exchange. 5000ugx is the limit…but $2.50 goes a long way here – shorts, t-shirts, dresses, games – the room was a beehive of kids running to show and share and thank. Four hours of English conversation you can easily understand, four hours of feeling totally at home because the culture around you isn’t strange, four hours of sharing emotions that make sense to the person you are talking to, four hours of eating what you miss from home, and four hours of mutual encouragement as an Aaron to a Moses – each one of us hoping to be able to prop up someone else’s ministry with our words of faith, understanding and hope.
We were thankful…to do Skype with the grandkids, talk to our sons and daughter-in-law, family in Pennsylvania and Colorado. Our family celebreated the birth of our Savior in Colorado, Texas, Louisiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Denmark and Uganda. We used the phone to text and call, the computer to chat and Skype, and celebrated Christmas in four different time zones. We talked presents and menus, mass and music, grandbabies and nieces. We were almost there… hearing familiar voices, seeing loved faces, laughing, sharing, oohing and ahing over treasured presents so proudly held up in front of the webcam by little hands.
We were overwhelmed at God’s provision…just for the two of us, tucked in a remote corner of Uganda, in the big continent of Africa, away from all we hold dear, over the “2 Days of Christmas”. Amazed that we didn’t collapse into a puddle of tears or drag dreary spirits through the days. Encouraged that this life so far away from the land of familiar presented its own moments of holiday cheer and charm. Grateful that hearts are one even when celebrations are separated. Captivated by the goodness of our God…that He delivers his gift of salvation in Jesus Christ to every corner of the world and can find any one of us, no matter where we are, to bring us great joy. Our “2 Days of Christmas” surprised us, disappointed us, delighted us, challenged us, and swept us up in the arms of our Great God. We are still here, hearts strangely warmed and spirits focused on the New Year.
There are by no means 12 Days of Christmas in Uganda…the imagination is even being stretched to say there are a total of 2 Days of Christmas in Uganda. We know this to be true based on the fact that the most evident sign of the recently celebrated holiday season being upon us in Fort Portal was the sight of a canopy hoisted on four poles in front of the Stanbic Bank ATM – put in place just this week to protect the long holiday line of withdrawers of cash from the blazing sun…this is the Stanbic Bank at the major roundabout in Fort Portal, neither of which, bank nor roundabout, had any hint of Christmas “decking of the halls with boughs of holly.” So while the US and other countries are pushing the limits of the season, every year sneaking the Christmas items onto the shelves earlier and earlier, expanding the days to spend, shop and prepare, we experienced the condensed version of Christmas, cramming the season into 2 brief days of holiday cheer.
In all fairness to the Ugandans, there were a few other signs of the holidays that popped up periodically and took us by surprise. Christmas week, the local market expanded up the hill towards town – tiny artificial Christmas trees, maybe 2 feet tall, and long garlands of brightly colored tinsel – all appeared draped on the grassy hillside a few days before the 25th. Gardens, the local restaurant hangout, spent time in the 22nd to hang red and green fabric from their balcony to greet holiday diners… Andrew, the local grocer, stuck a tree in a corner of his store. And even Stanbic, who displayed no visible exterior sign of Christmas, followed suit and boasted a Charlie Brown tree hidden away in a remote corner of the bank.
Waiting on the local butcher to slash away at bloody, fly infested meat at the Smart Butchery Shop in preparation for our meal deliveries, we saw one lone, rather dirty and shabby Santa hat passing by perched on top of a workman covered from head to toe in dirt and dust. And speaking of the butcher and meat, one of my personal favorites of the season…the clusters of villagers everywhere we went, huddled around the carcass of a cow freshly slaughtered for serving holiday diners. Ken delivered a Christmas CD for the house and a cassette for the car – filled with new versions of old favorites. They saved our Christmas spirit from extinction…that and good planning…
We knew “strategic planning” would be a key to success for surviving the holidays away from home. We turned opted to turn down generous invitations to join both American and Ugandan families in sharing Christmas meals and even gift opening, actually wanting to navigate these days with the spirit that the Lord would bring to us…not with the schedule we had committed to. We wanted to know the heart of Christmas from a new perspective, one driven by a desire to know the presence of Christ in all we did. We wanted to be pleasantly surprised or deeply disappointed according to his purposes, not just our own. We wanted to be swept up in the season for all the right reasons and find ourselves spent, challenged, blessed, and touched by our experiences. With much prayer, we charted the course for “the 2 Days of Christmas” and asked God to be with us, guiding and directing our steps, changing plans if necessary and giving us the grace to adjust. We wanted to know Christmas in Uganda, not just our American version of Christmas in Uganda. We cranked up our lone CD and stepped into our 2 Days of Christmas.
We were surprised…by so many generous people who would have gladly opened their homes and huts to us and shared the privacy of their Christmas experience with us – almost total strangers… We were surprised…by Malike, the Indian manager of the hardware store where Bob and Ken purchase materials which turn into the walls and floors of Christ Aid Academy – as he scurried across the street and back, bearing a gift wrapped in sparkling silver, hiding a bottle of French wine recently arrived from Europe via a friend. How could he possibly know we drink wine…and most especially enjoy French wine? How could he know we haven’t had a sip of French wine since we set foot on Ugandan soil? How could he know his gift would be such a treasure to Americans he has barely met?
We were surprised…by Eryaza’s gift of bright orange carrots and a bunch of bananas, brought 7 kilometers into town from Kicuna in a burlap sack which Gladys emptied and immediately returned. As the local Anglican minister and President of the Parents’ Association at Christ Aid Academy, Eryaza lights our fire – we have been in his hut and know he has little to spare since he feeds many mouths…Surprised by an “encoco” (chicken), recently beheaded, plucked, cleaned and roasted for our visit to Innocent’s home. Two weeks earlier we had promised Innocent and his family that we would share g-nuts and tea in their humble hut on Christmas Eve Day. So as we handed off gifts of beef, rice, sugar, oil, bread, sweets and a carton of coke for their festive Christmas dinner, along with all the spare parts Innocent needed to repair his exhausted bicycle, we were treated to not only the promised g-nuts and hot tea, but a surprise of grilled, home-grown chicken. If only Amooti had known that the “surprise bowl” she proudly placed on the table would bring instant fear to Bob, who has sworn off what he believes to be all diseased Ugandan animals, cooked or not…well, she would have saved the tasty morsels of poultry for someone who could more enthusiastically appreciate their exquisite taste.
We were touched…by the gifts placed into our hands after we delivered Christmas food to huts in Kicuna. Our first stop was Amos, my mother’s Ahadi Kid, who lives in a home with 11 cousins and one grandmother whose children are all dead from AIDS. From the moment the “mukaaka” saw us with our moveable feast until the moment we left her hut, her Mukama Asiimwe (praise God) and Mukama Akulinde (God’s blessings) over us did not stop as she clutched my hands in praise and thanksgiving – the gift of faith pouring into my strong body from a weary woman who relies on her Provider more than on her banana plantation. Beatrice’s home was a flurry of activity when we arrived…millet flour being ground by strong, young arms, grandbabies running half-naked in the yard, young women smiling and laughing at our arrival. As we left the Christmas meal on her small table, Beatrice disappeared, quickly to return with 6 fresh eggs in a plastic bag – a giant-sized gift from her family of a dozen or so in response to the smallest of gifts from two Americans who can give more. And on arrival home, we discovered a tattered bag with an original Adolf sculpture inside – a sweet remembrance from the talent who created “Touchdown Jesus” on Christ Aid Academy.
We were disappointed…by Christmas Eve dinner at Fort Motel, a local lodge built by an Irishman who has now sold to a Ugandan…who keeps a high standard of service and quality. We chose to go there out of sheer curiosity – I had eaten lunch previously with the expat wives and boasted of the beef. Whether he believed it or not, Bob was persuaded that this beef would be different than the meat at Smart Butchery Shop – so we ordered steak with the sauce of the evening and were anxious to give ourselves the gift of beef for Christmas. On arrival, all good expectations flew out the window as we were greeted with the news that the menu had changed under the direction of a visiting chef from South Africa, excited to share the newest and best of culinary delights, and many locals had been invited for a Christmas Eve tasting – surprise party for the Isbells! While our mouths were watering all day long for grilled steak, the chef was in her steamy kitchen, enthusiastically preparing Thai fish cakes and chicken satay with peanut sauce…we never let her see our disappointment.
But this abrupt change in plans also brought us another surprise – unexpected dinner company! As Peter escorted us to our choice of tables for the evening and we adjusted our palates to the change in menu, we spotted Edward in the crowd. In a sea of strange faces that we had suddenly been thrown together with to celebrate Christmas Eve, one lone friendly face stood out – the Chancellor of Mountains of the Moon University. We greeted him, then his wife Foebe, then more family home for the holidays from Norway and Kampala, and had a pleasant conversation. Suddenly, they were sitting at our table for four, the young folks off at a table for 30 with lively conversation, and the older quartet settled in for an evening of interesting conversation. How could they know that we were so blessed to have our attention diverted from the sadness of missing loved ones at home to lively conversation peppered with politics, travel, religion, tourism, economy, and of course, the holidays? Bob and I were entranced as Edward and Foebe held court at our table - a continuous stream of what we could only call the Fort Portal “yuppie crowd” filing past to pay homage to the elder statesman and his wife, each introduction only a brief interruption in our delightful evening. We continue to be puzzled as to why they left their family and guests to spend the evening with us – perhaps we were their escape from the high energy of youth. The night flew by in a blaze of conversation and introductions… Day 1 under our belts, touched, surprised, and thankfully exhausted.
We were challenged – as we woke to a Christmas Day in a foreign country, filled with foreign activity! Oddly enough, we were comforted to know that at the same moment we were eating Weetabix cereal with peanut butter (our cook was off for the day), sipping on instant coffee and enjoying our Christmas poinsettia tree, no one in the states was doing a thing – everyone was sound asleep, only dreaming about jumping out of bed for Christmas morning. So while we tearfully prayed for our family and friends and crunched away on our less than holiday-worthy breakfast, you were all asleep – and we congratulated ourselves that we weren’t really “missing” anything at the moment since you weren’t really “doing” anything at the moment.
Obviously we were disappointed…in our breakfast! Good grief, anyone would have been disappointed! When you are supposed to be indulging in all sorts of wonderful treats you may eat only once a year, it was a little sad to be munching a piece of Weetabix cardboard, even though it was topped with peanut butter. We were disappointed that we had not sung “Silent Night” as Christmas Eve candles flickered in our hands, that we would not be roasting a turkey or glazing a ham, that we would not be hugging and laughing with family. We were disappointed that there was no noise in our house…no patter of feet, no squeals of delight over opening presents, no hugs and pictures and more hugs and more pictures…no activity. Silence…
We were blessed… however…because for the first time in our lives, we had time on Christmas morning to ponder and reflect instead of shift into high-stress reflex mode to manage the explosion of morning activity. No distractions tempted us to break away from discussing “How Great is Our God”, a video we had watched Christmas Eve at church. We stood in awe of God who spoke and breathed all creation into existence, then planted himself right smack dab in the middle of the mess of humanity. We sat, we prayed, we gave thanks…for the sheer wonder of it all.
We were not disappointed…that Notre Dame won their bowl game! Especially since Linda had picked them to win in her bowl selections – unlike Bob who turned traitor and went with Hawaii.
We were blessed… to be in the right place…Christmas Day services in the village church in Kicuna. Packed to overflowing, little girls prancing in and out in taffeta and crinoline party dresses, little boys with lace-up shoes and ties, casting off those same shoes when they could stand them no more, beautiful young mothers with jeweled shawls and colorful dresses, grandmothers with heads bound in strips of local fabric of a 100 colors, elders in celebrative robes. Having been in a shepherd’s cave in Israel which could have been the birthplace of Christ, Bob and I knew we would never come closer to experiencing the surroundings of his birth than here in this church – cows mooing, chickens squawking, babies crying, the odor of cow dung and human sweat difficult to inhale. There were no Christmas carols, no beautiful accompaniment from fine-tuned instruments, no Christmas tree… no magnificence of any kind. Only a simple grandeur of peasant worshipers, gathered on frail wooden benches under wooden beams decorated with celebrative vines and flowers, giving a moment of their difficult lives filled with toil, fatigue and early death to honor their King. We arrived late to avoid causing the normal commotion which mzungus bring along with them…we left early to avoid the same. We were the privileged outsiders, allowed in the door for just a moment to partake of a true sense of worship of our King.
We were blessed… to be in the right place…right here in Fort Portal, wrapped in the loving arms of the missionary families whose solitary goal in life is to heed the call and serve God. Magic chefs and mysterious kitchens produced a buffet which was a feast for the eyes and the stomachs longing for a touch of home – pies of every sort – blueberry, chocolate, lemon, apple - cinnamon rolls with gooey icing, quesadillas with guacamole, sweet and sour meatballs, pickles (a rarity here). And from our own kitchen which was a food factory on Christmas Eve Day, 7 layer dip Ugandan style…translates to 4 layer dip which is all the ingredients you can get your hands on, along with chapatti chips. No convenient cans in this kitchen – Gladys makes refried beans, salsa and chapatti chips from scratch, so 7 layer dip takes about…7 hours to concoct! Cook the beans, flavor the beans, mash the beans, spread the beans - cook the tomatoes, add the peppers, onion, garlic and hot sauce - make the chapatti dough, cook the chapatti, cut the chapatti into triangles, fry the triangles, salt the triangles…yep, 7 hours at the very least.
We were grateful…that the squeals of delight we missed in the states from our own grandchildren were everywhere around us when the 16 missionary children opened the gifts they exchange. 5000ugx is the limit…but $2.50 goes a long way here – shorts, t-shirts, dresses, games – the room was a beehive of kids running to show and share and thank. Four hours of English conversation you can easily understand, four hours of feeling totally at home because the culture around you isn’t strange, four hours of sharing emotions that make sense to the person you are talking to, four hours of eating what you miss from home, and four hours of mutual encouragement as an Aaron to a Moses – each one of us hoping to be able to prop up someone else’s ministry with our words of faith, understanding and hope.
We were thankful…to do Skype with the grandkids, talk to our sons and daughter-in-law, family in Pennsylvania and Colorado. Our family celebreated the birth of our Savior in Colorado, Texas, Louisiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Denmark and Uganda. We used the phone to text and call, the computer to chat and Skype, and celebrated Christmas in four different time zones. We talked presents and menus, mass and music, grandbabies and nieces. We were almost there… hearing familiar voices, seeing loved faces, laughing, sharing, oohing and ahing over treasured presents so proudly held up in front of the webcam by little hands.
We were overwhelmed at God’s provision…just for the two of us, tucked in a remote corner of Uganda, in the big continent of Africa, away from all we hold dear, over the “2 Days of Christmas”. Amazed that we didn’t collapse into a puddle of tears or drag dreary spirits through the days. Encouraged that this life so far away from the land of familiar presented its own moments of holiday cheer and charm. Grateful that hearts are one even when celebrations are separated. Captivated by the goodness of our God…that He delivers his gift of salvation in Jesus Christ to every corner of the world and can find any one of us, no matter where we are, to bring us great joy. Our “2 Days of Christmas” surprised us, disappointed us, delighted us, challenged us, and swept us up in the arms of our Great God. We are still here, hearts strangely warmed and spirits focused on the New Year.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas to all of you!
Our update and prayer requests come wrapped in our brief Christmas letter and attached photo of "Touchdown Jesus", recently painted on the side of Christ Aid Academy.
We can imagine how busy everyone is with travel, family and friend schedules, worship services, last minute shopping, and probably a day or two of skiing on great snow...so when you have time, enjoy what we've sent.
Prayer Requests:
1. A blessed Christmas season for all you/we know and love - especially in light of the effect the economic conditions will have on so many families. It is common here in Uganda to have very little in material possessions, if anything, for Christmas. Always a good reminder to keep our eyes focused on God, the provider.
2. Travel mercies for the Christ Aid January mission team - they depart the US on December 29th. Also, that through them, God would accomplish all His perfect will desires while they are here.
3. Hearts to serve...for anyone you want to pray for!
4. God's choice for a new teacher for Christ Aid Academy - still not selected
5. Always, always, always that loving God and loving his people, wherever and whoever they are, would be above all other personal desires.
6. Safety, efficiency and commitment for all the construction workers who are beginning on the pit latrine and soon on Building II at Christ Aid Academy.
7. God's blessings on so many who continue to support the school project in Kicuna in so many ways.
Merry Christmas - love to you all - thanks for your prayers which sustain us. Into the New Year!
Bob and Linda
Sleighbells ring, are you listenin', in the lane snow is glistenin'…
Everyone back home has snuggled in for the long winter, braced for the snow and ice, bought ski passes, lugged out the boots, blown out the pipes, and turned on the gas fireplaces…We can smell the buttery microwave popcorn, taste the steamy hot chocolate, and look over your shoulder at the list of bowl games you'll watch during the holidays. We can imagine the calendar marked with celebrative gatherings and hear Manheim Steamroller on your CD player. We can feel the nip at your nose as you tromp out in the forest to cut the perfect Christmas tree, listen to your family chatter as they gather to decorate, then watch you relax late in the evening as all your lights twinkle brightly on your tree as snow quietly falls outside… stockings hung by the chimney with care…holiday treats in the oven, the fragrance of cinnamon and nutmeg mixing with pine. We are there with you in spirit…
"A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight, walking in a winter wonderland"…well, not exactly. Let us welcome you to Christmas, Uganda style! Snuggle is not a word that exists over here – not when it's a balmy 80 degrees every day. Dragging out the boots? It's a matter of what color of flip-flops you want to wear. Sipping hot chocolate? Ugandans sip on bottled coke with a straw to celebrate Christmas. Bowl games? We'll be checking NCAAsports.com. to see if Linda outwits Bob in her picks. Festive gatherings? The expat celebration is the happening place on Christmas afternoon at 3:00. Christmas tree? We have a blazing red poinsettia tree in our tropical back yard that will serve quite nicely as our Christmas tree this year. Decorations and all those cute twinkly lights? You wouldn't know it is Christmas if you didn't have a calendar.
So while we may be missing family, friends and just good ole' home this Christmas, there is one blessing we have this year which we have never had before…the opportunity to prove to ourselves that Christmas really is in the heart and not under the tree. Our Christmas is stripped down to its barest bones…so instead of being swept away with the festivities, the schedule, the shopping, the decorations, we are asking God to make good use of this Christmas to sweep us away with the Good News that God would care enough to become a baby and join us here on earth. We want to stand in awe before our Creator and simply marvel at his love, his generosity, and his yearning to bring us home through his Son, Jesus Christ…such deep yearning that through his Son, He chose to set aside his omnipotent power which called the vast galaxies into existence, and humbly take on our nature… so we could know His. And what we all share together, no matter where we are…
"Joy to the world, the Lord is come. Let earth receive her King." Not let the USA or Uganda receive her King, but the earth…the entire earth. Let every person in every land bend a knee to receive Jesus Christ as King over all. You may be crunching through the snow…we may be flip-flopping through the dusty roads, but all of us will be celebrating the love God has shown for us in sending His Son to walk among us. You may be gathered together with family and friends…we may be sitting in a hut on a hillside in Kicuna, but all of us will be rejoicing that our Savior comes to make us new every day as he blesses us with the gift of eternal life in his Son, Jesus Christ.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Email, 12/05/08
An emotional week for us in many ways - end of Term 3 at Christ Aid Academy, beginning of that pesky month of December and Christmas holidays when we won't be with family, news that we needed to pray for a friend's endangered pregnancy, and all the normal that life brings at you wherever you live. We pray you have been well and celebrated a joyous Thanksgiving.
Our camera is broken...so pictures will come when we have had an opportunity to use someone else's camera, download here and then send. But we have attached a journal entry from this week's end of term at Christ Aid Academy...enjoy.
Prayer Requests...
1. we interview next week for teachers for CAA - new teacher
2. Mission Team from Denver who arrives this month - much planning and coordination of effort
3. protection over students for the next 2 months as we are apart
4. God's provision for all needs for Christ Aid Academy
5. God's provision for all who are needy
6. Thanksgiving for so many who are helping the school through fundraisers, Christmas gifts, personal support. We're off to a dinner at Calvary Chapel where members share what God is doing in their lives - we're anticipating great accounts!
God bless,
Bob and Linda
Our camera is broken...so pictures will come when we have had an opportunity to use someone else's camera, download here and then send. But we have attached a journal entry from this week's end of term at Christ Aid Academy...enjoy.
Prayer Requests...
1. we interview next week for teachers for CAA - new teacher
2. Mission Team from Denver who arrives this month - much planning and coordination of effort
3. protection over students for the next 2 months as we are apart
4. God's provision for all needs for Christ Aid Academy
5. God's provision for all who are needy
6. Thanksgiving for so many who are helping the school through fundraisers, Christmas gifts, personal support. We're off to a dinner at Calvary Chapel where members share what God is doing in their lives - we're anticipating great accounts!
God bless,
Bob and Linda
Friday, November 28, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving!
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you!
We have already pounded on turkey and dressing, gravy, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie with all the other expats - a wild and crazy dinner with forty of us gathered around 3 tables set with mammoth bowls overflowing with way too much of everything.
It was a bit strange to be looking out at tea plantations, which is the setting for the home we were in. And talk revolved around American football and trips into Congo to mediate between two tribes - a little difficult to emotionally land in one spot with American meal, Ugandan setting, mission talk and American football...don't know if we have enough tracks in our brain to handle it all.
Anyway...we are praying a blessed Thanksgiving for all of you as you celebrate with family and friends. Our hearts are full of thoughts about what it means to be thankful to God for all we have, especially in the midst of constant reminders of meager provisions. We were in a grandma's hut this morning, sharing the experience with some friends from Seattle who are serving in Kampala with Sports Outreach. We went from mud and sticks and a floor covered in cow dung to our Thanksgiving feast - we are American and have privileges. We can only be grateful, and then ask, "How can we help?"
Love to all of you,
Bob and Linda
We have already pounded on turkey and dressing, gravy, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie with all the other expats - a wild and crazy dinner with forty of us gathered around 3 tables set with mammoth bowls overflowing with way too much of everything.
It was a bit strange to be looking out at tea plantations, which is the setting for the home we were in. And talk revolved around American football and trips into Congo to mediate between two tribes - a little difficult to emotionally land in one spot with American meal, Ugandan setting, mission talk and American football...don't know if we have enough tracks in our brain to handle it all.
Anyway...we are praying a blessed Thanksgiving for all of you as you celebrate with family and friends. Our hearts are full of thoughts about what it means to be thankful to God for all we have, especially in the midst of constant reminders of meager provisions. We were in a grandma's hut this morning, sharing the experience with some friends from Seattle who are serving in Kampala with Sports Outreach. We went from mud and sticks and a floor covered in cow dung to our Thanksgiving feast - we are American and have privileges. We can only be grateful, and then ask, "How can we help?"
Love to all of you,
Bob and Linda
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Christ Aid Academy Building I- Complete!
We inspected the building today, made the final payment (have one little gutter issue we will resolve tomorrow) and Christ Aid Academy Building I is completed (except for the painting work the mission team will do in January).
Well, anyway, it is really finished except for the finishing touches and everyone is very excited...especially Mighty Construction since they received their final payment today. Many thanks for all you have done to give us the opportunity to be here to help the village of Kicuna and Christ Aid Academy get to this point - upward and onward with Building II, pit latrine, offices, soccer field!!!
We are truly giving thanks today...and this week for God's great hand of provision for our country which makes it possible to share with others in need.
Mukama Akuhe Omugiisa
Bob and Linda
Friday, November 14, 2008
Email November 5, 2008
Sorry this is late getting up... I have had super sick kids for the last couple weeks! tyne
Well, big day in the US. We jumped up this AM, turned on the computer and got the news about Obama. Went straight to my prayer journal and wrote a prayer for the country and the president-elect. We tried to explain to a Ugandan today that while the Americans who voted for Obama would be rejoicing, even people who wanted McCain in office would continue to pray for Barack Obama as our leader.
Our contractor for the project said that the CNN from Europe was focusing on how surprised the world is that America would actually elect an African-American as president. We told him how surprised we were that the world thought that racial issues would ultimately decide the election - that Americans look for the best candidate, and despite the fact that racism is unfortunately alive and well, the majority of Americans are not basing their vote on race. So in whatever spirits this finds you on post-election day, we are all called to lift up our future leader in prayer. As we live away from all the press and the hype and emotion of our election, and in the midst of a small African nation struggling to embrace and fulfill the promise of democracy, we are simply grateful that we are American.
We have attached a photo from our Christ Aid Academy chapel today - so incredibly uplifting that I wish we had made a video recording of Moses playing his guitar and the kids rocking out to "Jesus lives". We most often attend Calvary Chapel where Moses is the P and W leader. We asked him to come do a music chapel for us - and was he ever a hit! Most of the students had never seen a guitar...just take that one in and digest. But as soon as they caught on to what he was doing, they were clapping and dancing to beat the band. He explained to them how he made his first guitar when he was a small village boy - and the kids were captivated, watching every detail of his explanation as he showed them a gerry can, how he cut a hole in it, then attached a stick and some wires for strings and started playing. we can only imagine that the huts of Kicuna will be ringing with homemade guitar music tonight and in the near future. We wonder what little seeds he planted for future musicians????
Our only prayer request this week from all of you is for the other Americans who live in Fort Portal and do ministry here. The journal entry is a slice of their lives and a look at sacrifice and reward in the mission field. Truly these people have been especially equipped by God - so when you think to pray for us and the CAA project, please remember them, as well: Bob and Jennifer Chedester - World Harvest, Hope Primary School, Bundibugyo MissionCheryl and Jeff Cash - New Testament Church of Christ, Fort Portal and soon to be DRC missionaries via the airAmy and Andrew Martin - New Testament Church of ChristIsaac and Clea Wooten, Connie- Calvary Chapel Bible SchoolDoug and Destiny Calhoun - Calvary ChapelBrandi and Lew Johnson - Baptist World MissionsCarol Adams - private orphanage and sponsorship for school fees. There are a few others - but mostly on very short-term basis for 3-9 months.
Tyne Evans White is keeping our blog updated at http://www.isbellinuganda.blogspot.com/ - many thanks to her!
Mukama Abahe Omugiisa
Bob and Linda
Journal Entry- You Did Not Choose Me
“You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit…fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. “
John 15: 16
Bob and I walk in the back door of Brandi and Lew’s home in Boma, the hill which originally was home to the British as they colonized Fortportal Town, and still is home to many mzungus living here. Bob is bearing the gift of lunch, fish and chips, and I am bearing a simple gift – all to celebrate Brandi’s departure to Nairobi. She and Lew are expecting their second child and she will deliver in Aga Khan Hospital, the medical facility which presently boasts the best reputation in East Africa. She will spend the next two weeks to a month – December 6 her delivery date – in a guesthouse/hotel, sharing a living/dining/kitchen facility with other Baptist missionaries, and sharing her own bed with her 18 month old daughter, Elizabeth. Lew will go only so far as the Entebbe airport, kiss his wife and daughter goodbye, put them on the 540 plane to Kenya and pray the appropriate entourage is at the Nairobi Airport to escort Brandi and Elizabeth to the guesthouse. He will follow in the car along the 15 hours of road to Nairobi on November 20th, 2 weeks later. We will do our best to keep Lew occupied during his family’s absence – he and Bob take weekly hikes into the back country around Fort Portal and we can always share a meal.
Brandi’s mother and father wait at home in the states for news of the new grandchild. They are camp parents at a Christian camp in Arkansas and have no extra funds to spend on the $5000 trip to Nairobi. At lunch today, Brandi receives gifts of lotions and soaps to help her feel pampered, but as she opens she is reminded that with Elizabeth’s delivery, her mother was with her, rubbing her feet, her back, braiding her long dark hair, and tending to the needs of a woman nearing delivery. This time, Brandi will need to be tending to the needs of Elizabeth as she scurries around the small quarters, with no help from Lew and no way to leave the compound for fear of going into an early labor. She has already been sequestered at her home in Fort Portal, patiently passing the days cooking, cleaning and playing with Elizabeth. But in Nairobi, nothing and no one except her physician will be familiar and each day will pass slowly with few distractions. Certainly she will find time to pray for Lew who will be home ministering to the boda boda drivers and the Baptist ministers in the area whom he is discipling. As we leave today she hands us small items we may be able to use in her absence so they do not go to waste – no one wastes anything here.
Destiny shares the latest dilemma that she and Doug are facing…which is not to say that this is their first. Not only are they in the throws of registering Calvary Chapel as a legitimate NGO in Fort Portal and fighting the continuous battles with the authorities, nor are they simply faced with the threat of going to court to battle the father of a young girl who ran in front of Doug’s car on the road to Kampala and had to have stitches. Doug is innocent of any negligence, many witnesses attest, but the father continues to use every deception he can to get money out of the Calhouns for his own benefit, not for any medical treatments for his daughter which Doug and Destiny have already paid. The stories of both issues are long, twisted and difficult to explain, but now, on top of these issues, they are working through how to best minister to their cook and nanny who is unmarried and pregnant. Compassion, mercy, grace, integrity, trust, truth, forgiveness, repentance, restoration – they all march before them as they work to sort out all their challenges in their ministry to the people of Fort Portal.
Bob and I leave the Johnson’s home, filled with food, laughter, encouraging conversation and sweet prayer time for Brandi and the new baby, run Destiny home and head to the Wootens. We have promised Connie that we will check on her as she babysits her 4 grandchildren while Isaac and Clea are in Kampala hunting for a new stove (we all hunt for new stoves on occasion). Connie is a youthful 62, full of energy and passion for life. She is somewhat of a free spirit, embracing new experiences like an eager child. Her role in the Wooten household is not only loving grandmother to her daughter’s children, but homeschool teacher to all four of them. Connie and I have committed to Friday afternoon tea as an opportunity for her to weekly reclaim her 62 year old self that she willingly sacrifices all week long for her family. We spend 2 solid hours sipping dark African coffee, letting the rains fall beyond the shelter of the Mountains of the Moon verandah, and chatting about adult topics of faith and politics.
The Wootens have recently moved here from Kenya where they helped run a school. Connie has other state-side children, but committed to help Isaac and Clea in their ministry in Africa as long as they needed her loving arms and educated mind. Isaac grew up in Israel where his parents were missionaries in the shadow of the temple mount in Jerusalem. If he goes back to Israel, he will be called into the military to serve as he is a citizen by birth. His parents now live in Kenya, having taken over the work that Isaac and Clea just left. He understands missions, and despite the fact that he has just completed his doctorate in engineering and could earn a 6 figure salary in the states, he, Clea and their four children ages 4 and under have landed in Fort Portal, Uganda to serve God.
Connie shows us through the house, filled with the scent of onion and garlic, so commonly used in most dishes here. They arrived with no furniture, so the brightly colored floral chairs and sofa in the living area are small gifts the generous landlord left for them to use. The dining room is filled with plastic table and chairs normally used for outdoor dining, but here, the obvious inexpensive choice for a family of 7. The kitchen is bright and cheery, painted a pale yellow and white. An enormous window above the narrow countertops looks out to the back yard. The familiar 2-burner butane stove sits atop the counter, firing up the pressure cooker of vegetable soup, the heavenly source of the onion and garlic which greeted us at the front door. A small sink and an office-sized refrigerator complete the necessary equipment to produce daily meals. There is no laundry room, which most mzungu homes have recently acquired. Susan and Fred, the help who came with the Wootens from Kenya, wash everything by hand. Even with 11 people on the compound, we’re sure there is not much laundry.
Each of the 4 bedrooms in the house is reminiscent of a convent or monastery – a bed to hold the room’s occupants and a small side table with no lamp. Thin drapes cover the windows and blow in the gentle breeze that the afternoon rain has brought. There are no screens on the windows and no mosquito nets over the beds. One of the bedrooms also serves as the “one house school room” where Connie spends part of the day teaching reading, math, science and social studies to Nehemiah, Elijah, Ezekiel and Hosannah. She doesn’t brag on them in vain, as Nehemiah reads off the story of the moths that make baskets from twigs they gather. So while we look through their house in awe of how little they have in material possessions and consider what they could have in the United States, we pray for God to doubly bless them in any way possible for the choices they make to serve God overseas.
Add to these three families the young Andrew and Amy with their 15 month old daughter and a son on the way in January, a family of 6 who hale from Texas and Oregon, and a family of 7 who have adopted 2 American and 3 Ugandan children. Each one has humorous and not so humorous tales to tell of the mountains of trouble they have climbed to minister here – angry and corrupt Ugandans, people yelling in their faces that they should go back to the United States, threats of physical harm, church members who turn their backs on years of ministry and walk away to follow other gods. The list of what could undo any one of us on an average day is endless – and they take it all in stride, pray for God’s guidance and discernment, and keep their faces pointed to the prize ahead. They rejoice over the relationships which are blessed and pray over the relationships which struggle. When they hit walls, they go to God in desperate prayer to find the answer – and here are some of the results…
-Brandi and Lew are investing money in printing a book of the Bible in stories – a simple way to minister to the uneducated or minimally educated who are not able to read sophisticated English. It may be 2 months before they are home from Kenya due to how the hospitals issue birth certificates, but on their return we will all rejoice with them in the birth of a new little Johnson, and they will pick up where they have left off and begin to distribute the booklets.
-Jeff and Cheryl are waiting for a container and a mechanic – the container bringing over a dismantled airplane hangar and the mechanic coming to fix the small Cessna which no longer lifts off the ground. Their goal? Continue their ministry here in Fort Portal at New Testament Church of Christ, but begin an airborne ministry into the hazardous jungles of the Democratic Republic of the Congo just across the Rwenzoris. Roads are frequently impassable there and to reach the tribes buried underneath the canopy of trees of the eastern DRC, a plane is the best tool. Their eyes light up when they talk about their new challenge of crossing into Congo to bring much needed physical aid and the grace, mercy and love of Jesus Christ.
-Destiny and Doug have committed to at least 5 more years here. Why? Because Doug is teaching through the Bible, chapter by chapter, verse by verse, to a group of 30-40 Ugandans who attend Calvary Chapel. Most people who attend church here are not very familiar with the Bible – more familiar with a culturally adapted form of worship which incorporates scripture reading, but no actual teaching of the historical background which gave foundation to the writings or in-depth study of the expanded meanings of the scripture.
-The Wootens have arrived to begin a Bible School at Calvary Chapel. So instead of using his engineering skills to build great bridges (and Clea is an engineer, as well), Isaac is building a tree house for his children that looks out on the beauty of Uganda…and building lives of faith based on the truth of God’s word for those who attend his school. Everything is the Lord’s, is their motto – children, home, health. Their trust in God’s sovereignty is a witness to us all. Connie feels blessed to be with her family, sleeping in her small bed, on a foam mattress, in an unscreened room off a tiny hallway with no carpet under her feet. Bob and I watch her offerings of tender mercies to her grandchildren and miss our own, so very far away.
So while our days are filled with our own personal adventures in helping to bring Christ-centered education to Kicuna through Christ Aid Academy, we are also privileged to spend our days learning from and sharing with a group of dedicated Americans who come from incredibly diverse backgrounds, bring an interesting list of talents and abilities to their work, and have different understandings of God’s word from denominational backgrounds. For some reason we have all landed here on the planet at this moment in time, signed, sealed and delivered by God to Fort Portal, chosen by Him alone to accomplish His purposes. Families with young children to be an encouragement to each other, young mothers sharing teething stories and recipes, young men in ministry able to overcome denominational differences and pool their resources, children to be playmates to each other, and the gray heads of grandparents to try to keep up the pace and to love and nurture them all.
John 15: 16
Bob and I walk in the back door of Brandi and Lew’s home in Boma, the hill which originally was home to the British as they colonized Fortportal Town, and still is home to many mzungus living here. Bob is bearing the gift of lunch, fish and chips, and I am bearing a simple gift – all to celebrate Brandi’s departure to Nairobi. She and Lew are expecting their second child and she will deliver in Aga Khan Hospital, the medical facility which presently boasts the best reputation in East Africa. She will spend the next two weeks to a month – December 6 her delivery date – in a guesthouse/hotel, sharing a living/dining/kitchen facility with other Baptist missionaries, and sharing her own bed with her 18 month old daughter, Elizabeth. Lew will go only so far as the Entebbe airport, kiss his wife and daughter goodbye, put them on the 540 plane to Kenya and pray the appropriate entourage is at the Nairobi Airport to escort Brandi and Elizabeth to the guesthouse. He will follow in the car along the 15 hours of road to Nairobi on November 20th, 2 weeks later. We will do our best to keep Lew occupied during his family’s absence – he and Bob take weekly hikes into the back country around Fort Portal and we can always share a meal.
Brandi’s mother and father wait at home in the states for news of the new grandchild. They are camp parents at a Christian camp in Arkansas and have no extra funds to spend on the $5000 trip to Nairobi. At lunch today, Brandi receives gifts of lotions and soaps to help her feel pampered, but as she opens she is reminded that with Elizabeth’s delivery, her mother was with her, rubbing her feet, her back, braiding her long dark hair, and tending to the needs of a woman nearing delivery. This time, Brandi will need to be tending to the needs of Elizabeth as she scurries around the small quarters, with no help from Lew and no way to leave the compound for fear of going into an early labor. She has already been sequestered at her home in Fort Portal, patiently passing the days cooking, cleaning and playing with Elizabeth. But in Nairobi, nothing and no one except her physician will be familiar and each day will pass slowly with few distractions. Certainly she will find time to pray for Lew who will be home ministering to the boda boda drivers and the Baptist ministers in the area whom he is discipling. As we leave today she hands us small items we may be able to use in her absence so they do not go to waste – no one wastes anything here.
Destiny shares the latest dilemma that she and Doug are facing…which is not to say that this is their first. Not only are they in the throws of registering Calvary Chapel as a legitimate NGO in Fort Portal and fighting the continuous battles with the authorities, nor are they simply faced with the threat of going to court to battle the father of a young girl who ran in front of Doug’s car on the road to Kampala and had to have stitches. Doug is innocent of any negligence, many witnesses attest, but the father continues to use every deception he can to get money out of the Calhouns for his own benefit, not for any medical treatments for his daughter which Doug and Destiny have already paid. The stories of both issues are long, twisted and difficult to explain, but now, on top of these issues, they are working through how to best minister to their cook and nanny who is unmarried and pregnant. Compassion, mercy, grace, integrity, trust, truth, forgiveness, repentance, restoration – they all march before them as they work to sort out all their challenges in their ministry to the people of Fort Portal.
Bob and I leave the Johnson’s home, filled with food, laughter, encouraging conversation and sweet prayer time for Brandi and the new baby, run Destiny home and head to the Wootens. We have promised Connie that we will check on her as she babysits her 4 grandchildren while Isaac and Clea are in Kampala hunting for a new stove (we all hunt for new stoves on occasion). Connie is a youthful 62, full of energy and passion for life. She is somewhat of a free spirit, embracing new experiences like an eager child. Her role in the Wooten household is not only loving grandmother to her daughter’s children, but homeschool teacher to all four of them. Connie and I have committed to Friday afternoon tea as an opportunity for her to weekly reclaim her 62 year old self that she willingly sacrifices all week long for her family. We spend 2 solid hours sipping dark African coffee, letting the rains fall beyond the shelter of the Mountains of the Moon verandah, and chatting about adult topics of faith and politics.
The Wootens have recently moved here from Kenya where they helped run a school. Connie has other state-side children, but committed to help Isaac and Clea in their ministry in Africa as long as they needed her loving arms and educated mind. Isaac grew up in Israel where his parents were missionaries in the shadow of the temple mount in Jerusalem. If he goes back to Israel, he will be called into the military to serve as he is a citizen by birth. His parents now live in Kenya, having taken over the work that Isaac and Clea just left. He understands missions, and despite the fact that he has just completed his doctorate in engineering and could earn a 6 figure salary in the states, he, Clea and their four children ages 4 and under have landed in Fort Portal, Uganda to serve God.
Connie shows us through the house, filled with the scent of onion and garlic, so commonly used in most dishes here. They arrived with no furniture, so the brightly colored floral chairs and sofa in the living area are small gifts the generous landlord left for them to use. The dining room is filled with plastic table and chairs normally used for outdoor dining, but here, the obvious inexpensive choice for a family of 7. The kitchen is bright and cheery, painted a pale yellow and white. An enormous window above the narrow countertops looks out to the back yard. The familiar 2-burner butane stove sits atop the counter, firing up the pressure cooker of vegetable soup, the heavenly source of the onion and garlic which greeted us at the front door. A small sink and an office-sized refrigerator complete the necessary equipment to produce daily meals. There is no laundry room, which most mzungu homes have recently acquired. Susan and Fred, the help who came with the Wootens from Kenya, wash everything by hand. Even with 11 people on the compound, we’re sure there is not much laundry.
Each of the 4 bedrooms in the house is reminiscent of a convent or monastery – a bed to hold the room’s occupants and a small side table with no lamp. Thin drapes cover the windows and blow in the gentle breeze that the afternoon rain has brought. There are no screens on the windows and no mosquito nets over the beds. One of the bedrooms also serves as the “one house school room” where Connie spends part of the day teaching reading, math, science and social studies to Nehemiah, Elijah, Ezekiel and Hosannah. She doesn’t brag on them in vain, as Nehemiah reads off the story of the moths that make baskets from twigs they gather. So while we look through their house in awe of how little they have in material possessions and consider what they could have in the United States, we pray for God to doubly bless them in any way possible for the choices they make to serve God overseas.
Add to these three families the young Andrew and Amy with their 15 month old daughter and a son on the way in January, a family of 6 who hale from Texas and Oregon, and a family of 7 who have adopted 2 American and 3 Ugandan children. Each one has humorous and not so humorous tales to tell of the mountains of trouble they have climbed to minister here – angry and corrupt Ugandans, people yelling in their faces that they should go back to the United States, threats of physical harm, church members who turn their backs on years of ministry and walk away to follow other gods. The list of what could undo any one of us on an average day is endless – and they take it all in stride, pray for God’s guidance and discernment, and keep their faces pointed to the prize ahead. They rejoice over the relationships which are blessed and pray over the relationships which struggle. When they hit walls, they go to God in desperate prayer to find the answer – and here are some of the results…
-Brandi and Lew are investing money in printing a book of the Bible in stories – a simple way to minister to the uneducated or minimally educated who are not able to read sophisticated English. It may be 2 months before they are home from Kenya due to how the hospitals issue birth certificates, but on their return we will all rejoice with them in the birth of a new little Johnson, and they will pick up where they have left off and begin to distribute the booklets.
-Jeff and Cheryl are waiting for a container and a mechanic – the container bringing over a dismantled airplane hangar and the mechanic coming to fix the small Cessna which no longer lifts off the ground. Their goal? Continue their ministry here in Fort Portal at New Testament Church of Christ, but begin an airborne ministry into the hazardous jungles of the Democratic Republic of the Congo just across the Rwenzoris. Roads are frequently impassable there and to reach the tribes buried underneath the canopy of trees of the eastern DRC, a plane is the best tool. Their eyes light up when they talk about their new challenge of crossing into Congo to bring much needed physical aid and the grace, mercy and love of Jesus Christ.
-Destiny and Doug have committed to at least 5 more years here. Why? Because Doug is teaching through the Bible, chapter by chapter, verse by verse, to a group of 30-40 Ugandans who attend Calvary Chapel. Most people who attend church here are not very familiar with the Bible – more familiar with a culturally adapted form of worship which incorporates scripture reading, but no actual teaching of the historical background which gave foundation to the writings or in-depth study of the expanded meanings of the scripture.
-The Wootens have arrived to begin a Bible School at Calvary Chapel. So instead of using his engineering skills to build great bridges (and Clea is an engineer, as well), Isaac is building a tree house for his children that looks out on the beauty of Uganda…and building lives of faith based on the truth of God’s word for those who attend his school. Everything is the Lord’s, is their motto – children, home, health. Their trust in God’s sovereignty is a witness to us all. Connie feels blessed to be with her family, sleeping in her small bed, on a foam mattress, in an unscreened room off a tiny hallway with no carpet under her feet. Bob and I watch her offerings of tender mercies to her grandchildren and miss our own, so very far away.
So while our days are filled with our own personal adventures in helping to bring Christ-centered education to Kicuna through Christ Aid Academy, we are also privileged to spend our days learning from and sharing with a group of dedicated Americans who come from incredibly diverse backgrounds, bring an interesting list of talents and abilities to their work, and have different understandings of God’s word from denominational backgrounds. For some reason we have all landed here on the planet at this moment in time, signed, sealed and delivered by God to Fort Portal, chosen by Him alone to accomplish His purposes. Families with young children to be an encouragement to each other, young mothers sharing teething stories and recipes, young men in ministry able to overcome denominational differences and pool their resources, children to be playmates to each other, and the gray heads of grandparents to try to keep up the pace and to love and nurture them all.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Keeping up with the Joneses
Keeping up with the Joneses takes on a whole new meaning here in Fort Portal. While that philosophy of living has never particularly attracted us, especially coming from the Vail Valley where it is nearly impossible for anyone to keep pace with their neighbors, we can’t help but put our new life in the context of how other Americans live so far from home.
The expat community here is a great mix – lived here a short time, just moved here, lived here five years, been here the entire time we’ve been married, young children, high school age children, home schoolers, pregnant and soon to deliver, two grandmoms and one granddad, live in town, live up country, Baptist, Lutheran, Catholic, Church of Christ, Calvary Chapel, Presbyterian, Anglican. You can find just about any personality type, any part of the US represented, any color hair and any interest – we are athletic, academic, deeply spiritual, committed, called, kind, witty, talented, generous and intelligent. No one would dare expose a dark side – we all need the light of mutual encouragement too much. In our short time here, we know that this group will become like family to us – whether we are sharing a glass of wine or babysitting someone’s children, studying Beth Moore together or talking about football.
So as I recount the humor I find in comparing “keeping up with the Joneses, US style” to “keeping up with the Joneses, Uganda style” please know that we are already growing to dearly love these families who have brought a new and sustaining richness to our lives in Fort Portal. They have shared with us their wisdom, knowledge, advice, experience and humor.
Brandi and Lou hale from the south – Brandi from Mississippi and Lou from South Carolina. However, a strong bond was immediately formed when we discovered they had done their seminary training in Ft. Worth and we could talk Texas with them. Brandi and Lou live at one of the most beautiful corners in all of Fort Portal – they are high on Boma hill (where the British settled on their arrival to take advantage of views of the Rwenzoris), across the street from the nicest hotel in town with beautiful gardens, and under the towering eucalyptus trees that occasionally line the streets. We can’t match their location – they have it all. Nor can we match their butane burners…and I think Bob has BB envy. They have recently purchased a gas oven which looks like it could be in a home in Vail, but the secret to their cooking efficiently is the enormous waist-high butane tank which they connect to the stove when needed. As if that is not enough to envy – both stove and butane tank, they have butane lanterns scattered throughout their house which are just a bit more efficient than the 2 cent candles Bob and I prop up in cups to help us get through the night. Of course, Brandi is 7 months pregnant and needs some creature comforts.
Doug and Destiny are from northern California and run Calvary Chapel. Destiny married Doug after he was already living in Kampala, so she went into this adventure with eyes wide open, even knowing she would have to leave the big city behind and head west to tiny Fort Portal. While Bob and I shudder at the thought of spending $130 on gas to go to Kampala to run errands and spend hours discussing how to forego the trip, Doug and Destiny have a baby who has to get to the doctor for immunizations. They have no choice but to budget for the required travel for Audrey’s shots. We have “Kampala trip” envy because they have an verifiable excuse to go…of course they also have a 7 month old baby and a 3 year old son, a situation I not only do not envy, but am over the moon in my admiration for their courage.
At the first expat dinner we attended at Doug and Destiny’s home, we met Bob and Jennifer – who have lived here 14 years and wear that fact like a badge of courage. This dinner happened to be during our “lost in space wire” episode, so we were wearing our concern on our sleeves and everyone knew what was going on. Bob regaled us with 14 years of stories of stolen money, lost funds, missing donations, and corrupt Ugandans. We don’t think we will ever catch up with his list of how many times he’s been cheated, swindled and deceived, even though we are already working on a rather healthy list of our own.
Our internet and email situation brings up so much emotion that I could write at least a chapter and probably an entire book on the difficulties, the frustrations, and the adjustments we continue to make in trying to find a system that keeps us in touch with home and allows us to share the mission and vision of Christ Aid Academy with friends and donors. So after a trip to UTL with Lou, who generously took time to introduce Bob to Bruno, the friend who babysits Lou’s system, Bob walked away with deep disappointment when Bruno informed him that the great system Lou uses – attaches pictures and documents and goes at a fair clip – is no longer available. So while we spend hours, days and weeks…yes, even months…hunting a new system that works while an old system that Lou got 3 years ago sits on his desk and works fine, we cannot keep up with the Johnson’s and their “ancient” internet system. Ours is brand new and broadband, but only works occasionally…but when it does, we win! It’s lickety-split, does every task we demand of it, and if we close our eyes, we can almost pretend we’re in the US where everyone has high-speed. We just don’t win very often.
Now here is an area that any one of us, no matter where we live, can fall prey to great envy – the yard surrounding our homes. Just think about boisterous English gardens, beautifully manicured French gardens, gardens filled with mountain flowers, the riotous colors of annuals like petunias and pansies, blooming vines heavy with blossoms – it takes your breath away, like a Monet painting of Giverny gardens. We love gardens, we love green, we love color! So while we may all have garden envy at some time or another in our lives, the envy here in Uganda takes on a new and serious tone. The yard surrounding your home in Fort Portal is the only piece of ground you have any control over in respect to cleanliness and absence of trash. It is truly your sanctuary in a sea of constant refuse…the one idyllic spot where you can keep trash at bay, create a pastoral scene to soothe the nerves, and keep the wicked world of filth on the other side of the gate. Rumor has it that the new mayor of Fort Portal is working on keeping the trash off the streets – I have a box of plastic gloves to offer him to put a few unemployed to work. As for everyone’s yards, I think we all win. We come from the US where the common practice of throwing trash out the window of a car is frowned on, so we make the most of the rain and the sunshine and all have a little oasis around our homes.
There is one area here where everyone stands on even ground – no one bullies their to the head of the line and no one waits patiently at the end. When the electricity is off, it is off – it has no regard for your being rich or poor, tall or short, old or young, if you are Ugandan or mzunga, ill or well – the electricity is off. You can be caught cooking, ironing, washing or working on the computer – it doesn’t care. It just goes off. You don’t know if it will go off at 7:00AM or back on at 6:00PM. You can wear yourself out and bring yourself close to the brink of insanity trying to figure out when to do chores that involve electricity, when to sit at the computer, when to cook a big meal or a one pan meal. Just when you think you have a pattern down, there’s a public holiday, no one works, and the electricity stays on…or the station in Kasese blows a major fuse and the day they planned to work is moved to the next day…or it teases you and stay on until 9:00AM, making you think it will stay on all day, then goes off…or gets you excited to do laundry, then pulls the plug on you. Reasons are varied, speculation is constant…the most recent I heard was that when the Chinese botched the new dam on the Nile, the government had to step in to repair…a job which will take 5 years. If this continues that long, I predict that all citizens and expats residing in Uganda will be raving lunatics by the time it is completed.
Since we are some of the newest arrivals, we are so far behind the other expats in some issues that we will never catch up with the Joneses. We probably beat Bob and Jennifer in the water arena because they live up country and have to catch rain water or use a well – solar energy does not heat the water like electricity. I think most of us who live in town win in the hot shower category. Our newest arrivals are just happy to have water – they came from Kenya where you can go for a month with nothing running in the pipes. Most families are already trying to catch up with us in number of guests from the states – we’ve hosted 9 people in 6 weeks, as well as had lunch with 4 others from Arizona who didn’t have time to come to the house. Because Cheryl and Jeff have lived here for 14 years, they have traveled extensively and seen much of Africa – we yearn to see just a few places in our three years and will start chipping away with saving and planning at our short list of the Indian Ocean, Mt. Kilamjaro and a French island vacation on the Seychelles or Mauritius. Everyone here has long-term commitments, meaning years and years and years, while ours is just for 3 years. We will always stay the babies in this one. Most of the men can speak Rutooro much better than us, but we are already using more words than some of the wives who have been much too busy having and taking care of children to spend time learning a foreign language. Who has the best network for information on how to survive this interesting and challenging life abroad? Well, the US government thinks Jeff and Bob do since they are the reps from the US Embassy for all of us here in Fort Portal. Most importantly…lives touched by the love of Christ, souls saved for the Lord, scripture opened to hungry hearts – only God knows how we’re all doing in this category of keeping up with the Joneses. We all pray we are simply doing what we’re called to do, not keeping score, and leaving the rest to our Heavenly Father.
The expat community here is a great mix – lived here a short time, just moved here, lived here five years, been here the entire time we’ve been married, young children, high school age children, home schoolers, pregnant and soon to deliver, two grandmoms and one granddad, live in town, live up country, Baptist, Lutheran, Catholic, Church of Christ, Calvary Chapel, Presbyterian, Anglican. You can find just about any personality type, any part of the US represented, any color hair and any interest – we are athletic, academic, deeply spiritual, committed, called, kind, witty, talented, generous and intelligent. No one would dare expose a dark side – we all need the light of mutual encouragement too much. In our short time here, we know that this group will become like family to us – whether we are sharing a glass of wine or babysitting someone’s children, studying Beth Moore together or talking about football.
So as I recount the humor I find in comparing “keeping up with the Joneses, US style” to “keeping up with the Joneses, Uganda style” please know that we are already growing to dearly love these families who have brought a new and sustaining richness to our lives in Fort Portal. They have shared with us their wisdom, knowledge, advice, experience and humor.
Brandi and Lou hale from the south – Brandi from Mississippi and Lou from South Carolina. However, a strong bond was immediately formed when we discovered they had done their seminary training in Ft. Worth and we could talk Texas with them. Brandi and Lou live at one of the most beautiful corners in all of Fort Portal – they are high on Boma hill (where the British settled on their arrival to take advantage of views of the Rwenzoris), across the street from the nicest hotel in town with beautiful gardens, and under the towering eucalyptus trees that occasionally line the streets. We can’t match their location – they have it all. Nor can we match their butane burners…and I think Bob has BB envy. They have recently purchased a gas oven which looks like it could be in a home in Vail, but the secret to their cooking efficiently is the enormous waist-high butane tank which they connect to the stove when needed. As if that is not enough to envy – both stove and butane tank, they have butane lanterns scattered throughout their house which are just a bit more efficient than the 2 cent candles Bob and I prop up in cups to help us get through the night. Of course, Brandi is 7 months pregnant and needs some creature comforts.
Doug and Destiny are from northern California and run Calvary Chapel. Destiny married Doug after he was already living in Kampala, so she went into this adventure with eyes wide open, even knowing she would have to leave the big city behind and head west to tiny Fort Portal. While Bob and I shudder at the thought of spending $130 on gas to go to Kampala to run errands and spend hours discussing how to forego the trip, Doug and Destiny have a baby who has to get to the doctor for immunizations. They have no choice but to budget for the required travel for Audrey’s shots. We have “Kampala trip” envy because they have an verifiable excuse to go…of course they also have a 7 month old baby and a 3 year old son, a situation I not only do not envy, but am over the moon in my admiration for their courage.
At the first expat dinner we attended at Doug and Destiny’s home, we met Bob and Jennifer – who have lived here 14 years and wear that fact like a badge of courage. This dinner happened to be during our “lost in space wire” episode, so we were wearing our concern on our sleeves and everyone knew what was going on. Bob regaled us with 14 years of stories of stolen money, lost funds, missing donations, and corrupt Ugandans. We don’t think we will ever catch up with his list of how many times he’s been cheated, swindled and deceived, even though we are already working on a rather healthy list of our own.
Our internet and email situation brings up so much emotion that I could write at least a chapter and probably an entire book on the difficulties, the frustrations, and the adjustments we continue to make in trying to find a system that keeps us in touch with home and allows us to share the mission and vision of Christ Aid Academy with friends and donors. So after a trip to UTL with Lou, who generously took time to introduce Bob to Bruno, the friend who babysits Lou’s system, Bob walked away with deep disappointment when Bruno informed him that the great system Lou uses – attaches pictures and documents and goes at a fair clip – is no longer available. So while we spend hours, days and weeks…yes, even months…hunting a new system that works while an old system that Lou got 3 years ago sits on his desk and works fine, we cannot keep up with the Johnson’s and their “ancient” internet system. Ours is brand new and broadband, but only works occasionally…but when it does, we win! It’s lickety-split, does every task we demand of it, and if we close our eyes, we can almost pretend we’re in the US where everyone has high-speed. We just don’t win very often.
Now here is an area that any one of us, no matter where we live, can fall prey to great envy – the yard surrounding our homes. Just think about boisterous English gardens, beautifully manicured French gardens, gardens filled with mountain flowers, the riotous colors of annuals like petunias and pansies, blooming vines heavy with blossoms – it takes your breath away, like a Monet painting of Giverny gardens. We love gardens, we love green, we love color! So while we may all have garden envy at some time or another in our lives, the envy here in Uganda takes on a new and serious tone. The yard surrounding your home in Fort Portal is the only piece of ground you have any control over in respect to cleanliness and absence of trash. It is truly your sanctuary in a sea of constant refuse…the one idyllic spot where you can keep trash at bay, create a pastoral scene to soothe the nerves, and keep the wicked world of filth on the other side of the gate. Rumor has it that the new mayor of Fort Portal is working on keeping the trash off the streets – I have a box of plastic gloves to offer him to put a few unemployed to work. As for everyone’s yards, I think we all win. We come from the US where the common practice of throwing trash out the window of a car is frowned on, so we make the most of the rain and the sunshine and all have a little oasis around our homes.
There is one area here where everyone stands on even ground – no one bullies their to the head of the line and no one waits patiently at the end. When the electricity is off, it is off – it has no regard for your being rich or poor, tall or short, old or young, if you are Ugandan or mzunga, ill or well – the electricity is off. You can be caught cooking, ironing, washing or working on the computer – it doesn’t care. It just goes off. You don’t know if it will go off at 7:00AM or back on at 6:00PM. You can wear yourself out and bring yourself close to the brink of insanity trying to figure out when to do chores that involve electricity, when to sit at the computer, when to cook a big meal or a one pan meal. Just when you think you have a pattern down, there’s a public holiday, no one works, and the electricity stays on…or the station in Kasese blows a major fuse and the day they planned to work is moved to the next day…or it teases you and stay on until 9:00AM, making you think it will stay on all day, then goes off…or gets you excited to do laundry, then pulls the plug on you. Reasons are varied, speculation is constant…the most recent I heard was that when the Chinese botched the new dam on the Nile, the government had to step in to repair…a job which will take 5 years. If this continues that long, I predict that all citizens and expats residing in Uganda will be raving lunatics by the time it is completed.
Since we are some of the newest arrivals, we are so far behind the other expats in some issues that we will never catch up with the Joneses. We probably beat Bob and Jennifer in the water arena because they live up country and have to catch rain water or use a well – solar energy does not heat the water like electricity. I think most of us who live in town win in the hot shower category. Our newest arrivals are just happy to have water – they came from Kenya where you can go for a month with nothing running in the pipes. Most families are already trying to catch up with us in number of guests from the states – we’ve hosted 9 people in 6 weeks, as well as had lunch with 4 others from Arizona who didn’t have time to come to the house. Because Cheryl and Jeff have lived here for 14 years, they have traveled extensively and seen much of Africa – we yearn to see just a few places in our three years and will start chipping away with saving and planning at our short list of the Indian Ocean, Mt. Kilamjaro and a French island vacation on the Seychelles or Mauritius. Everyone here has long-term commitments, meaning years and years and years, while ours is just for 3 years. We will always stay the babies in this one. Most of the men can speak Rutooro much better than us, but we are already using more words than some of the wives who have been much too busy having and taking care of children to spend time learning a foreign language. Who has the best network for information on how to survive this interesting and challenging life abroad? Well, the US government thinks Jeff and Bob do since they are the reps from the US Embassy for all of us here in Fort Portal. Most importantly…lives touched by the love of Christ, souls saved for the Lord, scripture opened to hungry hearts – only God knows how we’re all doing in this category of keeping up with the Joneses. We all pray we are simply doing what we’re called to do, not keeping score, and leaving the rest to our Heavenly Father.
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