There are things about this trip I do not attempt to understand. These are the things under the direction of the Spirit. Don’t laugh, those promptings can powerfully direct life. “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” The word John uses for wind and spirit is the same word (3:8). He does that a lot with words meaning two things yet each meaning helps the readers understanding of the other side of that word. Stop trying to understand the decisions of some people according to what makes sense in your brain. It is the spirit that directs them, and it blows where it wishes. Without regard for what makes sense to our intelligence. This is why I say im not ready to come back to the states yet, even tho many people miss me and I miss American life so much. Im not done here. Not sure when I will be done. I guess I will know when it is time.
About 6 months before I came to Africa to immerse myself in a drastically different culture, I switched campuses. I didn’t understand it, but I felt called to attend the UW campus of Marshill even tho I had very little in common with the students there. Their struggles with campus life probably looked nothing like mine. I thought that was crazy. It turned out I was only able to attend that one for about a month. I guess God was testing me to see if I would follow his insane promptings. That strange affair probably had something to do with my readiness to live in Africa for a while, even with only 4 days notice for leaving.
So there are things that would only make sense if you were looking from the perspective of God on high overseeing the ages. It makes no sense if your goals in life are money or comfort. No sense at all.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
second soroti trip
I went to soroti again last week. This trip was a lot more eventful than last time, mostly cuz I rode the coach up to soroti. I wanted to experience it for once. There was this conference in soroti last week about trauma counseling. Since that is something related to what I want to do eventually with my life, I felt it behooved me to go. That, and I was so ready for a break. A vacation. Anything different and away. By the end of the workday, im physically exhausted. By Sunday, after 6 days, im mentally and spiritually exhausted also. I had the option to go on Saturday and for the entire week, but I didn’t want to skip out on that much work. So I went on Tuesday instead. Early that morning I left the dorm before the guys were up. I needed to get to soroti long before the light ended. So that’s what I did. Yes, I went alone. Bravery or stupidity; doesn’t matter much to me cuz it was an adventure. I had moms pointing me out to their kids on the bus. In the hour before the bus even left, peddlers would climb on the bus and try to sell the passengers some millet cakes or waters and orange juice. You could even buy a plate of food which they dumped into a bag for you to eat with your hands. The orange juice looked good, but it came in bottles with labels for mineral water. It didn’t look professional. Every time the bus stopped in a town, I had dozens of food peddlers crowding around the bus trying to hawk their skewers of meat or roasted corn or roasted bananas. Thankfully I had a female sitting next to me. She would laugh at people’s reactions to me, especially the peddlers. The coach actually is quite a nice experience. Seats bigger than an airplane and a fairly smooth ride. Its cleaner than the little taxis.
I finally got to mbale which is 2/3 of the way to soroti. The bus mostly emptied there then I sat waiting for the bus to keep going to soroti. It didn’t. instead, the conductor had us file off and go to a taxi-van and get on. There were a few more people than seats, but that’s not unusual. He paid the driver then I lost track of him. As the taxi sat there, the locals inside starting getting somewhat irate at the situation. The coach said it was going all the way to soroti. But there we were sitting in a taxi. I could only catch some of what was going on so I started asking the people next to me. They took pity on this somewhat confused mzungu and explained a few passengers were threatening to call the police on the conductor. Ah. Understand that mbale is on the border between teso and Buganda so there is at least 4 languages flying about. The taxi driver refused to take us after we had already gotten in. so they brought another taxi and most of us boarded that one. Several passengers refused the inconvenience. Oh well, most space for the rest of us. I just wanted to get to soroti soon so I didn’t complain. And we are off. Thankfully we didn’t have to pay out anymore money. I got a window seat – yay. Part of the time I half-slept where my body, while hugging my bag, relaxes except my ears and brain. Its very useful ability for traveling alone. When I decided to “wake-up” several Ugandans flashed me grins and sincerely asked how I had slept. After a bit, we stopped by another taxi that had broken down and picked up a few of their passengers. We had a bit of an issue in another town when the people there demanded parking fees even tho they clearly weren’t policemen and it was public highway. I arrived safely in soroti 2 hours ahead of the sunset. I got a soda and sat near the shop to wait for a pilgrim person to pick me up. (they shops sell mostly soda in glass bottles, so they want the bottle back.)
I stayed with Phyllis and aaron in their house. They let me have my own room and bathroom and tub with a showerhead. And hot water, and oatmeal, and even a handtowel. I kinda stared at the handtowel like I had never seen one before. Oh, and a mirror. The excitement dimmed a bit when I realized the water pressure wasn’t great, but having hot water was awesome. I reveled in getting myself totally clean each evening.
The first morning I was basically bouncing as I ate my oatmeal and orange tang. I could see aaron trying not to laugh so I finally blurted out “I don’t have to work today.” Ah. They took me to town, made sure I knew the names of where I was going and where they lived then dropped me off to find my own way. That’s how it went each morning. I went to the conference all day; learned and ate with 50 ugandans all wanting to learn to better counsel. I walked around town one day – it isn’t very big. I always made sure I got back to the house by dark. I met several non-pilgrim Americans who live there permanently. One morning I arrived before most people. I usually helped the teachers with running the things smoothly. Thankyou alumni office for teaching me that skill. But that morning I had no work. So I walked up to the women dancing near the front and started copying their steps. So they taught me most of the easier footwork of the ateso people. I was still dancing when most of the others arrived. Several people got pictures and videos of me dancing with these Ugandan women. Everyone seemed to like me after that. Later that day a thunderstorm interrupted proceedings. As soon as they announced an impromptu break I headed for the door. There is nothing like warm rain after sitting in a chair for several days. Pure joy. Yup, that’s the word. Joy. Odd word actually. Over-used and under experienced. Anyways, all the Ugandans thought I was crazy. Funny, but crazy. Most of them fear storms. I love them.
Ok, so let me describe the conference. 6 women counselors from New York area have started coming to soroti once a year to give a conference in conjunction with Pilgrim about counseling, mostly to teach others how to counsel. The Ugandans learning this information work as teachers, pastors, counselors, prison guards, and social workers. I think I was the youngest there and definitely the only boat builder. This year the topic was trauma counseling. We went thru what trauma is and does to people, how to stabilize traumatized people, and how to care for yourself as the counselor so you don’t get 3nd degree trauma from listening to it. But these Ugandans listening had a ton of experience in dealing with traumatized clients. This is an area that recently dealt with the Lord’s Resistance Army so many of them had former child soldiers for clients. I don’t know which I learned more from; the American counselors presenting the material, or the Ugandans who lived this work for many years. The stories they recounted of different clients astounded me. After a while I just wanted to cry cuz of the stories. The things child soldiers went thru, child rape, or even just normal life to these people. These people are resilient. There were several sessions of watching two counselors play a specific client and the counselor. The first was a new Yorker who wouldn’t move even tho her ex kept calling and threatening to kill her. The second was a boy who was abducted by the LRA twice (that was hard, yet amazing to hear about then watch). The third was a Ugandan boy looking for a new place to sleep. So different from American trauma. Also, the cultural differences became clear to me as the Ugandans asked questions about the material. Things like time and special boundaries to make it easier on the counselor, or why confidentiality included not telling the spouse. Well, why wouldn’t it be ok for the client to come to the counselor’s home if they needed to in the night? The funniest was a Ugandan reminding everyone to not cross their legs when talking with a client. The Americans were very confused till they figured out that’s disrespectful here.
Another thing which I could watch from my vantage point was the disconnect on religion. The Ugandans took it for granted that counseling included things like forgiveness and God’s love. The New Yorkers didn’t necessarily. There was one Episcopal and several cultural jews and one unknown. We started each session with prayer and singing and each day with a sermonette. By the end of the conference, the Americans were clapping along to the Ugandan worship songs. Most of the teaching did not include anything about God or even god. But the Ugandans tended to naturally put everything presented in Christian terms. The principles of counseling made good sense according to Christianity – go figure. We all got to mingle for morning tea, lunch, and afternoon tea. Not sure if I will get used to this whole tea business. But hearing the stories made it totally worth it. Hearing about women having so many kids so early, or talking with women whose brideprice was counted in cows. It’s a different world with different ideas here.
The conference ended with a feast. So more talking and listening. But we also got to hear a guy named sam play an adungu (sp?) and sing ateso psalms. That was so counter culture I cant even describe it. But it sounded good. Very peaceful yet happy.
I was able to visit the school pilgrim runs up in soroti. I played volleyball with the older boys (girls don’t know how to play it here) and walked around the grounds taking pictures of students. Btw, they have incorporated parts of soccer into volleyball; kicking the ball is allowed. However, I never saw the ball kicked in the right direction. I played a few games, and lots of kids wanted to play. I walked around and by the time I came back, only a few were playing. So I played again and by the time I left the group was back all wanting to play. Im not even that good at volleyball.
The trip back was in a pilgrim van with mark and steve and talia. She is a Columbia student so we talked most of the way back. I got my girl time in so im set for a while. She told me about the weird practices of exorcisms in the soroti area. She was fascinated so eventually I told her a bit of what I know on the subject and even told her a short version of my testimony. She reacted with interest, saying she had never met a Christian like me. That’s a comment I get a lot. Im ok with that. Not insult or compliment, just how I am.
I finally got to mbale which is 2/3 of the way to soroti. The bus mostly emptied there then I sat waiting for the bus to keep going to soroti. It didn’t. instead, the conductor had us file off and go to a taxi-van and get on. There were a few more people than seats, but that’s not unusual. He paid the driver then I lost track of him. As the taxi sat there, the locals inside starting getting somewhat irate at the situation. The coach said it was going all the way to soroti. But there we were sitting in a taxi. I could only catch some of what was going on so I started asking the people next to me. They took pity on this somewhat confused mzungu and explained a few passengers were threatening to call the police on the conductor. Ah. Understand that mbale is on the border between teso and Buganda so there is at least 4 languages flying about. The taxi driver refused to take us after we had already gotten in. so they brought another taxi and most of us boarded that one. Several passengers refused the inconvenience. Oh well, most space for the rest of us. I just wanted to get to soroti soon so I didn’t complain. And we are off. Thankfully we didn’t have to pay out anymore money. I got a window seat – yay. Part of the time I half-slept where my body, while hugging my bag, relaxes except my ears and brain. Its very useful ability for traveling alone. When I decided to “wake-up” several Ugandans flashed me grins and sincerely asked how I had slept. After a bit, we stopped by another taxi that had broken down and picked up a few of their passengers. We had a bit of an issue in another town when the people there demanded parking fees even tho they clearly weren’t policemen and it was public highway. I arrived safely in soroti 2 hours ahead of the sunset. I got a soda and sat near the shop to wait for a pilgrim person to pick me up. (they shops sell mostly soda in glass bottles, so they want the bottle back.)
I stayed with Phyllis and aaron in their house. They let me have my own room and bathroom and tub with a showerhead. And hot water, and oatmeal, and even a handtowel. I kinda stared at the handtowel like I had never seen one before. Oh, and a mirror. The excitement dimmed a bit when I realized the water pressure wasn’t great, but having hot water was awesome. I reveled in getting myself totally clean each evening.
The first morning I was basically bouncing as I ate my oatmeal and orange tang. I could see aaron trying not to laugh so I finally blurted out “I don’t have to work today.” Ah. They took me to town, made sure I knew the names of where I was going and where they lived then dropped me off to find my own way. That’s how it went each morning. I went to the conference all day; learned and ate with 50 ugandans all wanting to learn to better counsel. I walked around town one day – it isn’t very big. I always made sure I got back to the house by dark. I met several non-pilgrim Americans who live there permanently. One morning I arrived before most people. I usually helped the teachers with running the things smoothly. Thankyou alumni office for teaching me that skill. But that morning I had no work. So I walked up to the women dancing near the front and started copying their steps. So they taught me most of the easier footwork of the ateso people. I was still dancing when most of the others arrived. Several people got pictures and videos of me dancing with these Ugandan women. Everyone seemed to like me after that. Later that day a thunderstorm interrupted proceedings. As soon as they announced an impromptu break I headed for the door. There is nothing like warm rain after sitting in a chair for several days. Pure joy. Yup, that’s the word. Joy. Odd word actually. Over-used and under experienced. Anyways, all the Ugandans thought I was crazy. Funny, but crazy. Most of them fear storms. I love them.
Ok, so let me describe the conference. 6 women counselors from New York area have started coming to soroti once a year to give a conference in conjunction with Pilgrim about counseling, mostly to teach others how to counsel. The Ugandans learning this information work as teachers, pastors, counselors, prison guards, and social workers. I think I was the youngest there and definitely the only boat builder. This year the topic was trauma counseling. We went thru what trauma is and does to people, how to stabilize traumatized people, and how to care for yourself as the counselor so you don’t get 3nd degree trauma from listening to it. But these Ugandans listening had a ton of experience in dealing with traumatized clients. This is an area that recently dealt with the Lord’s Resistance Army so many of them had former child soldiers for clients. I don’t know which I learned more from; the American counselors presenting the material, or the Ugandans who lived this work for many years. The stories they recounted of different clients astounded me. After a while I just wanted to cry cuz of the stories. The things child soldiers went thru, child rape, or even just normal life to these people. These people are resilient. There were several sessions of watching two counselors play a specific client and the counselor. The first was a new Yorker who wouldn’t move even tho her ex kept calling and threatening to kill her. The second was a boy who was abducted by the LRA twice (that was hard, yet amazing to hear about then watch). The third was a Ugandan boy looking for a new place to sleep. So different from American trauma. Also, the cultural differences became clear to me as the Ugandans asked questions about the material. Things like time and special boundaries to make it easier on the counselor, or why confidentiality included not telling the spouse. Well, why wouldn’t it be ok for the client to come to the counselor’s home if they needed to in the night? The funniest was a Ugandan reminding everyone to not cross their legs when talking with a client. The Americans were very confused till they figured out that’s disrespectful here.
Another thing which I could watch from my vantage point was the disconnect on religion. The Ugandans took it for granted that counseling included things like forgiveness and God’s love. The New Yorkers didn’t necessarily. There was one Episcopal and several cultural jews and one unknown. We started each session with prayer and singing and each day with a sermonette. By the end of the conference, the Americans were clapping along to the Ugandan worship songs. Most of the teaching did not include anything about God or even god. But the Ugandans tended to naturally put everything presented in Christian terms. The principles of counseling made good sense according to Christianity – go figure. We all got to mingle for morning tea, lunch, and afternoon tea. Not sure if I will get used to this whole tea business. But hearing the stories made it totally worth it. Hearing about women having so many kids so early, or talking with women whose brideprice was counted in cows. It’s a different world with different ideas here.
The conference ended with a feast. So more talking and listening. But we also got to hear a guy named sam play an adungu (sp?) and sing ateso psalms. That was so counter culture I cant even describe it. But it sounded good. Very peaceful yet happy.
I was able to visit the school pilgrim runs up in soroti. I played volleyball with the older boys (girls don’t know how to play it here) and walked around the grounds taking pictures of students. Btw, they have incorporated parts of soccer into volleyball; kicking the ball is allowed. However, I never saw the ball kicked in the right direction. I played a few games, and lots of kids wanted to play. I walked around and by the time I came back, only a few were playing. So I played again and by the time I left the group was back all wanting to play. Im not even that good at volleyball.
The trip back was in a pilgrim van with mark and steve and talia. She is a Columbia student so we talked most of the way back. I got my girl time in so im set for a while. She told me about the weird practices of exorcisms in the soroti area. She was fascinated so eventually I told her a bit of what I know on the subject and even told her a short version of my testimony. She reacted with interest, saying she had never met a Christian like me. That’s a comment I get a lot. Im ok with that. Not insult or compliment, just how I am.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
more random bits
First of all, congrats to albert and april for the birth of their daughter mercy. Happy day of birth mercy. Welcome to your first taste of life, mercy.
Bob leaves tomorrow. Sad thain boat team of Africa. We shall miss bob. He counsels us as to the stupid things we are about to embark on. also, he teaches us in areas he has experience in that we don’t. he has a positive attitude which is hard to come by in this line of work. As preparation for leaving he did last minute shopping in kampala for gifts and I hemmed his pants. Random I know. Sharron, keep him safe, for he has survived Uganda with the food here and the boda rides. It would be a shame for something to happen in safe America. Good luck bob. You are a good man and this group will miss you. For all you wondering, no, this isn’t a eulogy at all. but seriously, who will buy soda for us all each night?
Jon paul walked back the other day bearing our lunch and a headless snake with a sprig of chili stuck in his bandana. He did not kill it, that fact has bummed him a bit. But he did cut off the head and skin it. I think it was a green mamba. The locals were stoning it when he saved its skin. Quite literally actually since that’s all he kept. The locals have nicknamed him “the man with no clothes” in lugandan because he never wears his shirt when walking around and most of the time around the dorm he goes barefoot.
The boat is moving along in its process. We have the floors and beams ontop of the hulls but not fully attached yet. once those are in place, the rest of the boat will move much faster. It feels like we have repositioned the hulls for weeks. Each time we get closer, tho never perfect. If the hulls aren’t perfect, the whole boat will remain crooked. Not ok. So we inch over each day towards perfection. Moving a 2 ton hull with wooden levers and man power can get exasperating. Oh well.
There is a lizard in one of the containers. And we found a bat trapped in one of the hulls. Frogs and insects constantly get inside and promptly stuck. We walk thru hundreds of dragonflies sporting every color of the rainbow. Actually, not so much green, but every other color. What is a group of dragonflies called? Imagine standing in the center of the galaxy with all the stars spinning around you. Now imagine all those stars are dragonflies. That’s what its like.
We hear music every day going down the road. Ice cream boda! Kinda like an ice cream truck, only… in the form of a boda. Strapped to the back is an orange Gatorade looking ice water holder full of pink and yellow ice cream. 200 shillings for a small cone. Awesome. We go down to the village and buy sweet cakes and bubble gum and soda. Or zebra which is a truly aweful form of rum. If you mix it with coke its drinkable. The fifa world cup plays every evening so we walk over to the resort to watch the games. It feels like a movie to walk thru the warm evening to the pole and thatch building housing rustic chairs and a tv, Those south Africans really like buzzy horns. When we hear the bee hive, we know the tv is playing the football match. Not American football, soccer.
We have all reached a level of tan not possible in seattle, even in the hottest of summers. Our tan lines stand out quite a bit. My arm hair stands out against my brown arms. Bryce and jon-paul tend to wear epoxy shorts and good shoes for their African work uniform. I add a cami or a shirt to the outfit for my uniform. Bob is the odd one, sporting long pants and a button shirt compliments of ex officio. In communication with the locals, we tend to use nicknames based mainly on their physical appearance. There is Red Hat, and Ben (not his name), Gray shirt, Stripes, etc. they in turn call Bryce Mr. Bright cuz the closest pronunciation is “blyce”.
Bob won the other night at settlers of catan. But he didn’t realize it for two rounds until I was about to get 11 points and win. Then he counted up his points and cut me off. I was so close.
The stupid mud wasps tried to build a nest on a pair of my pants. I guess they figured they wouldn’t move. They had only been there since the night before. Stupid mud wasps.
Bob leaves tomorrow. Sad thain boat team of Africa. We shall miss bob. He counsels us as to the stupid things we are about to embark on. also, he teaches us in areas he has experience in that we don’t. he has a positive attitude which is hard to come by in this line of work. As preparation for leaving he did last minute shopping in kampala for gifts and I hemmed his pants. Random I know. Sharron, keep him safe, for he has survived Uganda with the food here and the boda rides. It would be a shame for something to happen in safe America. Good luck bob. You are a good man and this group will miss you. For all you wondering, no, this isn’t a eulogy at all. but seriously, who will buy soda for us all each night?
Jon paul walked back the other day bearing our lunch and a headless snake with a sprig of chili stuck in his bandana. He did not kill it, that fact has bummed him a bit. But he did cut off the head and skin it. I think it was a green mamba. The locals were stoning it when he saved its skin. Quite literally actually since that’s all he kept. The locals have nicknamed him “the man with no clothes” in lugandan because he never wears his shirt when walking around and most of the time around the dorm he goes barefoot.
The boat is moving along in its process. We have the floors and beams ontop of the hulls but not fully attached yet. once those are in place, the rest of the boat will move much faster. It feels like we have repositioned the hulls for weeks. Each time we get closer, tho never perfect. If the hulls aren’t perfect, the whole boat will remain crooked. Not ok. So we inch over each day towards perfection. Moving a 2 ton hull with wooden levers and man power can get exasperating. Oh well.
There is a lizard in one of the containers. And we found a bat trapped in one of the hulls. Frogs and insects constantly get inside and promptly stuck. We walk thru hundreds of dragonflies sporting every color of the rainbow. Actually, not so much green, but every other color. What is a group of dragonflies called? Imagine standing in the center of the galaxy with all the stars spinning around you. Now imagine all those stars are dragonflies. That’s what its like.
We hear music every day going down the road. Ice cream boda! Kinda like an ice cream truck, only… in the form of a boda. Strapped to the back is an orange Gatorade looking ice water holder full of pink and yellow ice cream. 200 shillings for a small cone. Awesome. We go down to the village and buy sweet cakes and bubble gum and soda. Or zebra which is a truly aweful form of rum. If you mix it with coke its drinkable. The fifa world cup plays every evening so we walk over to the resort to watch the games. It feels like a movie to walk thru the warm evening to the pole and thatch building housing rustic chairs and a tv, Those south Africans really like buzzy horns. When we hear the bee hive, we know the tv is playing the football match. Not American football, soccer.
We have all reached a level of tan not possible in seattle, even in the hottest of summers. Our tan lines stand out quite a bit. My arm hair stands out against my brown arms. Bryce and jon-paul tend to wear epoxy shorts and good shoes for their African work uniform. I add a cami or a shirt to the outfit for my uniform. Bob is the odd one, sporting long pants and a button shirt compliments of ex officio. In communication with the locals, we tend to use nicknames based mainly on their physical appearance. There is Red Hat, and Ben (not his name), Gray shirt, Stripes, etc. they in turn call Bryce Mr. Bright cuz the closest pronunciation is “blyce”.
Bob won the other night at settlers of catan. But he didn’t realize it for two rounds until I was about to get 11 points and win. Then he counted up his points and cut me off. I was so close.
The stupid mud wasps tried to build a nest on a pair of my pants. I guess they figured they wouldn’t move. They had only been there since the night before. Stupid mud wasps.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
speaking in tongues?
A group from a "miracle center" rented some of the dorms to stay and have a retreat. does anyone know about these kinds of centers? They kept us up the first night with their praying and singing. But the second evening they chanted down by the shore. And they were loud with their pacing and yelling in tongues and screaming. Now, don’t get me wrong, I believe the gift of speaking in tongues still exists and can be used for great good. However, like any of the gifts, it can be misused and faked. I wasn’t terribly surprised when John Paul said he felt moved by the Spirit to go talk to them and confront them with their chaos. Bryce sent him off with a prayer, I encouraged him that he knew more than he thought. Next time I looked, john paul sat in one of the chairs reading his bible, surrounded by people chanting, screaming, shaking, yelling, and writhing on the ground. I went down to check out the situation. Some of you know my past, and how it has affected me. I tell you, there was something wrong happening, something strange. John paul assured me he wanted to do this on his own. So went back to the dorm and watched. He stood up and talked to them for a few minutes as they all listened, then read part of Corinthians where it talks about prophets and speaking in tongues. Then he prayed for them all and walked back to the dorm. He left on a walk to go compose himself. As soon as he left, they started up again, only this time twice as loud and fervent. So I sat there and prayed against whatever they were doing until my parents called. Why didn’t I go over and do something about their actions? I don’t know. I don’t know if it was fear or just my inability to act. Maybe the Holy Spirit moved john paul to act, but not me. Whatever the reason, I didn’t. thankfully, they left the next day.
birthday
Im now 24. I have only had a few ideas of where I would be at age 24, none of which included basically camping in Uganda building a boat without electric tools. Never thought I would be popular walking through a village. Or that I would be sitting on the shores of lake Victoria dreaming about a cheeseburger from any fastfood joint. How have I come to rely on the kinds of things I have always thought less of people for relying on? I want to walk down the street without being yelled mzungu at. I want hummus, sushi, Guinness, Hershey, and a steak. I have always wanted to travel, but honestly Africa wasn’t on the top of the list. Im so getting a cheeseburger when I get off the plane. I want a hot shower every day.
My birthday was last week. Actually, it wasn’t bad. Even tho the Ugandans don’t really celebrate birthdays. They wanted to give me an extra helping of posho and a spanking and toss water on me while I slept. None of which I opted for experiencing. In holding with more American traditions, I didn’t have to work at all. Bryce missed most of it, being in kampala and all, but he did bring back flowers and a little chocolate cake. It melted by the time it reached me, but chocolate still tastes like chocolate. And the best part was hearing from my family all within 24 hours of each other.
The rest of the week kinda sucked. No internet at all. frustrating work as usual. By the time Sunday came around, I was crawling emotionally. But the good news is that kampala has internet. I opened up my email and found dozens of birthday emails and a whole facebook page of happy birthday wishes. So awesome to receive that. Thankyou all for that.
also, i dont come back to the states till at least mid-september.
My birthday was last week. Actually, it wasn’t bad. Even tho the Ugandans don’t really celebrate birthdays. They wanted to give me an extra helping of posho and a spanking and toss water on me while I slept. None of which I opted for experiencing. In holding with more American traditions, I didn’t have to work at all. Bryce missed most of it, being in kampala and all, but he did bring back flowers and a little chocolate cake. It melted by the time it reached me, but chocolate still tastes like chocolate. And the best part was hearing from my family all within 24 hours of each other.
The rest of the week kinda sucked. No internet at all. frustrating work as usual. By the time Sunday came around, I was crawling emotionally. But the good news is that kampala has internet. I opened up my email and found dozens of birthday emails and a whole facebook page of happy birthday wishes. So awesome to receive that. Thankyou all for that.
also, i dont come back to the states till at least mid-september.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
learning
What I learned in Uganda so far; How to ride a boda boda with just holding on with my legs. And I learned how to wash my clothes by hand. I guess im doing an ok job considering the water turns a reddish brown color. But have you ever tried to get red dirt out of white socks? And don’t hang your clothes out the day your neighbors plan on burning the garbage. I have to wash most of those clothes again cuz they got smoked instead of dried. The soap is the same for dishes and clothes and floor. One soap cleans all. Also, geckos bite. Not hard or pinchy, but they do bite. I caught a medium size gecko who was crawling around my clothes while they dried. I wanted to wait till a bigger one since I was scared I would crush a little one just by picking it up. So I caught a decent size one, and it bit me. Wretch. i have learned how to understand ugandan accents. how to be ok with being the center of attention. how to ride a boda sidesaddle when wearing a skirt (not very often). how to spot someone planning to pick my pocket. how to bargain for a non-mzungu price. ill never be as good as john paul and bryce, but getting better. how to keep a straight face when something stuns me.
like the other night; we came home in the dark and everytime we walked under a light, there was a literal cloud of bugs. they were so thick that we could see the air currents inside the cloud. when i got to my room, i found that maureen had left the light on for me. therfore a cloud of bugs inhabited my room. i managed to clear my bed of most of the bugs, but getting all of them was impossible. the mosquitoes had a field day with my skin that night. the next day i asked maureen about it and asked that she turn off the light when she goes to sleep so it doesnt attract bugs. thats when she told me she didnt know the light attracted bugs at night. that revelation stunned me.
It isn’t paradise here. Being in Uganda is cool and all. its beautiful for sure. But not all goes well. Getting tools here is probably the hardest. If it isn’t cheap Chinese sub-standard equipment, its second hand and might not work. Also, the plug-ins might short. You can get good tools if you shop at the south African store and spend 2 or more times the price in America. The lumber here is another problem. Its hardwood which has been rough hewn to generally the right size, generally being the key word in that sentance. The sides might not be parallel or straight. And 2x4s aren’t really 2x4. They are bigger and heavier. One 2x4 here weighs as much as 5 or 6 2x4s in the states. Good luck drilling thru one by hand, or pounding a nail thru the wood.
All of us are seeing first hand how to accomplish logistics better. Do you have any idea how much food 10 construction workers can eat? Maureen is busy all day just cooking for us. Food, transportation, materials, power, tools, etc. any one of these things and a dozen others can go wrong and interrupt work. Also, we have to buy all our water for drinking. Sheesh, we could have one person permanently in charge of fixing issues that delay us. None of us want that job placed solely on our shoulders. So we all work at it, but there is no way to “fix” a day of storms or a power outage. Our site is fully uncovered, so any rain delays us. And sorry everyone, our internet was down again this week.
like the other night; we came home in the dark and everytime we walked under a light, there was a literal cloud of bugs. they were so thick that we could see the air currents inside the cloud. when i got to my room, i found that maureen had left the light on for me. therfore a cloud of bugs inhabited my room. i managed to clear my bed of most of the bugs, but getting all of them was impossible. the mosquitoes had a field day with my skin that night. the next day i asked maureen about it and asked that she turn off the light when she goes to sleep so it doesnt attract bugs. thats when she told me she didnt know the light attracted bugs at night. that revelation stunned me.
It isn’t paradise here. Being in Uganda is cool and all. its beautiful for sure. But not all goes well. Getting tools here is probably the hardest. If it isn’t cheap Chinese sub-standard equipment, its second hand and might not work. Also, the plug-ins might short. You can get good tools if you shop at the south African store and spend 2 or more times the price in America. The lumber here is another problem. Its hardwood which has been rough hewn to generally the right size, generally being the key word in that sentance. The sides might not be parallel or straight. And 2x4s aren’t really 2x4. They are bigger and heavier. One 2x4 here weighs as much as 5 or 6 2x4s in the states. Good luck drilling thru one by hand, or pounding a nail thru the wood.
All of us are seeing first hand how to accomplish logistics better. Do you have any idea how much food 10 construction workers can eat? Maureen is busy all day just cooking for us. Food, transportation, materials, power, tools, etc. any one of these things and a dozen others can go wrong and interrupt work. Also, we have to buy all our water for drinking. Sheesh, we could have one person permanently in charge of fixing issues that delay us. None of us want that job placed solely on our shoulders. So we all work at it, but there is no way to “fix” a day of storms or a power outage. Our site is fully uncovered, so any rain delays us. And sorry everyone, our internet was down again this week.
kids and wedding
I went for a walk today just to get out of the compound. The guys were gone in anthony’s truck getting lumber…for 3 hours (actually 8 by the time they came back). All along the road there are houses and gardens and villages. And in everyone of those, there are kids. Little kids just in shirts. Older kids carrying babies. Groups of kids in school uniforms. More kids in clothes of indeterminant color. Snotty-nose kids. Even one albino child led by an older sibling. But they all had one thing in common – “hi mzungu!” “bye bye mzungu!” I walked along feeling very popular. Just walk along, wave at the children, say hi, say bye. When I turned around to walk back home, a group of kids in school uniforms stood there watching me. So I walked over and shook there hands. That was just the coolest thing to these kids. They each shook my hand, doing a little curtsy, and then ran a few feet away to look at me with a big grin. So I walked away and became aware I had an entourage. 2 kids holding my hands, and 3 following closely; all grinning. Now all the kids we passed wore very envious looks instead of grins. One group of kids also started following, making the entourage more of a parade. At the village I called it off by turning down another road… to a school. There are a lot of kids around here.
I ask Maureen why the kids always yell mzungu. (btw, the plural of mzungu is wzungu). She told me its cuz these children know that mzungus love children more than black adults normally do, often more than their own mothers do. She said the adults often expect the kids to know what to do without first teaching them. That’s sad. Those children are looking for love when they yell to get my attention.
We went to a wedding last week and I can tell you that weddings are not quiet affairs here. This wedding looked and acted much like our American weddings. Well, mostly. The first clue of differences came in an ear-splitting screech; “aiyaiyaiyeeeee” or something like that. Those continued throughout the music. As the bride and groom walked down the aisle to the altar, several related women stepped out of the pews and proceeded to dance in front of the couple while screeching. I think the screeching is wishing good luck or something cuz the bride and groom seemed to welcome it. A worship team from the church supplied the music, standing upstage and dancing in their casual clothes. The wedding party was decked out, right down to the little ring-bearer practically pulling a little girl down the aisle. Most of the women wore traditional dresses with the spiky sleeves. I have to say, our patch of wzungu definitely stood out in our nice western clothes. After every step of the wedding process, the screeches would start up again. After the actual ceremony and the couple had hugged, not kissed, everyone went up and congratulated them and gave them money. and everyone danced and screeched. Not a quiet affair at all. we did dance with the others a bit. Not Kevin of course, he doesn’t dance.
We went to the reception, which started about 3 hours after the wedding ended. Ugandan food, lots of soda, excellent cake, and lots of Ugandan dancing. I learned that this was a cross-kingdom marriage with people from several parts of Uganda in attendance. They had cheesy American love songs playing while people waited. And 2 people playing MC who were hilarious, especially when they talked about the toilets – “the place of convenience so your bladders don’t have to burst”. All in all it was a fun experience. Different, yet not.
I ask Maureen why the kids always yell mzungu. (btw, the plural of mzungu is wzungu). She told me its cuz these children know that mzungus love children more than black adults normally do, often more than their own mothers do. She said the adults often expect the kids to know what to do without first teaching them. That’s sad. Those children are looking for love when they yell to get my attention.
We went to a wedding last week and I can tell you that weddings are not quiet affairs here. This wedding looked and acted much like our American weddings. Well, mostly. The first clue of differences came in an ear-splitting screech; “aiyaiyaiyeeeee” or something like that. Those continued throughout the music. As the bride and groom walked down the aisle to the altar, several related women stepped out of the pews and proceeded to dance in front of the couple while screeching. I think the screeching is wishing good luck or something cuz the bride and groom seemed to welcome it. A worship team from the church supplied the music, standing upstage and dancing in their casual clothes. The wedding party was decked out, right down to the little ring-bearer practically pulling a little girl down the aisle. Most of the women wore traditional dresses with the spiky sleeves. I have to say, our patch of wzungu definitely stood out in our nice western clothes. After every step of the wedding process, the screeches would start up again. After the actual ceremony and the couple had hugged, not kissed, everyone went up and congratulated them and gave them money. and everyone danced and screeched. Not a quiet affair at all. we did dance with the others a bit. Not Kevin of course, he doesn’t dance.
We went to the reception, which started about 3 hours after the wedding ended. Ugandan food, lots of soda, excellent cake, and lots of Ugandan dancing. I learned that this was a cross-kingdom marriage with people from several parts of Uganda in attendance. They had cheesy American love songs playing while people waited. And 2 people playing MC who were hilarious, especially when they talked about the toilets – “the place of convenience so your bladders don’t have to burst”. All in all it was a fun experience. Different, yet not.
blog update
alrighty readers. i have uploaded more photos and actually captioned most of them. enjoy.
also, i fixed the settings so now you can all post more easily. sorry i didnt figure out that setting earlier. you still have to pass one security thing, pretty much checking if you are a real person and can read. but that should help you comment on my blog. now you have no excuse :P
also, i fixed the settings so now you can all post more easily. sorry i didnt figure out that setting earlier. you still have to pass one security thing, pretty much checking if you are a real person and can read. but that should help you comment on my blog. now you have no excuse :P
Sunday, June 6, 2010
weekend
This weekend focus hosted a group of Americans and Kenyans for the first leg of their short-term mission trip. All of the Thain team were excited to have so many Americans wandering around our area. I would wake up in the morning and walk outside before my coffee. Everywhere I looked would have at least one college student from intervarsity Christian fellowship praying or singing. I had a hard time deciding whether that was annoying or cool. But before my coffee it was definitely annoying. I would still be trying to wake up my foggy brain and several girls all greet me by name as they walked past. God’s fanclub in my yard. Growl. After my coffee and when the group didn’t have meetings, I would wander over and talk with various people just to hear Americans speak. They all got to know me pretty well, I can only remember about 5 names. All of them didn’t believe the story about the boat till they heard it from one of the team or saw it themselves. Its hard to miss 2 giant white hulls sitting on the beach. All of us got to take the group for a short nature walk along the shore. We all enjoyed being surrounded by 20+ Americans pestering us with questions and being awed by our answers about our being in Uganda. Tis a pity I didn’t get to take at least one on a boda ride, but I think that was against the rules like everything else fun. I did get to meet an American missionary in kampala from Michigan. I think I will get to see her again.
Oh, and the American group of girls had an interesting affect on Bryce and john paul; they started climbing trees and showing off in any way possible without actually going over and talking to the girls. They even had a conversation for 15 minutes where they impersonated each other. They know each other’s responses really well. Bob and I almost fell off our chairs laughing. Sadly, I didn’t get to record the convo.
Finally Sunday morning came. My day to not work. My day to go into town and get away from everyone I normally see. The day I get to go to my church and worship with dancing and singing people. So I got all ready, packed my bag for the day…and a storm began rolling in. A huge storm that darkened half the sky as it approached and turned falling leaves into bullets. God sure knows how to make an entrance on His day, doesn’t He? My plans to be on time for church seemed to be thwarted. I stared at the storm and mentally shook my fist at it and God. Then I heard in my heart God saying, “This is My day. It is My church. You get to go because you are Mine.” …oh. Right. Nervous laugh. After that little readjustment to my thinking, the storm slowed enough for me to try and beat the storm to kampala where it was heading. I did, and I even arrived at church early. A young girl fell asleep in my arms during church. I just sat there holding this kid, watching her troubled dreams, and knowing she needed some love. Btw, the storm never hit kampala that I could see. Oh, the irony.
Oh, and the American group of girls had an interesting affect on Bryce and john paul; they started climbing trees and showing off in any way possible without actually going over and talking to the girls. They even had a conversation for 15 minutes where they impersonated each other. They know each other’s responses really well. Bob and I almost fell off our chairs laughing. Sadly, I didn’t get to record the convo.
Finally Sunday morning came. My day to not work. My day to go into town and get away from everyone I normally see. The day I get to go to my church and worship with dancing and singing people. So I got all ready, packed my bag for the day…and a storm began rolling in. A huge storm that darkened half the sky as it approached and turned falling leaves into bullets. God sure knows how to make an entrance on His day, doesn’t He? My plans to be on time for church seemed to be thwarted. I stared at the storm and mentally shook my fist at it and God. Then I heard in my heart God saying, “This is My day. It is My church. You get to go because you are Mine.” …oh. Right. Nervous laugh. After that little readjustment to my thinking, the storm slowed enough for me to try and beat the storm to kampala where it was heading. I did, and I even arrived at church early. A young girl fell asleep in my arms during church. I just sat there holding this kid, watching her troubled dreams, and knowing she needed some love. Btw, the storm never hit kampala that I could see. Oh, the irony.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
new chapter
First of all, congrats to the Wisniews on having a healthy baby. Happy day of birth, Ronan.
Well, a whole new chapter of this trip has started since the team here moved to focus. Focus is a Ugandan Christian retreat center and sometimes has groups of Christians staying here. We get a dorm with 2 rooms, the round conference room, and access to all facilities. I was going to stay in the dorm with the guys, but since our cook Maureen is also a girl, they decided to put our beds in the kitchen room of our dorm. So we sleep in the kitchen. The guys got the hint after being kicked out several times and me asking for a curtain; they are building us girls a screen divider for the room. The guys all sleep in the other room. We each have our own bunk bed so we sleep on one level and store our stuff on the other. Yay for living out of a suitcase again.
Maureen is an awesome cook. She cooks good Ugandan food and is learning American food. We tell her every day we love her for cooking for us. Its quite the difference from what the house guys fed us in ntinda. This food has more than one kind of seasoning. Also, I don’t think any of us know how to cook for 12 people 3 times a day, and definitely not over coal stoves.
Maureen also prays out loud in lugandan every morning, starting at 5:30 or 6. I have slept in a room with no one else for several years now. Someone’s voice in my room wakes me up. But im slowly getting used to it. Other than both being females, we don’t have much in common. We speak mostly the same language in English. But I had never heard of “source pans” as she put on the list of needed kitchen utensils.
We are far out from town. If we are lucky, we can catch a boda or taxi to the main road. The locals in the villages have begun to recognize us crazy mzungus. This is basically the jungle; bob has seen monkeys. I see amazing birds every day in every color of the rainbow. Look up pictures of great blue turacos, that’s what I see playing around in our trees, those and hornbills. also we think the African fish eagle lives in one of our trees. You get used to the ants crawling on you – just brush them off. Same with the green and brown spiders, but I brush those off faster. If I turn on my computer at night, I get a swarm of tiny insects trying to get to the light even if its within my mosquito net. Kinda annoying.
We can watch the sun rise over lake Victoria in the morning, and the moon at night. During the day we watch the thunderstorms move across the bay and sometimes even come toward us. One recent night we had a terrific thunderstorm, terrific in the old sense of the word. The kind where each thunder shakes the walls, where the rain runs off the roof in literal sheets of water. Several times the thunder and lightning struck simultaneously, shaking everything. But other nights we can see both the southern cross and the big dipper. Orion is directly above us. The stars are spectacular.
We have internet …sorta. You have to fight for the signal constantly and it might just disappear for several hours. Oh, and if it is there, you can only receive it outside. It takes a lot of patience. Im not even going to try uploading pictures on that bandwidth. Fun times.
We hire some locals during the day to help with moving pieces of the boat. We have had to dredge up our knowledge of levers and basic wheels which we learned in gradeschool. Cuz that’s basically what we use to do work here. We actually moved the several ton hulls using levers – pretty cool actually.
The other day we received several Ugandan university students as workers. We had to figure out where to put them in the already cramped guys room. I didn’t know Uganda had nerds, but here they are. We will see if any of them can do any actual work.
The idea is to have Sunday in town and work the rest of the days. We will see how that works out since we don’t have a car dedicated to us presently. We have to borrow someone’s car from kampala (an hour and half away) or take public transportation.
Oh, and the “facilities” are pit toilets which were built 10 years ago. Not fun times. It gets better with the showers which are a row of cement rooms with a metal roof. You have to bring your own water if you want that. The guys decided to shower in their swim trunks using the hose.
Don’t get the wrong impression, this place might be a natural paradise with lots of insects, but living here is hard. Working is even harder. And the team here has none of the “familiar” to make it that much easier. Welcome to Africa. We all seem to be showing a little more barbarian as time goes on here. America, do you really want us back?
Well, a whole new chapter of this trip has started since the team here moved to focus. Focus is a Ugandan Christian retreat center and sometimes has groups of Christians staying here. We get a dorm with 2 rooms, the round conference room, and access to all facilities. I was going to stay in the dorm with the guys, but since our cook Maureen is also a girl, they decided to put our beds in the kitchen room of our dorm. So we sleep in the kitchen. The guys got the hint after being kicked out several times and me asking for a curtain; they are building us girls a screen divider for the room. The guys all sleep in the other room. We each have our own bunk bed so we sleep on one level and store our stuff on the other. Yay for living out of a suitcase again.
Maureen is an awesome cook. She cooks good Ugandan food and is learning American food. We tell her every day we love her for cooking for us. Its quite the difference from what the house guys fed us in ntinda. This food has more than one kind of seasoning. Also, I don’t think any of us know how to cook for 12 people 3 times a day, and definitely not over coal stoves.
Maureen also prays out loud in lugandan every morning, starting at 5:30 or 6. I have slept in a room with no one else for several years now. Someone’s voice in my room wakes me up. But im slowly getting used to it. Other than both being females, we don’t have much in common. We speak mostly the same language in English. But I had never heard of “source pans” as she put on the list of needed kitchen utensils.
We are far out from town. If we are lucky, we can catch a boda or taxi to the main road. The locals in the villages have begun to recognize us crazy mzungus. This is basically the jungle; bob has seen monkeys. I see amazing birds every day in every color of the rainbow. Look up pictures of great blue turacos, that’s what I see playing around in our trees, those and hornbills. also we think the African fish eagle lives in one of our trees. You get used to the ants crawling on you – just brush them off. Same with the green and brown spiders, but I brush those off faster. If I turn on my computer at night, I get a swarm of tiny insects trying to get to the light even if its within my mosquito net. Kinda annoying.
We can watch the sun rise over lake Victoria in the morning, and the moon at night. During the day we watch the thunderstorms move across the bay and sometimes even come toward us. One recent night we had a terrific thunderstorm, terrific in the old sense of the word. The kind where each thunder shakes the walls, where the rain runs off the roof in literal sheets of water. Several times the thunder and lightning struck simultaneously, shaking everything. But other nights we can see both the southern cross and the big dipper. Orion is directly above us. The stars are spectacular.
We have internet …sorta. You have to fight for the signal constantly and it might just disappear for several hours. Oh, and if it is there, you can only receive it outside. It takes a lot of patience. Im not even going to try uploading pictures on that bandwidth. Fun times.
We hire some locals during the day to help with moving pieces of the boat. We have had to dredge up our knowledge of levers and basic wheels which we learned in gradeschool. Cuz that’s basically what we use to do work here. We actually moved the several ton hulls using levers – pretty cool actually.
The other day we received several Ugandan university students as workers. We had to figure out where to put them in the already cramped guys room. I didn’t know Uganda had nerds, but here they are. We will see if any of them can do any actual work.
The idea is to have Sunday in town and work the rest of the days. We will see how that works out since we don’t have a car dedicated to us presently. We have to borrow someone’s car from kampala (an hour and half away) or take public transportation.
Oh, and the “facilities” are pit toilets which were built 10 years ago. Not fun times. It gets better with the showers which are a row of cement rooms with a metal roof. You have to bring your own water if you want that. The guys decided to shower in their swim trunks using the hose.
Don’t get the wrong impression, this place might be a natural paradise with lots of insects, but living here is hard. Working is even harder. And the team here has none of the “familiar” to make it that much easier. Welcome to Africa. We all seem to be showing a little more barbarian as time goes on here. America, do you really want us back?
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