> Day 35, Part 1 - Leaving Uganda

Neither Candice nor I slept much last night. We were up at 4AM for Candice to meet up with her safari group. My private hire taxi came not too long after Candice's departure. There was no hot water today. It's only fitting for my last day in Uganda to be reminiscent of so many others. :-)

The drive to the airport was nothing short of terrifying! My driver, Fred from Rwanda, took full advantage of the lack of traffic laws in Uganda. The roads were bulging with pedestrians, boda-bodas, cars, bicycles and of course, chickens. And to make it worse, there was no shoulder. And by 'no shoulder' I mean that immediately off of the pavement were ditches 3-4 feet deep. Every muscle in my body was tense as we made our way through the Kampala neighborhoods.

When traveling in a foreign country I always love to see advertising signs. For example, "OMO. Dirt is Good." I have no idea what OMO is but these signs are painted on the sides of buildings everywhere! On the way to the airport, I saw this sign:

ANTS

All Nations Theological Society

I've been impressed by the Ugandan's creative use of business space. Why pay 2 rents when you could put all of the family businesses in one building? For instance, I saw an office with this sign: "Medical Supplies and Day Care Center".

And this space labelled "Fairway Barber Saloon Videography"...

And here, where Jesus is Lord of Warid Telecom where you can get your hair done and fulfill all of your computer service and photocopying needs...

This is where you buy your cell phone minutes.

Apparently we should all move our money to Uganda where the banks are paying 14% interest!

Sadolin and Zain must pay well to have their advertising painted on buildings because these two sites were extemely common:



Try paying $2,670 for a liter of gasoline.

I have no idea what this is:



I arrived at the airport in one piece but about 4 hours early for my flight. I have a completely different adventure ahead of me in Kenya and Tanzania, but as I sit in this airport, I can think only of all that I've seen and all that I've experienced in this beautiful country. Uganda has kept a part of me for herself and in 4 hours I will leave that behind. I take with me a few small treasures, 3500 photos, more memories than I can count and a profound love and appreciation for a people I knew very little of before this trip. I hope that someday I'll be able to return. I hope that in some way I'll be able to give back a little bit of what Uganda has given me.

> Day 34 - National Museum

Not much to report today. Candice and I walked to a place near the nice little grocery store where we could log on and check our email. Then we called a private hire taxi to take us the National Museum of Uganda. The museum was in a small, dimly lit building. The exhibits were poorly labeled, but I enjoyed the musical instruments and the skeletal remains found in Uganda. We left the museum and walked to a restaurant for a soda. I laughed about the chickens begging for crumbs around the outdoor seating and leaving their droppings on the patio around us. Again, something you would not see in the germ-o-phobic U.S.

We had an interesting conversation with our taxi driver about AIDS. He explained that the attitude of most people is "somebody killed me with this disease so now I'm going to kill somebody else." In spite of all the education about AIDS, the disease still prevails. I asked if many people in Uganda die of cancer. He said that it was really impossible to know because many people say they have cancer as a way of 'saving face' and not admitting that they actually have AIDS.

Back at the guest house we were reminded that the Summer Olympics were happening, something I had completely overlooked. The cooks were cheering for the Kenyan runners who took the Gold in several track events. We got a crash course in how to cook 'posho' (which is the same thing as 'nshima' in Zambia and 'ugali' in Kenya), a cornmeal and water dish that might be considered a substitute for bread in a Western meal.

It's been good to have a couple of low-key days to transition mentally to meeting up with John. After all that I've experienced here, it's going to be difficult for us to relate to each other. Since he knows nothing of Africa, it's probably easier for me to try to adjust my state of mind to the Western attitude that he'll arrive with tomorrow. I can't wait to see him!

> Day 33 - Paperwork & Pedicures

After a morning of washing our clothes in the sinks, Candice and I got a 'private hire' taxi to take us to Mark & Sarah's house. Sarah is preparing to go back to Canada and the U.S. in a few days to visit family and to have the baby. She was grateful for our offer to come over and help her catch up on tasks that are difficult for her to complete while 8 months pregnant and chasing a toddler.

On the way there we mentioned to our taxi driver that we still had not tasted Jack Fruit. It became his mission to find a place selling Jack Fruit, so we meandered through back roads and neighborhood markets until I finally spotted a place and yelled out "JACK FRUIT!" We gave the driver a few shillings and he left us in the car while he went to buy it. I nodded a friendly 'hello' to some young men hanging out across the street from our parked car. Then one of them came to the window of the passenger's seat and told me that he wanted to be my pen pal; i.e., he wanted my address so he could send me sob stories and ask me for money. I chatted with him for a while, told him I wouldn't give him my info and wondered allowed to Candice "where the heck is our driver?!"

Our driver finally returned and to my dismay, he had had the purveyor of the Jack Fruit slice it up for us. Groan. We've been hearing about this fruit for weeks and we missed the one opportunity we had to try it about a week ago. Now we had it right there on the center console of our little minivan but I wasn't about to eat it. I was sure it was washed with unclean water and cut with a knife containing hoards of bacteria that my Western belly would rebuke in a violent rebellion. And so it was that we made a big production of our gratitude to our driver for procuring this curious treat for us and exclaimed that we couldn't possibly eat any without first sharing it with our hosts for the afternoon.

Sarah wrinkled her nose over the Jack Fruit story, washed it with bottled water, prayed over it (which made me laugh) and placed it on a plate for us. After weeks of asking people where we could get it, weeks of anticipation, weeks of curiosity... the stuff was awful! It tasted a little bit like a combination of pineapple and banana with a really bad after-taste. It was interesting to learn that those big, ugly growths on trees were actually an encasement of dozens of seed pods. Surrounding each seed was a sickening sweet, slippery, fibrous pulp that people eat. But apparently not many people eat it since it's on trees everywhere but not in markets!

Kristine called and offered to take us off Sarah's hands, so off we went to have pedicures with Kristine. With the prevalence of AIDS in Africa I was a little apprehensive about getting a pedicure in Uganda. But Kristine and Sally (both Westerners) go to this one particular salon all the time and have been going for years, and I thought it might be kind of nice to have pretty toes for when I meet up with John in Kenya (a rather 'girlie' thing to think).



After our hour of pampering (that cost us about $5), Kristine took us to a a butcher/deli. We tried 2 cheeses I've never had but loved: Prima Dona and Black Doma. I'm going to have to search for that Black Doma stuff when I get back to the States -- WOW! We bought some garlic cheese and some already cut-up chicken and eventually made our way back to Kristine's to cook dinner.




It was really fun to see how a Westerner lives in this foreign place. We cooked, ate and talked for several hours. I really like Kristine and wish I had more time to spend with her! I realized today that life here can be very acceptable to Westerners once they find the right grocery stores and make a few adjustments.

> Day 32 - And Then There Were Two

Eva spent the night with us last night so she could accompany Rebecca and Jon to the airport at 6:00 this morning. It's now just me and Candice.

We had to move to a different guest house where we will be for our last 3 nights in Kampala. Candice's plans for joining a group safari have finally worked out and I'll be meeting my husband in Kenya the same day she leaves for her safari. The house is nice. The electricity is much stronger here, the sinks are very large (great for doing laundry), and the yard is big and grassy. But the internet connection doesn't work, all of the guests share the bathrooms and for the first time since I've been in Africa, mosquitos are a problem.

We walked around, found a nice grocery store, bought a few things to munch on and then spent the afternoon reading, snacking and napping on the big back porch of the guest house.

The little grocery that we found was pretty amazing to us. It was like a little European market: small but inclusive of all the basic needs. They even had a cheese deli. Cheese, Glorious Cheese!! There was a grand meat counter with cuts of meat that you'd see in the U.S. This was quite a difference from the market we strolled past yesterday afternoon on our walk after I returned from my day with Godfrey.

The markets where the Locals shop are, well... they wouldn't pass our FDA rules. Raw meat lies on wooden tables exposed to flies and dust. Cooked meat lies in the open, exposed to flies and dust. Africans seem to like the 'meat on a stick' concept but I just couldn't bring myself to eat it knowing that it just sits there for who knows how long. If you want chicken for dinner, you choose which chicken you want -- a live chicken. This would never work for me because I would have the thing named before I reached home. I'm not sure if the ones wandering freely through the market are also for sale or if it's just the ones in the cages. ;">

I wondered, too, if people have to pay to rent a space in one of these markets. Farmers obviously bring their produce and set up in a 'booth' because every booth had the same things for sale. Towards the back of the market were large piles of charcoal and even booths selling plastic tubs to be used for washing your dinnerware. I guess this is the Uganda version of a Super Wal-Mart.

> Day 31 - It's my Birthday

Today is my birthday. I would have forgotten but I received a text message from John with birthday greetings. It's a big day for me because I finally get to meet the child that we sponsor!

His name is Godfrey and he is 15 years old. His mother abandoned him when he was a month old. His paternal grandmother was raising him in a village outside of Kampala. But after his father died when Godfrey was 10 years old, his father's sister took Godfrey to live with her and her family in Kampala.

It felt a little strange to go someplace without any of my N. American teammates. I was picked up by the director over child sponsorship (Byron) and he took me to the Bugalobi School. What a joy to see a bunch of the Bugalobi kids there even though they were on a school break after completing their exams! And they were wearing their camp T-shirts! Lots of hugs all around!

John Paul appeared from inside the school and took me to the back of the building. As we started up the stairs, I looked up to see Godfrey coming down the stairs. I grabbed him and hugged him to the point of suffocating the poor boy. He just kept saying to me "God bless you for what you are doing for me... God bless you." He couldn't get past his gratitude and I couldn't get past my need to have my arm around him to convince myself he was real.

We spent some time talking to everyone at the school. All of the teachers were there -- Helen, Isaac, Angelina and Juliette -- and Teacher Helen told me how proud of Godfrey she is. She taught him when he was a student at Bugalobi and continues to follow him now that he has moved on to 7th grade.

Then we drove to where Godfrey lives. His aunt and uncle have 3 children of their own plus they have taken in 3 children from the aunt's siblings who have been abandoned or orphaned. So even though Godfrey is biologically an only child, he refers to his cousins as his brothers and sisters. I met most of them except the youngest who was out with Godfrey's aunt and the oldest child who has married and moved out. I think Godfrey was really disappointed that his aunt wasn't home.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that his house is a real concrete structure. They even have plumbing. Godfrey was wearing a good pair of shoes -- everyone seemed to be dressed in their Sunday best. I showed photos to them that I had brought from home, they showed me some photos, we talked and even sang together, and I presented them with the gifts I had brought. (During our shopping excursion yesterday I picked up some salt, rice, sugar, beans, and soap, plus I had brought a bunch of things from the States for them.) Godfrey disappeared to put on the Texas T-shirt I gave him. Godfrey's uncle wanted to show me around so we went outside to see their garden and their chicken coops. A large portion of the family income is from the sale of the eggs from all of their chickens. Godfrey's uncle is a pastor as well, but I don't know if they make much money from that.

Byron and I then left the house with Godfrey to take him to lunch. I asked him what he wanted to eat and he said "rice". The kid gets rice every day of his life. I was NOT going to feed him rice for lunch! So we went for pizza, which Godfrey had never eaten but quickly decided he liked. We talked a lot but Godfrey was respectful and shy and 15 so I had a little trouble drawing him out. I kept thinking that if I was at home I would have taken him to an amusement park for the day or to a baseball game or something packed with activities and fun. But in Kampala, my options were limited. Still, I was happy to spend any amount of time with him. And I was so encouraged to find him healthy and living in a stable family environment. While his family is doing better than many that I've seen, they are still struggling with some basic needs. I wanted to do so much more for Godfrey. I want to see him finish school and go on to become a happy, successful adult.

I find myself, once again, at the alter praying for a situation that I have no control over and no ability to change. It's another test of my faith to believe that God will meet the needs of this family and care for this young man. I'm learning to have African faith... Africans don't just 'believe' in God's abilities and provisions, they 'expect' them. One person told me that the reason we don't see miracles in the U.S. is because we don't expect them. We pray for them, but we don't really expect to see them. We have too many alternatives. If one thing doesn't work out, we'll solve our crisis in another way.

In Africa, miracles happen all the time. There are no alternatives.

> Day 30 - Candid Conversation

Today was another big impact day for me. It started out fairly blase but by the time I went to bed, I couldn't shut down my brain.

Candice and Jon were up until 5:00 this morning consolidating all of our photos and making copies of dvds for Miriam, Kathy and Molly who left for the airport around 6AM with their still-warm dvds in hand.

John Paul came to the guest house for lunch and then took me, Candice, Jon and Rebecca out for an afternoon of shopping. We took the public taxi for the first time since I've been in Africa which was a big adventure in and of itself. We went downtown to the markets where the Locals shop for everything from electronics to fabric. The stores were densely packed and they seemed to be grouped together by whatever they were selling, e.g., all clothing stores together, all leather goods together, etc. It was crowded, crossing the streets was a major accomplishment (now I understand why Eva said that one of the hardest things for her to get used to when she came back to Uganda after being on tour with the choir was learning how to cross the streets), and finding the little treasures we wanted made for an interesting hunt. Candice was nearly hit by a boda-boda and at times, just maintaining contact with each other in the sea of people was a challenge.


Sandals made from tire treads

To leave downtown we went to the taxi park. Imagine an enormous stadium parking lot with a swarm of mini vans parked so closely that you can barely walk between them, and imagine that you have no idea which one among the thousands of vehicles is 'yours'. That's where we got our transportation to Mark & Sarah's house. Thankfully John Paul knew just where to go in that mass of confusion and we were off in a matter of minutes.

We were a little early for our dinner invitation to Mark & Sarah's so, since it was close, we stopped in at the Choir Academy to hang out with the kids. We played for a little while but then they called all of the boys into the house to get their yellow fever vaccinations, and the girls were next, so we left before all the crying began.

We walked from there to Mark and Sarah's house. Sarah served us chicken in barbeque sauce and to the delight of everyone, a green salad and then freshly baked chocolate chip cookies for dessert!

I started asking Mark questions about the business of running the MFL School and the challenges of working in Uganda. What followed was a several hour conversation in which we heard some of the most eye-opening, sad, frightening, frustrating and encouraging stories that I've heard since I arrived in Africa. I wrote 7 pages in my journal about this day, mostly about this conversation. Out of respect for privacy, I don't want to pour out all of the details. With regards to some of the things I learned about the kids, I have to admit that it's one thing to read about the atrocities or to watch a documentary, but it's a completely different experience to hear the stories about kids you just spent a week with. The things these kids have seen, the things they've experienced...Their lives prior to being asked to join the choir are so beyond our Western realm that it's hard to imagine how any of these kids function normally. Some of them don't function normally.

I'll just tell one story of the young boy who lived with his parents in Rwanda. It was during the genocide, so I can only imagine that soldiers with big guns came into their village and randomly started killing people because both of the boy's parents were killed. And he saw other children -- friends -- being slaughtered right in front of him. Rescued from his shattered life and surroundings, this boy toured with the African Children's Choir and now lives in the Music for Life boarding school. Occasionally the evil of the horrors he experienced over-take him and with no provocation he will walk up to the blackboard where another child is writing a lesson and just start strangling the other child. Afterwards, he has no recollection of any of it.

It's difficult for me to even talk about some of the stuff Mark told us. My heart breaks for the kids. And my admiration for the people who work with these kids every day grew exponentially today. I'm in awe that the kids appeared so 'normal' while we were doing our camp with them. Music for Life has given these kids love and counseling and a safe place to work through their grief and their fears. Never could I have imagined how important the small monthly Sponsor donations are to this school and to these children. The work being done in this school is a strong testiment of love. Mark, Kristine, Sally and the others who work with these kids every day are just regular people, not necessarily trained to deal with all of the issues these kids bring to the table. But they have tremendous compassion and patience. They have dedicated their lives to helping these kids grow up with self-respect, to become productive, educated, transforming citizens of their country, and to be 'good people'.

I fell asleep thinking of the children and grieving for them, but also thinking about the hope they have and feeling encouraged by the opportunities provided to them by Music for Life and all of the other great NGO's that are dedicated to people all over the globe. If we all could expand the world that orbits directly above our own little heads to include more of humanity, more of the flora and fauna of earth, we could accomplish so much more!