This is a farewell... things are wrapping up, and with tears in my eyes I am starting to say good-bye. Tonight we have a farewell dinner with our family, tomorrow we move out, and Thursday morning we leave at 5 am for Rwanda. It has been an incredible semester, and I thank God for the opportunity that I have had to be here and get to know so many incredible people. Every time I say good-bye people ask when I am coming back to Uganda. Most of the time I just stay silent. I want to come back, that much is for sure, but if it will ever happen is definitely not a for-sure thing. God knows best, I smile and sometimes say. Leaving is always bittersweet, though, and I am excited to see all of you. I won't have Internet after we leave for Rwanda, but I'll be home May 7. I see you all then, with pictures and stories galore :)
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Of warthogs and elephants and Easter bunnies
Last week we had a last IMME hurrah… complete with pizza, ice cream, and Princess Bride. I laugh every time I watch that movie, but I have never laughed harder than when someone used the slam “you warthog faced buffoon.” Definitely funnier when three days earlier you saw too many warthogs to count and had them come and stiff your tent while you sleep at night. That was our experience at Queen Elizabeth.
The weekend before, after a crazy long drive down to the park in southwestern Uganda, we got to see not only warthogs but elephants, hippos, water buffalo, cobs (antelope-like animals), a lion, and even a leopard on our safari. The leopard was sweet, the elephants (especially the baby ones!) were amazing, but my favorite part was the hippos… not all of them, but mainly just one—a little baby hippo that was born just five days early. Five days old! It was sooo cute… well, as cute as a hippo can be.
For the whole drive down there, and for the majority of the safari, the same group of us was piled in a jeep with our awesome driver Ronald. We called ourselves “Team Ronald” and decided we had the best driver in Uganda… so we did awesome things for him like writing him a song and saying “Yay Ronald” and screaming and cheering every time he conquered the rocky roads that look completely un-passable. We couldn’t really tell if he truly liked it, or if we were the most obnoxious Americans he had ever met, but he always smiled, so big that you could see it in his eyes through the rearview mirror.
The craziest part of the weekend was not necessarily the safari itself, but our experience camping. In Africa. With all of those crazy animals that we had just seen. I was chilling outside staring at the moon as I read my Bible, when I heard some of the craziest noises. Just as I was reading Psalm 50:10, “For every wild animal of the forest is mine, the cattle on a thousand hills I know all the birds of the air, and all that moves in the field is mine,” I heard a large cat noise. No joke. It was killing something, because I also heard the sound of an animal dying. CRAZY! At that moment Michelle and Katie came running up from behind me, scaring the crap out of me. I thought I was going to be eaten. And that was just the beginning of our night. After all of that, I decided that it I felt a little (not much) safer inside the tent, so we all hide in our sleeping bags from the noises outside. Shortly after, they continued. The warthogs came, sniffing around our tent, sticking their noses right up against the fabric, and making noises as ugly as their faces. A little while later, an elephant. No joke. Elephants are cool, but not when you think they might stampede through your campsite. Its not over though… a while later in the night came a hippo, plodding up from the lakeside and walked right by our tent. It is good that every wild animal of the forest is God’s I am thankful that all that moves in the field is his…
I have tons of pictures, but don’t feel like spending my whole day fighting with the Internet… I’ll be home in three weeks. You can see them then.
This past weekend we had an Easter celebration with our family. Our sister came over, with our three “nieces,” who are super cute, along with William and Eva joining us from Kampala. After the Easter service Sunday morning we had a giant feast with TONS of food. I played with Patricia, Tracy, and Belinda (our nieces) with a little tub of yellow playdough that I brought with me from home. Patricia, the oldest (about 12), loved running her fingers through my hair, braiding it and styling it until she said I was “fit for the cover of a magazine.” They were so cute. It was weird to be away from family at Easter, but I was still surrounded by my new family here. Even more, it was great to be away from the consumerism of America, where Easter wasn’t just about the Easter bunny. It was great for Easter to be completely about resurrection and new life, and about celebrating the life that we have been given with friends and family.
Happy Easter!
The weekend before, after a crazy long drive down to the park in southwestern Uganda, we got to see not only warthogs but elephants, hippos, water buffalo, cobs (antelope-like animals), a lion, and even a leopard on our safari. The leopard was sweet, the elephants (especially the baby ones!) were amazing, but my favorite part was the hippos… not all of them, but mainly just one—a little baby hippo that was born just five days early. Five days old! It was sooo cute… well, as cute as a hippo can be.
For the whole drive down there, and for the majority of the safari, the same group of us was piled in a jeep with our awesome driver Ronald. We called ourselves “Team Ronald” and decided we had the best driver in Uganda… so we did awesome things for him like writing him a song and saying “Yay Ronald” and screaming and cheering every time he conquered the rocky roads that look completely un-passable. We couldn’t really tell if he truly liked it, or if we were the most obnoxious Americans he had ever met, but he always smiled, so big that you could see it in his eyes through the rearview mirror.
The craziest part of the weekend was not necessarily the safari itself, but our experience camping. In Africa. With all of those crazy animals that we had just seen. I was chilling outside staring at the moon as I read my Bible, when I heard some of the craziest noises. Just as I was reading Psalm 50:10, “For every wild animal of the forest is mine, the cattle on a thousand hills I know all the birds of the air, and all that moves in the field is mine,” I heard a large cat noise. No joke. It was killing something, because I also heard the sound of an animal dying. CRAZY! At that moment Michelle and Katie came running up from behind me, scaring the crap out of me. I thought I was going to be eaten. And that was just the beginning of our night. After all of that, I decided that it I felt a little (not much) safer inside the tent, so we all hide in our sleeping bags from the noises outside. Shortly after, they continued. The warthogs came, sniffing around our tent, sticking their noses right up against the fabric, and making noises as ugly as their faces. A little while later, an elephant. No joke. Elephants are cool, but not when you think they might stampede through your campsite. Its not over though… a while later in the night came a hippo, plodding up from the lakeside and walked right by our tent. It is good that every wild animal of the forest is God’s I am thankful that all that moves in the field is his…
I have tons of pictures, but don’t feel like spending my whole day fighting with the Internet… I’ll be home in three weeks. You can see them then.
This past weekend we had an Easter celebration with our family. Our sister came over, with our three “nieces,” who are super cute, along with William and Eva joining us from Kampala. After the Easter service Sunday morning we had a giant feast with TONS of food. I played with Patricia, Tracy, and Belinda (our nieces) with a little tub of yellow playdough that I brought with me from home. Patricia, the oldest (about 12), loved running her fingers through my hair, braiding it and styling it until she said I was “fit for the cover of a magazine.” They were so cute. It was weird to be away from family at Easter, but I was still surrounded by my new family here. Even more, it was great to be away from the consumerism of America, where Easter wasn’t just about the Easter bunny. It was great for Easter to be completely about resurrection and new life, and about celebrating the life that we have been given with friends and family.
Happy Easter!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
It's been a while
Hey guys! Dad has gotten on me for being MIA for a while, so I figured it was about time to try and update this thing again. It’s been kind of hard to get on the Internet much lately. Things are generally winding down here—we only have only 2 more weeks of classes, a week of finals, and then we leave for two weeks in Rwanda learning about the East African Revival and the Rwandan genocide. As far as other excuses for not letting you all know what is going on, Internet was down for almost a week, and I’ve had some general computer problems due to the fact that it is nearly impossible to escape Africa without a virus attacking your computer. But anyway… here’s the latest scoop in Mukono:
Two weekends ago was one of the most impacting weekends we have had since we got here. We took a trip to Luweero, a district about 2 hours north of here, to visit some Ugandans who are doing some great ministry, and “Jesus Cares,” a ministry that cares for families affected by HIV/AIDS. It was definitely an incredible weekend.
Early Saturday morning we met Ruth, the daughter of the couple who started the “Jesus Cares” ministry. Together, the couple and their 4 sons and daughters have created a ministry that cares for 6 families who are some of the worst struck with HIV/AIDS. Most of the families are child-headed households, where both parents have been lost to the disease leaving one of their kids, sometimes not even 15 years old, to care for the younger brothers and sisters. In two of the families the mothers are still living, but both women are HIV positive and one is bed ridden. The other mother we had the opportunity to meet. Ruth and her family provide things like milk, eggs, bread, and more to the families, along with counseling for the kids affected and fun VBS-type. This is where we came in…
All day Saturday we got to play with the kids in the 6 families (about 30 kids altogether) and another handful of kids from the neighborhood (probably another 30). While the ministry of “Jesus Cares” was originally intended just for those families affected with HIV/AIDS, they realized that people in the village began looking at the kids who came on Saturdays and seeing them as the “AIDS kids. Sadly, there is a huge stigma associated with being HIV positive. To help solve that problem, the family decided to invite all of the neighborhood kids too.
When we first got there we sang some songs for the kids, and then a few of the girls sang some songs for us too. Just after we divided into four groups (Alpha, Omega, Peace, and Unity) with all of us mixed in. I found myself in the awesome “Unity” group, filled with 25 awesome kids and about 6 of us. Pretty much all day I sat with this beautiful girl on my lap, who loved to pet the hairs on my foreign arms. Sadly, I never actually learned her name… she told me several times, but all I could manage to pronounce and remember was Na________. But while I may have forgotten her name, I will never forget her.
So with our groups, we led some crazy, fun, and goofy competitive games between the four groups. Most of them involved relay-type activities, but my personal favorite was the matooke-peeling race, which I found myself involved in. Haha at least I had some practice at rural homestays! As I kneeled, peeling my 7-ish banana, all of the kids suddenly crowded around me. My hands were shaking, but it was SO funny. They were screaming, cheering, and chanting, and suddenly I realized that some people were saying, “You are Baganda. You are Baganda.” Haha. After being here 3 months and often feeling like I really don’t belong, I don’t think there could have been a more incredible compliment! There were many other awesome competitions involved in the day, and we tried to keep the energy high with our chanting and cheering. It was so much fun. After lunch each of the 4 groups performed a traditional Baganda dance and song that members of our group had taught us earlier. That was definitely interesting. Let me tell you what… Baganda dancing has lots of hip action involved. It was probably one of the funniest things we had seen. When it all was over, Unity came out victorious, and we congratulated our kids before getting back on the bus to drive back to the guest house. The whole day was great, and I pray that we brought encouragement and joy to them, as much as they did to us.
Something I still am inspired by is the fact that this whole ministry is run by one family. When Ruth came to talk to us before we left to go meet the kids, she explained how she works full-time in Kampala and comes home every weekend to work with her family and the “Jesus Cares” families. The other incredible part: the program, including the support of the 6 families is funded by the members of this one family giving their 10% tithe to the ministry. That to me is amazing! Is that not what the church is all about… in Acts it says that there were no needy among them. What if that were true for the church today? If we all took our offerings to the Lord seriously, could it happen?
Saturday night we said good-bye to the USE students who live on campus, and all of us in IMME went back to the guest house to meet Father Gerald. Father Gerry is an incredible man of God who has more compassion than any other person I have ever met. It was so amazing to hear the things that God is doing in Luweero, and Sunday morning we got to attend mass at one of the congregations in his parish. The service was all in Luganda and pretty much impossible to understand, but it was still incredible. You could see the joy in Father Gerald as he ministered to his people.
Its been quite a while now since coming back from Luweero, and a lot has happened here, but I am realizing now how long this has gotten, so that will have to be saved for another day. Things are definitely winding down, and we are getting incredibly sad at the quickly approaching day when we have to say good-bye to our families. This weekend we’re headed to Queen Elizabeth National Park and Game Reserve for a weekend of camping and a safari, the next weekend is Easter, and the following weekend is our last in Mukono before heading to Rwanda. Crazy!
Two weekends ago was one of the most impacting weekends we have had since we got here. We took a trip to Luweero, a district about 2 hours north of here, to visit some Ugandans who are doing some great ministry, and “Jesus Cares,” a ministry that cares for families affected by HIV/AIDS. It was definitely an incredible weekend.
Early Saturday morning we met Ruth, the daughter of the couple who started the “Jesus Cares” ministry. Together, the couple and their 4 sons and daughters have created a ministry that cares for 6 families who are some of the worst struck with HIV/AIDS. Most of the families are child-headed households, where both parents have been lost to the disease leaving one of their kids, sometimes not even 15 years old, to care for the younger brothers and sisters. In two of the families the mothers are still living, but both women are HIV positive and one is bed ridden. The other mother we had the opportunity to meet. Ruth and her family provide things like milk, eggs, bread, and more to the families, along with counseling for the kids affected and fun VBS-type. This is where we came in…
All day Saturday we got to play with the kids in the 6 families (about 30 kids altogether) and another handful of kids from the neighborhood (probably another 30). While the ministry of “Jesus Cares” was originally intended just for those families affected with HIV/AIDS, they realized that people in the village began looking at the kids who came on Saturdays and seeing them as the “AIDS kids. Sadly, there is a huge stigma associated with being HIV positive. To help solve that problem, the family decided to invite all of the neighborhood kids too.
When we first got there we sang some songs for the kids, and then a few of the girls sang some songs for us too. Just after we divided into four groups (Alpha, Omega, Peace, and Unity) with all of us mixed in. I found myself in the awesome “Unity” group, filled with 25 awesome kids and about 6 of us. Pretty much all day I sat with this beautiful girl on my lap, who loved to pet the hairs on my foreign arms. Sadly, I never actually learned her name… she told me several times, but all I could manage to pronounce and remember was Na________. But while I may have forgotten her name, I will never forget her.
So with our groups, we led some crazy, fun, and goofy competitive games between the four groups. Most of them involved relay-type activities, but my personal favorite was the matooke-peeling race, which I found myself involved in. Haha at least I had some practice at rural homestays! As I kneeled, peeling my 7-ish banana, all of the kids suddenly crowded around me. My hands were shaking, but it was SO funny. They were screaming, cheering, and chanting, and suddenly I realized that some people were saying, “You are Baganda. You are Baganda.” Haha. After being here 3 months and often feeling like I really don’t belong, I don’t think there could have been a more incredible compliment! There were many other awesome competitions involved in the day, and we tried to keep the energy high with our chanting and cheering. It was so much fun. After lunch each of the 4 groups performed a traditional Baganda dance and song that members of our group had taught us earlier. That was definitely interesting. Let me tell you what… Baganda dancing has lots of hip action involved. It was probably one of the funniest things we had seen. When it all was over, Unity came out victorious, and we congratulated our kids before getting back on the bus to drive back to the guest house. The whole day was great, and I pray that we brought encouragement and joy to them, as much as they did to us.
Something I still am inspired by is the fact that this whole ministry is run by one family. When Ruth came to talk to us before we left to go meet the kids, she explained how she works full-time in Kampala and comes home every weekend to work with her family and the “Jesus Cares” families. The other incredible part: the program, including the support of the 6 families is funded by the members of this one family giving their 10% tithe to the ministry. That to me is amazing! Is that not what the church is all about… in Acts it says that there were no needy among them. What if that were true for the church today? If we all took our offerings to the Lord seriously, could it happen?
Saturday night we said good-bye to the USE students who live on campus, and all of us in IMME went back to the guest house to meet Father Gerald. Father Gerry is an incredible man of God who has more compassion than any other person I have ever met. It was so amazing to hear the things that God is doing in Luweero, and Sunday morning we got to attend mass at one of the congregations in his parish. The service was all in Luganda and pretty much impossible to understand, but it was still incredible. You could see the joy in Father Gerald as he ministered to his people.
Its been quite a while now since coming back from Luweero, and a lot has happened here, but I am realizing now how long this has gotten, so that will have to be saved for another day. Things are definitely winding down, and we are getting incredibly sad at the quickly approaching day when we have to say good-bye to our families. This weekend we’re headed to Queen Elizabeth National Park and Game Reserve for a weekend of camping and a safari, the next weekend is Easter, and the following weekend is our last in Mukono before heading to Rwanda. Crazy!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
I battled the Nile... and WON
Wow. What a crazy weekend. Really, I just have no idea where to start. We traveled as a group to Jinja (the source of the Nile where we spent a weekend toward the beginning of the semester) for some Nile adventures... a.k.a. white water rafting and bungee jumping. It was CRAZY. Really, there is no other word.
I had been rafting before in the States, but I am pretty sure it was nothing like this. We opted for the all-day class V rapids, which is kind of strange to think that the Nile, which is incredibly calm in some areas, has class V rapids. But let me tell you, it does, and they're intense! After a grand 5-10 minutes of orientation (no joke, it was the shortest orientation ever... and most of it was consumed with giving us life jackets and helmets... but those are pretty important, so its all good) the 25-ish of us and another 15-ish other people piled into open trucks for the drive from our hostel to the river. Then it was time for organizing into rafts-- our raft, "team henry" (Henry was our awesome Ugandan river guide) consisted of Laura, Megan, Tim, Kelsey, and myself. Pretty sweet raft if you ask me.
The river was flat at first, and we got a little bit of still water practice before attacking the rapids. We learned all the commands from Henry-- easy forward, backpaddle, hard forward, lean in, and my personal favorite, "GET DOWN!" We also got a few more words about saftey on the river, including about the safety kayaks that followed us all the way down the river. Nathan, a guide in a different raft, was showing us how to grab on to the kayak if we ended up getting rescued. He showed us a handle on the front of the kayak and said, "don't pull this handle." We looked at him, some people a little confused, and he explained by saying, "if you pull this [insert guide's name here... I can't remember] will not like it. His cover will come off and he might not be wearing any clothes" Haha even though all of the kayaker's were wearing pants... but it gets better. Allie, stop reading. This is PG (maybe PG 13?) rated. Then he said, "and you will see his black mamba and be jealous. You don't want that image for the rest of your life." Yeah... our guides made the trip entertaining :) Seriously though, they were the coolest.
We also practiced fun things like tipping the raft rightside-up for when it gets flipped and attempting to get back into the raft once you are in the water, which believe it or not was the hardest thing we learned. Our final test... swimming (or rather floating) through the first class I rapid. Luckily we all survived :)
We all jumped (or rather flopped) back onto the raft to get ready for the big ones... which we conquered like we were professionals. One of the rapids that we went on was called 50/50 (meaning you have a 50% chance of flipping), but we were literally the only raft that didn't tip. We told Henry that they needed to re-name the rapid to something like 95/5. Really, we were a little disappointed-- they were great fun and got our hearts beating rather quickly don't get me wrong, but as we watched ALL of the other rafts flip upside down, we wondered when it would be our turn. But it was coming...
A while down the river we went on this intense rapid and flipped completely over... exactly what we had been hoping for :) But during the time I was in the water, I wasn't exactly smiling. It was so intense. I really have no idea what happened... we flipped over, I was under the raft at some point, and then an undercurrent dragged me from under the boat and I was under water. During our little safety talk at the beginning of the river they told us that downtime in the Nile is about 10 seconds... meaning you could stay under that long (but probably not longer) before the life jacket brought you to the top. So there I was, under the water, feeling the weight of the rapid all around me, my lungs already starting to burn. Anyone can hold their breath for 10 seconds, I thought... 10 seconds isn't that long. I started counting... 1...2...3...4...5...6...7... the first 7 seconds went by pretty fast and I thought, "I can do this"... 8...9... suddenly the last 3 seconds felt more like 3 minutes... and then I felt the top of my head surface, and I flung my face out of the water to gasp for breath before getting dragged back under and pulled further downstream. Funny thing? I loved it. Well, maybe not around that 9th second, but afterwards I did... when I was back in the raft. Before we went, some people who had gone before told us that this rafting trip was one of the scariest things they had ever done... and that they seriously thought they would die. All we could say was: "yes! lest do this!" Haha. We have serious thrill issues.
Our other flip was a little less terrifying, but definitely fun. The good part was that I held on to the safety rope around the raft the whole time so while there was still a lot of getting thrown around, I wasn't under the water for near as long... and I didn't have a long swim fighting the current to get back to the raft. That was nice. We lost Tim on that rapid though... but a Kayak picked him up and put him on another raft until we got far enough downstream to meet up with them.
So all together we tackled something like 12 rapids, 4 of them class V, and it was one of the most fun things I had done... until the next day...
Sunday was bungee jumping day. Crazy. I went bungee jumping. On the Nile. Ahh! When we first got to the tower, I was terrified, and pretty sure I would chicken out if I didn't pay quickly. Once I gave them my money there was no going back. We all climbed up to the top, and I watched a few people go in front of me. Before I knew it, it was my turn. The man who ran the company was Australian, and luckily his voice had a way of calming my nerves (hurray great accents!) He asked me if I wanted to hit the water and I replied "yeah," sounding way more confident than I really was. "You sound pretty sure of yourself," He replied, "Want a lot of water?" "Uhhhh... maybe just an average amount"
I stood on the scale and the figured out how much rope based on my weight and I sat on a little chair while they wrapped my ankles with a towel for comfort and a strap to hold me to the bungee cord. As a Ugandan man tied me up the Australian, Jack, explained a few things... "When you hit the water, make sure your hands are in front of you and your head tucked in. If not, its a guaranteed two black eyes" Ouch. That didn't sound fun. Feet tied together tightly I jumped to the edge of the tower... and SLOWLY lowered my hands. Before I knew it he was counting down from three and I had no time to think before jumping face first off the edge.
It was an exhilerating and thrilling experience... really there are no words to explain it. You feel like you're flying and falling, all at the same time. Suddenly my hands hit the water, but it wasn't enough warning, and my eyes were still open. I plunged into the Nile up to my ankles, and then was jerked back up, contacts swirling in my eyes (thankfully, they stayed in my eyes... and my shirt, which I thought for a second was going to get left in the Nile, stayed on my body). After bouncing in the air several times I got lowered down into the raft where two more Ugandans untied me and paddled the raft to the edge. Defintely the experience of a lifetime... and I'm alive to talk about it :)
I have a video of my jumping experience... but sadly it won't load... maybe another day!
I had been rafting before in the States, but I am pretty sure it was nothing like this. We opted for the all-day class V rapids, which is kind of strange to think that the Nile, which is incredibly calm in some areas, has class V rapids. But let me tell you, it does, and they're intense! After a grand 5-10 minutes of orientation (no joke, it was the shortest orientation ever... and most of it was consumed with giving us life jackets and helmets... but those are pretty important, so its all good) the 25-ish of us and another 15-ish other people piled into open trucks for the drive from our hostel to the river. Then it was time for organizing into rafts-- our raft, "team henry" (Henry was our awesome Ugandan river guide) consisted of Laura, Megan, Tim, Kelsey, and myself. Pretty sweet raft if you ask me.
The river was flat at first, and we got a little bit of still water practice before attacking the rapids. We learned all the commands from Henry-- easy forward, backpaddle, hard forward, lean in, and my personal favorite, "GET DOWN!" We also got a few more words about saftey on the river, including about the safety kayaks that followed us all the way down the river. Nathan, a guide in a different raft, was showing us how to grab on to the kayak if we ended up getting rescued. He showed us a handle on the front of the kayak and said, "don't pull this handle." We looked at him, some people a little confused, and he explained by saying, "if you pull this [insert guide's name here... I can't remember] will not like it. His cover will come off and he might not be wearing any clothes" Haha even though all of the kayaker's were wearing pants... but it gets better. Allie, stop reading. This is PG (maybe PG 13?) rated. Then he said, "and you will see his black mamba and be jealous. You don't want that image for the rest of your life." Yeah... our guides made the trip entertaining :) Seriously though, they were the coolest.
We also practiced fun things like tipping the raft rightside-up for when it gets flipped and attempting to get back into the raft once you are in the water, which believe it or not was the hardest thing we learned. Our final test... swimming (or rather floating) through the first class I rapid. Luckily we all survived :)
We all jumped (or rather flopped) back onto the raft to get ready for the big ones... which we conquered like we were professionals. One of the rapids that we went on was called 50/50 (meaning you have a 50% chance of flipping), but we were literally the only raft that didn't tip. We told Henry that they needed to re-name the rapid to something like 95/5. Really, we were a little disappointed-- they were great fun and got our hearts beating rather quickly don't get me wrong, but as we watched ALL of the other rafts flip upside down, we wondered when it would be our turn. But it was coming...
A while down the river we went on this intense rapid and flipped completely over... exactly what we had been hoping for :) But during the time I was in the water, I wasn't exactly smiling. It was so intense. I really have no idea what happened... we flipped over, I was under the raft at some point, and then an undercurrent dragged me from under the boat and I was under water. During our little safety talk at the beginning of the river they told us that downtime in the Nile is about 10 seconds... meaning you could stay under that long (but probably not longer) before the life jacket brought you to the top. So there I was, under the water, feeling the weight of the rapid all around me, my lungs already starting to burn. Anyone can hold their breath for 10 seconds, I thought... 10 seconds isn't that long. I started counting... 1...2...3...4...5...6...7... the first 7 seconds went by pretty fast and I thought, "I can do this"... 8...9... suddenly the last 3 seconds felt more like 3 minutes... and then I felt the top of my head surface, and I flung my face out of the water to gasp for breath before getting dragged back under and pulled further downstream. Funny thing? I loved it. Well, maybe not around that 9th second, but afterwards I did... when I was back in the raft. Before we went, some people who had gone before told us that this rafting trip was one of the scariest things they had ever done... and that they seriously thought they would die. All we could say was: "yes! lest do this!" Haha. We have serious thrill issues.
Our other flip was a little less terrifying, but definitely fun. The good part was that I held on to the safety rope around the raft the whole time so while there was still a lot of getting thrown around, I wasn't under the water for near as long... and I didn't have a long swim fighting the current to get back to the raft. That was nice. We lost Tim on that rapid though... but a Kayak picked him up and put him on another raft until we got far enough downstream to meet up with them.
So all together we tackled something like 12 rapids, 4 of them class V, and it was one of the most fun things I had done... until the next day...
Sunday was bungee jumping day. Crazy. I went bungee jumping. On the Nile. Ahh! When we first got to the tower, I was terrified, and pretty sure I would chicken out if I didn't pay quickly. Once I gave them my money there was no going back. We all climbed up to the top, and I watched a few people go in front of me. Before I knew it, it was my turn. The man who ran the company was Australian, and luckily his voice had a way of calming my nerves (hurray great accents!) He asked me if I wanted to hit the water and I replied "yeah," sounding way more confident than I really was. "You sound pretty sure of yourself," He replied, "Want a lot of water?" "Uhhhh... maybe just an average amount"
I stood on the scale and the figured out how much rope based on my weight and I sat on a little chair while they wrapped my ankles with a towel for comfort and a strap to hold me to the bungee cord. As a Ugandan man tied me up the Australian, Jack, explained a few things... "When you hit the water, make sure your hands are in front of you and your head tucked in. If not, its a guaranteed two black eyes" Ouch. That didn't sound fun. Feet tied together tightly I jumped to the edge of the tower... and SLOWLY lowered my hands. Before I knew it he was counting down from three and I had no time to think before jumping face first off the edge.
It was an exhilerating and thrilling experience... really there are no words to explain it. You feel like you're flying and falling, all at the same time. Suddenly my hands hit the water, but it wasn't enough warning, and my eyes were still open. I plunged into the Nile up to my ankles, and then was jerked back up, contacts swirling in my eyes (thankfully, they stayed in my eyes... and my shirt, which I thought for a second was going to get left in the Nile, stayed on my body). After bouncing in the air several times I got lowered down into the raft where two more Ugandans untied me and paddled the raft to the edge. Defintely the experience of a lifetime... and I'm alive to talk about it :)
I have a video of my jumping experience... but sadly it won't load... maybe another day!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
sipi falls-- the beauty of Creation
After our rural homestays we met up with everyone and some of the honors college students at UCU to stay at a little "resort" for debriefing and to see Sipi falls. It was BEAUTIFUL. We went on a hike that lasted pretty much all day to see the waterfalls, including climbing on the mossy, wet rocks to get behind them. Sooo much fun!
Laura, Megan, Nichole, and I.
The waterfall was sooo amazing.
Yeah... this one I'm not sure about ;)
At the second waterfall that we went to there was a little place up the stream to go swimming. It was soooo cold, but very refreshing.
Probably the coolest swing I've ever seen... the view was AMAZING!
I decided to take advantage of one of the only days I wasn't wearing a skirt... and climb a tree :)
Laura, Megan, Nichole, and I.
The waterfall was sooo amazing.
Yeah... this one I'm not sure about ;)
At the second waterfall that we went to there was a little place up the stream to go swimming. It was soooo cold, but very refreshing.
Probably the coolest swing I've ever seen... the view was AMAZING!
I decided to take advantage of one of the only days I wasn't wearing a skirt... and climb a tree :)
Monday, March 9, 2009
pictures!
My sister, Phyllis, in Kapchorwa town.
One day Phyllis and I walked in to Kapchorwa town, which was about 6-7 Km. from our house... a long but BEAUTIFUL walk. On the way home we got followed by all these kids who really wanted their picture taken.
Once upon a time... I killed a chicken.
Jeremy with our neighbor, Esther.
My sister, Rachel, finishing up plucking and cleaning the chicken (that I had just killed)
The sweetest stove I've ever seen. It was built up out of the same dried cow dung mixture as the whole kitchen hut. The green banana leaves in the right pot are wrapped around the matooke.
Jeremy with the balloon that I had just given him. He played with it ALL day and cried when it blew too far down the hill to reach :(
I thought that this tree was awesome! I wanted to climb it, but my dad didn't really like that idea.
Jeremy and a neighbor, Vince, enjoying the pop rocks that I brought. They were so cute! The would shove a pile in their mouths and then run around the yard yelling, "pop pop pop pop pop!"Friday, March 6, 2009
Kapchorwa
Sorry it has taken me so long to actually get an update on here! It has been a crazy week coming back to life at UCU, and for some reason posting to the bog hasn’t worked out with the Internet either. But I am crossing my fingers that it works today!
A week ago we piled into vans to start the 5 hour drive to Kapchorwa, a rural village in the Mbale district towards the East. It was a week I will never forget, and a week that is not easily put into words on a blog. Everyone in the family that I stayed with was really nice, but the week was still hard and made me miss all of you and my family in Mukono more than I ever could have imagined. My Dad, Patrick, was great—he actually talked to me, asking questions about America and sharing cultural stuff about Kapchorwa. The only problem was that he was gone working a lot of the day, and I was left at home. My Mom’s name was Violet, and she was also very nice. She had just had an operation for goiter, though, and was still recovering, so I didn’t really have very much of a chance to get to know her. My little brother was one of my favorite people in Kapchorwa. His name was Jeremy, and he was 3. He didn’t know any English, but that didn’t even matter much. All day he would say “Liw-a-beff, choo,” which translated means “Elizabeth, come,” and so I would follow him random places around the compound. I also had two “sisters,” who were actually my Dad’s nieces that were around to help out while my Mom was recovering from the operation. There names were Rachel and Phyllis, and they were both about high school aged. Sometimes they seemed talkative and we would talk and laugh, but most of the time they just talked in Kupsabiny to other people who stopped by for a few hours.
A few crazy things that I did in my week that I NEVER thought I would do/ a few things I could have imagined but were pretty interesting anyway…
1. I slaughtered a chicken. For those of you who are weak in the stomach skip the details and go down to the next bullet… but for those of you who are interested here’s a little bit more. I literally stepped on its feet and its wings and sawed off its head with a dull kitchen knife. Sick. I never thought I could do it, and my family thought it was REALLY funny that I was so scared. But I did it and I even helped pluck off the beak and feathers at the end.
2. I ate the gizzard of the chicken I just killed. That was interesting too. It wasn’t too bad, just a little too chewy. They always serve the gizzard to guests. Hospitality is huge in the culture, and I am pretty sure that if chicken’s had ten gizzards they would still give them all to the guest. I thanked God in my prayer for dinner that night that he made chickens with only one gizzard.
3. I ate. A lot. Like more that you could possibly imagine. Remember the part about being really hospitable? Yeah, that definitely came in to play with the food. My family served me sooo much food all the time, and I would try so hard to eat it because it would be really rude to refuse. Sometimes I wanted to cry when they put food in front of me! After I would eat a huge meal, my dad or sister would ask, “I add you more?” But sometimes it wasn’t even a question, it would just be, “I add you more” period. End of discussion.
4. I helped “smear” our kitchen hut. Houses/ huts in Kapchorwa were generally made out of mud and dung. So I guess every once in a while as upkeep you have to re-smear the floor of the hut. This consisted of hiking up the giant hill that our house was on to the cows and collecting some nice fresh (still warm) cow poo, mixing it with some sand-type stuff, smearing it all over the floor, and waiting for it to dry. Definitely an experience I will never forget! The amazing thing is that once it is dry it doesn’t even smell.
5. I carried things on my head. Lots of things in fact… well, mainly just two—jerry cans of water and matooke (aka giant bushels of plantains). As far as the water goes, I would go with one of my sisters nearly every day, and most of the time 3 or 4 times a day to walk about 20-30 minutes up and down this big hill to get to the well for water. It was definitely tiring, and they wouldn’t even let me carry the biggest jerry can! As far as the matooke… my dad, like most in Kapchorwa, grew lots of matooke, a lot to feed the family but some to sell also. One day it was really windy and the wind was knocking over all of the trees. “Come, we go,” my dad said, and I followed him to go and harvest some of the matooke so that it wouldn’t fall off in the wind. We chopped at the tree until they fell and carried them to the road on our heads. They were going to take them all to Mbale to sell.
6. I listened to the radio 24/7. This was definitely something I did not expect, due to the fact that there was no electricity, but my family LOVED the radio. It began blaring at 4 or 5 in the morning, and usually didn’t get turned off until 10 or 11. (I don’t think my family ever slept). The music was definitely interesting… my favorite sequence consisted of a song in Swahili, Point of Grace, Lion King, and Kelly Clarkson, all in a row. No one but me thought it was funny.
7. I milked a cow. I wasn’t very good at it, but I had several times to practice. We milked our three cows twice a day, which provided enough milk for #8.
8. I drank the same amount of tea that got thrown into the bay at the Boston tea party. Ok, this might be a slight exaggeration, but I don’t think it is by too much. Literally anytime was tea time in Kapchorwa! (The milk mentioned above is because African tea is different than we think of in the States. It is loose tea leaves brewed with milk an tons of sugar). One day I counted how many cups of tea I drank…. 9! The main reason that you always drank so much is because every new home you visited served the guests tea. The day that I drank 9 cups of tea happened to be the first day that I was there and my dad paraded me around to visit nearly all of his family.
9. I talked American politics. This was kind of interesting, because I honestly don’t talk politics that much even in the States, but in nearly every conversation (at least with the men, not so much with the women) it came up. It was kind of funny the range of knowledge that these men had about America. Some of them knew more than I honestly did about the election; others of them asked me if Switzerland was close to where I lived in America.
10. I was present. This, really, is the biggest thing that I did. Looking at all of the above things, it looks like I did a lot with my week, but really, when it comes down to it, life in the village (especially during the dry season like it was when we were there) is far slower than life in America or even in Mukono. There is an African proverb that says, “Presence is the debt that we owe to each other.” More than anything, this is what I learned in Kapchorwa, and while it sounds incredibly easy to sit and do nothing but just “be present,” I learned that it is one of the hardest things to do. Some of the time we chatted in English, which was GREAT, but most of the time my presence in Kapchorwa consisted more sitting than chatting—either because they all spoke in Kupsabiny or because we just sat without even saying much of anything. More than anything else, this is what made my time in Kapchorwa so difficult. It is hard to be so close to an incredible community while being so far removed from it. During my time that I was missing all of you so much, I was praying hard as well—thanking God for all of the relationships he has given me.
I tried to upload pictures... only three worked. Hopefully I can get the others up here soon!
My Mom, Violet (left) with one of my Dad's mom's (center, explanation-- my Dad's dad was polygamous), and a neighbor (right)
My little brother Jeremy with my Dad, Patrick, in the cave that was behind our house
A week ago we piled into vans to start the 5 hour drive to Kapchorwa, a rural village in the Mbale district towards the East. It was a week I will never forget, and a week that is not easily put into words on a blog. Everyone in the family that I stayed with was really nice, but the week was still hard and made me miss all of you and my family in Mukono more than I ever could have imagined. My Dad, Patrick, was great—he actually talked to me, asking questions about America and sharing cultural stuff about Kapchorwa. The only problem was that he was gone working a lot of the day, and I was left at home. My Mom’s name was Violet, and she was also very nice. She had just had an operation for goiter, though, and was still recovering, so I didn’t really have very much of a chance to get to know her. My little brother was one of my favorite people in Kapchorwa. His name was Jeremy, and he was 3. He didn’t know any English, but that didn’t even matter much. All day he would say “Liw-a-beff, choo,” which translated means “Elizabeth, come,” and so I would follow him random places around the compound. I also had two “sisters,” who were actually my Dad’s nieces that were around to help out while my Mom was recovering from the operation. There names were Rachel and Phyllis, and they were both about high school aged. Sometimes they seemed talkative and we would talk and laugh, but most of the time they just talked in Kupsabiny to other people who stopped by for a few hours.
A few crazy things that I did in my week that I NEVER thought I would do/ a few things I could have imagined but were pretty interesting anyway…
1. I slaughtered a chicken. For those of you who are weak in the stomach skip the details and go down to the next bullet… but for those of you who are interested here’s a little bit more. I literally stepped on its feet and its wings and sawed off its head with a dull kitchen knife. Sick. I never thought I could do it, and my family thought it was REALLY funny that I was so scared. But I did it and I even helped pluck off the beak and feathers at the end.
2. I ate the gizzard of the chicken I just killed. That was interesting too. It wasn’t too bad, just a little too chewy. They always serve the gizzard to guests. Hospitality is huge in the culture, and I am pretty sure that if chicken’s had ten gizzards they would still give them all to the guest. I thanked God in my prayer for dinner that night that he made chickens with only one gizzard.
3. I ate. A lot. Like more that you could possibly imagine. Remember the part about being really hospitable? Yeah, that definitely came in to play with the food. My family served me sooo much food all the time, and I would try so hard to eat it because it would be really rude to refuse. Sometimes I wanted to cry when they put food in front of me! After I would eat a huge meal, my dad or sister would ask, “I add you more?” But sometimes it wasn’t even a question, it would just be, “I add you more” period. End of discussion.
4. I helped “smear” our kitchen hut. Houses/ huts in Kapchorwa were generally made out of mud and dung. So I guess every once in a while as upkeep you have to re-smear the floor of the hut. This consisted of hiking up the giant hill that our house was on to the cows and collecting some nice fresh (still warm) cow poo, mixing it with some sand-type stuff, smearing it all over the floor, and waiting for it to dry. Definitely an experience I will never forget! The amazing thing is that once it is dry it doesn’t even smell.
5. I carried things on my head. Lots of things in fact… well, mainly just two—jerry cans of water and matooke (aka giant bushels of plantains). As far as the water goes, I would go with one of my sisters nearly every day, and most of the time 3 or 4 times a day to walk about 20-30 minutes up and down this big hill to get to the well for water. It was definitely tiring, and they wouldn’t even let me carry the biggest jerry can! As far as the matooke… my dad, like most in Kapchorwa, grew lots of matooke, a lot to feed the family but some to sell also. One day it was really windy and the wind was knocking over all of the trees. “Come, we go,” my dad said, and I followed him to go and harvest some of the matooke so that it wouldn’t fall off in the wind. We chopped at the tree until they fell and carried them to the road on our heads. They were going to take them all to Mbale to sell.
6. I listened to the radio 24/7. This was definitely something I did not expect, due to the fact that there was no electricity, but my family LOVED the radio. It began blaring at 4 or 5 in the morning, and usually didn’t get turned off until 10 or 11. (I don’t think my family ever slept). The music was definitely interesting… my favorite sequence consisted of a song in Swahili, Point of Grace, Lion King, and Kelly Clarkson, all in a row. No one but me thought it was funny.
7. I milked a cow. I wasn’t very good at it, but I had several times to practice. We milked our three cows twice a day, which provided enough milk for #8.
8. I drank the same amount of tea that got thrown into the bay at the Boston tea party. Ok, this might be a slight exaggeration, but I don’t think it is by too much. Literally anytime was tea time in Kapchorwa! (The milk mentioned above is because African tea is different than we think of in the States. It is loose tea leaves brewed with milk an tons of sugar). One day I counted how many cups of tea I drank…. 9! The main reason that you always drank so much is because every new home you visited served the guests tea. The day that I drank 9 cups of tea happened to be the first day that I was there and my dad paraded me around to visit nearly all of his family.
9. I talked American politics. This was kind of interesting, because I honestly don’t talk politics that much even in the States, but in nearly every conversation (at least with the men, not so much with the women) it came up. It was kind of funny the range of knowledge that these men had about America. Some of them knew more than I honestly did about the election; others of them asked me if Switzerland was close to where I lived in America.
10. I was present. This, really, is the biggest thing that I did. Looking at all of the above things, it looks like I did a lot with my week, but really, when it comes down to it, life in the village (especially during the dry season like it was when we were there) is far slower than life in America or even in Mukono. There is an African proverb that says, “Presence is the debt that we owe to each other.” More than anything, this is what I learned in Kapchorwa, and while it sounds incredibly easy to sit and do nothing but just “be present,” I learned that it is one of the hardest things to do. Some of the time we chatted in English, which was GREAT, but most of the time my presence in Kapchorwa consisted more sitting than chatting—either because they all spoke in Kupsabiny or because we just sat without even saying much of anything. More than anything else, this is what made my time in Kapchorwa so difficult. It is hard to be so close to an incredible community while being so far removed from it. During my time that I was missing all of you so much, I was praying hard as well—thanking God for all of the relationships he has given me.
I tried to upload pictures... only three worked. Hopefully I can get the others up here soon!
Carrying Matooke.
My Mom, Violet (left) with one of my Dad's mom's (center, explanation-- my Dad's dad was polygamous), and a neighbor (right)
My little brother Jeremy with my Dad, Patrick, in the cave that was behind our house
Monday, March 2, 2009
I'm back
Well, I'm back in Mukono after a crazy 10 day adventure in Kapchorwa, a rural village towards the eastern border with Kenya. My time with my family was one of the hardest weeks of my life, but also one of the most incredible opportunities. I don't have time to tell you all much right now, though, because I am back at UCU and realizing that I am a little behind on all of the homework that I should have done before I left. (i.e. I have a pretty big history paper due tomorrow that I haven't started!) Sometimes I forget that I am actually in school while I am here. Anyway... I'll do my homework and try to get a post up here with stories and pictures in the next day or so.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
home sweet home
A while back I made a video tour of my house to show you all... but after trying three times now to load it I have officially given up. Sorry! Hopefully I can show it to a bunch of you when I get home. So intstead, here's a few pictures because they're easier to post.
For one of our classes, Faith and Action, we write short papers throughout the semester, designed to help process different things that we experience/ talk about. One that we wrote was about stereotypes about Africa that have changed because of our time with our host families:
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Sometimes when I walk through the streets I feel like I am in a fishbowl. “Muzungu! Bye Muzungu!” all the children scream with hands constantly waving, and I find myself wondering what all my white skin represents for them. Wealth? Prosperity? The Land of Opportunity? It is more than likely all of them. Can we blame the Ugandans for having stereotypes about Americans, though? Do we not have our own about them?
When I was preparing to come here, I always laughed at the reactions from other people. They all thought it was great that I was studying abroad, but their minds immediately jumped to Europe or some place like that. “No, I’m going to Uganda,” I would reply. “Uganda? Isn’t that in Africa?” Many would ask, “Are there even colleges there?” Can I really blame them for having stereotypes about Ugandans, though? Do we all not have images of Africa, shaped by things like relief commercials with starving children, malnourished bellies pushed out?
While my own stereotypes of Africa were not as extreme, they were still present. I had talked to a few other students who came to Uganda to study, which helped me to better understand what I was getting into. Even still, after living with my family for three weeks my stereotypes have already been shattered. Most of them were eliminated after just a few days.
Walking into my house for the first time, I was shocked. Instead of the few plain rooms that I was expecting to see, I saw a large, decorated, and brightly painted house. On the ceilings, I saw light bulbs; on the walls, light switches that worked; and on the floor in the sitting room, carpet. Much to my surprise I also saw separate rooms for bathing and the toilet, both inside of the house. I was quite happy, actually, to see that we do not have a television, but each morning I continue to find myself laughing to hear American music coming from the radio. Even more, there was a final surprise—the separate cell phones that my mom and several of my brothers use on a regular basis.
At the same time, though, I am realizing how much more we really do have in America, and how in many ways the stereotypes on both sides of the fence are at least partly true. I am reminded each day of how hard my family works just to do the daily tasks without the convenience of technology. Last week Laura and I were able to go home from school early in the afternoon to eat lunch with our family and help with supper. We ate at 1:30, finished clearing the dishes, and immediately began preparing the food for dinner, which would not be eaten for another seven or eight hours. My mind jumped to cooking dinner in my apartment, where after just an hour a meal that was once in a metal can or a cardboard box would already be in my stomach, where there was no smoke from a kitchen house to irritate my lungs and eyes, and where I could choose from an almost limitless selection of things to eat. Tasks that were once so simple—cooking, bathing, and washing clothes—now take up the largest chunk of the day without the convienences of a stove or running water.
I once asked my brother William what he liked to do, and he replied that he liked washing the dishes. While it made no sense at first, I am beginning to understand. I, like William, am learning to enjoy those things I once found un-enjoyable. I am learning that what you do, how you do it, or how long it takes is not as who you are doing it with. In the African dichotomy of modernity and tradition, God is teaching me to enjoy simplicity and cherish the small moments. One night we bopped a balloon around in our courtyard for hours, many nights we play the same card game over and over again, and most nights we sit around with little conversation and great presence, simply enjoying each other’s company. The most amazing thing is that I love these nights as much as I love any expensive form of entertainment in America, maybe even more.
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I have been so blessed by my family. The other day I was able to sit and take tea for a long time with Mama Robinah, and she shared a whole lot of her story... the faithfulness of God in her life is incredible. One thing that she said to me really stood out. "God gave me love for people," she said. I could not agree more. Our Mom has raised up something like 17 or 18 children-- not all her own, but you would never know. She pays for their school bills, keeps food on the table, and fills their lives with the love of the Lord. The calling of the Lord on Mama's life is profound-- the calling to be a mother, the calling to love and provide for her children the same way that God has loved and provided for her.
Tomorrow morning we leave for 10 days for our rural home stays, and I am excited to see what the Lord will do in our time there. God has blessed me with the opportunity to live with and know an amazing Ugandan family... now I get to have that opportunity all over again.
Monday, February 16, 2009
I saw God in 30 tiny faces
With dirty clothes but faces bright and shining, a large group of children sat waiting in a small patch of grass yesterday when we walked home. We looked around, and while we had no idea what was going on, we decided to respond to their cries of "Bye muzungu!" by actually sitting down in the grass next to them. A huge line of motorcycles was forming across the street, a sight strange even for the busy road where boda bodas (motorcycles) freely weave in and out of a busy mess of cars, trucks, and pedestrians alike. A few words of broken English from the kids surrounding was all we needed to find out that a race was about to happen.
While we never actually saw the race (it was getting dark quickly and we decided we should walk home), I saw something even greater. I saw God.
With the 30 tiny faces turned in our direction, 60 beautiful dark-brown eyes, and 300 little fingers touching our faces, hair, and skin, I began to see what God must look like. After all, they were all, like you and I, created in His image.
At one point in the night, one little girl who was sitting beside me turned and looked at me. "Money?" she asked. My heart sank. I had money with me-- plenty of it in fact, because we had just come back from a trip to Kampala. But as I sat and thought/ prayed about giving her some of it, my heart was in deep conflict.
Right now in one of my classes we are reading Ron Sider's book Rich Christians in the Age of Hunger. It is a challenging but incredible book, and reading it while I am here in Africa has made it even more impacting. As I read it and think through things, I keep finding myself paralyzed. It is so easy to be overwhelmed with all the need. The world is fallen, and the sin of this world has caused great suffering. Our sin has caused suffering. My sin has caused suffering. Why was I born into a Christian family in America, instead of one of the many suffering families that I have met here? Abraham was blessed to be a blessing to others. Is this how I am living? And true, in comparison to the great need of the world, I have little to offer. But in comparison to the 5,000 who were hungry, the 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish that the little boy offered (See John 6) were enough to laugh at. But look at what Jesus did with that. Could He do the same with my resources if I let him? What if we all did? And would the glory that God would receive in our faithfulness not be something to speak of in itself?
In Sider's book, I read something that really spoke to my heart this weekend. It was a part of a "membership covenant" for a mission group of The Church of the Savior in Washington DC:
"I believe that God is the total owner of my life and resources. I give God the throne in relation to the material aspect of my life. God is the owner. I am the ower. Because God is a lavish giver, I too shall be lavish and cheerful in my regular gifts."
I don't know how to end the suffering of the billions around the world who don't have food to eat, water to drink, clothes to wear, or a place to lay their heads. I don't even know the extent of the pain in the 30 beautiful faces that I met yesterday in that tiny patch of grass. But I am confident of this: that just as Christ knew the need of the 5,000 hungry who sat on the grassy hill 2,000 years ago, he knows the need of the hungry today. I don't have much to offer him, but neither did that little boy. And if the Word of God says that "whatever we do for the least of these" we do for God himself, maybe I didn't just imagine that I saw God in those 30 tiny faces. Maybe I really did.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Kibaale photos
This weekend we went and visited some missionaries at Kibaale (actually pronounced chee-ball-ee)Community Center in the southern Ugandan district of Rakai. It was a great weekend to see what the Lord is doing down there, and we had plenty of time to just hang out and enjoy how beautiful it was. Here's a few pictures!
We decided to make a pyramid at the top of this huge hill that we climbed
The beautiful view from the top of the hill... if you look really closely you can see the border line for Tanzania. Haha not really, but you really can see into Tanzania because we were so close to the border.
A schoolhouse that we passed on our walk to the school. It was really falling apart, but there was fresh chalk on the board.
The missionaries that we met adopted Mazie from another area of Uganda... we played with her and their other three adorable children all weekend.
We decided to make a pyramid at the top of this huge hill that we climbed
The beautiful view from the top of the hill... if you look really closely you can see the border line for Tanzania. Haha not really, but you really can see into Tanzania because we were so close to the border.
A schoolhouse that we passed on our walk to the school. It was really falling apart, but there was fresh chalk on the board.
The missionaries that we met adopted Mazie from another area of Uganda... we played with her and their other three adorable children all weekend.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
I found the source of the mysterious ticking noise
If anyone has seen the ridiculously funny/ stupid YouTube video with the Harry Potter finger puppets and the “mysterious ticking noise” you’ll probably think that the blog title is funny. If not, hopefully you’ll think this story is funny :)
Long story short, I did indeed find the source of the mysterious ticking noise. Actually, the noise was more like a… beep… beep…beep… but it was still very mysterious. We’ve had over three weeks of school now, and the whole time many of us have been wondering what the noise is. You hear it everywhere—in the classrooms, in the IMME room, in the dining hall, walking across campus. It seemed so strange to be in the heart of Africa and constantly hearing this electronic-type noise. Finally at one point last week I decided to ask Phil, one of the interns, if he knew what it was. After laughing at me for a little bit (its ok, I probably deserved it) he revealed the mystery. What is the mysterious beeping noise? A bird. Humorously enough, Phil even called it the “catchphrase” bird, which absolutely describes the sound that it makes.
As far as other exciting on-campus news…
Its been raining for a long time, and not just raining—pouring. I’m sitting in the IMME room watching the lightning flash at the same time as I hear the thunder pound because it is so close. We also have a rushing red river outside of the door, the remains of the red dirt road washed away. The rainy season is not supposed to be for another month or more, but I think it’s come early. The walk home should be fun.
This past weekend was a pretty eventful three days. Because of some classes that got rearranged earlier in the week, we didn’t have any classes on Friday which was incredible. Laura and I decided that because we had the entire day free it would be a great time to plan to make dinner for our family. Two other guys in the program live in the house right across the street, so we planned for a joint meal. Cooking for 16 with nothing but charcoal and firewood proved to be more difficult than we had bargained for, but definitely still just as fun (if not more!) By the end of the night we ate a delicious meal of spaghetti and meatballs, garlic bread, and banana splits for desert (Everything turned out great except that we had a few too many meatballs and not enough sauce so it ended up being more like sloppy joe sauce on top of spaghetti… but they didn’t know that) Our brother William like it so much that he not only ate two huge plates of spaghetti, but he wrote on a copy of the 2006 calendar on the wall: “best supper in the world” with the date and his signature next to it. I bet that calendar will hang for at least another two years.
Saturday, three of us decided to visit CMU, an orphanage in Mukono. It was a great day—we visited with Ruth, a German woman who with her husband founded CMU, helped some of the girls wash their clothes, ate lunch, and had the opportunity to sing with the kids and talk to them after lunch. At first the girls were really hesitant to let us help them wash (who would have known bazungu could wash clothes by hand), but after a while they began to open up a little more. We are looking forward to going back in the near future.
The rest of the weekend was also pretty eventful—while the rest of you enjoyed the Superbowl on Sunday, I went Saturday night with my brother William to watch a football (soccer) game. Laura and I walked in the room, immediately realizing that we were not just the only white people, but also the only girls. It was an experience, all of us in the same room watching the game on a single television, but it was also a lot of fun. Sunday four of us went into Kampala to meet a friend-of-a-friend of one of the girls here. It ended up being a great weekend, visiting the church that he attends and grabbing some pizza and ice cream before catching the matatu home.
This weekend the 16 of us on the IMME track are traveling to Rakai, a rural area of Uganda about five-or-so hours away. Our last trip to Jinja was great, so I’m really looking forward to it. I’ll try to post some more pictures soon!
Long story short, I did indeed find the source of the mysterious ticking noise. Actually, the noise was more like a… beep… beep…beep… but it was still very mysterious. We’ve had over three weeks of school now, and the whole time many of us have been wondering what the noise is. You hear it everywhere—in the classrooms, in the IMME room, in the dining hall, walking across campus. It seemed so strange to be in the heart of Africa and constantly hearing this electronic-type noise. Finally at one point last week I decided to ask Phil, one of the interns, if he knew what it was. After laughing at me for a little bit (its ok, I probably deserved it) he revealed the mystery. What is the mysterious beeping noise? A bird. Humorously enough, Phil even called it the “catchphrase” bird, which absolutely describes the sound that it makes.
As far as other exciting on-campus news…
Its been raining for a long time, and not just raining—pouring. I’m sitting in the IMME room watching the lightning flash at the same time as I hear the thunder pound because it is so close. We also have a rushing red river outside of the door, the remains of the red dirt road washed away. The rainy season is not supposed to be for another month or more, but I think it’s come early. The walk home should be fun.
This past weekend was a pretty eventful three days. Because of some classes that got rearranged earlier in the week, we didn’t have any classes on Friday which was incredible. Laura and I decided that because we had the entire day free it would be a great time to plan to make dinner for our family. Two other guys in the program live in the house right across the street, so we planned for a joint meal. Cooking for 16 with nothing but charcoal and firewood proved to be more difficult than we had bargained for, but definitely still just as fun (if not more!) By the end of the night we ate a delicious meal of spaghetti and meatballs, garlic bread, and banana splits for desert (Everything turned out great except that we had a few too many meatballs and not enough sauce so it ended up being more like sloppy joe sauce on top of spaghetti… but they didn’t know that) Our brother William like it so much that he not only ate two huge plates of spaghetti, but he wrote on a copy of the 2006 calendar on the wall: “best supper in the world” with the date and his signature next to it. I bet that calendar will hang for at least another two years.
Saturday, three of us decided to visit CMU, an orphanage in Mukono. It was a great day—we visited with Ruth, a German woman who with her husband founded CMU, helped some of the girls wash their clothes, ate lunch, and had the opportunity to sing with the kids and talk to them after lunch. At first the girls were really hesitant to let us help them wash (who would have known bazungu could wash clothes by hand), but after a while they began to open up a little more. We are looking forward to going back in the near future.
The rest of the weekend was also pretty eventful—while the rest of you enjoyed the Superbowl on Sunday, I went Saturday night with my brother William to watch a football (soccer) game. Laura and I walked in the room, immediately realizing that we were not just the only white people, but also the only girls. It was an experience, all of us in the same room watching the game on a single television, but it was also a lot of fun. Sunday four of us went into Kampala to meet a friend-of-a-friend of one of the girls here. It ended up being a great weekend, visiting the church that he attends and grabbing some pizza and ice cream before catching the matatu home.
This weekend the 16 of us on the IMME track are traveling to Rakai, a rural area of Uganda about five-or-so hours away. Our last trip to Jinja was great, so I’m really looking forward to it. I’ll try to post some more pictures soon!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Jinja pictures
One of the many monkeys that we saw on monkey hill.
The beautiful hut we stayed in at the resort in Jinja... it was AMAZING.
Ok... a really cheesy picture of me touching the nile :)
Several of us outside of the Source Cafe in Jinja. One of the teams of missionaries that we met started the cafe as a way of creating financial independence for the churches in Jinja. Its now under Ugandan leadership.
A taxi covered in chickens that we saw on our way to Jinja.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Visiting Jinja
I always have a problem with figuring out what all to tell you back at home. There's so much to say, but I have trouble putting it all in words, knowing that these mere symbols on a computer screen will never be able to convey it all accurately.
This weekend those of use who are on the missions track in the study abroad program took a weekend trip to Jinja, a town about an hour away. It was an amazing weekend, and it was just what I needed in a lot of ways. Program wise for the weekend we talked with two different missionary teams in Jinja, learning about their ministries and rejoicing in the work of the Lord. One of the missionaries also took us on a tour of Jinja on Saturday, showing us a lot of things that you wouldn't know about Jinja from just walking down a street with markets. I don't have time to tell a whole lot about it today, but hopefully I can tell you more when I am able to post pictures. Sunday night we were able to be visitors at New Life Missionary Baptist church. Not only was the service AMAZING-- three hours of joy and fellowship-- but it was great to talk to the leadership of the church after the service to see the ways that they are being a missional church in Jinja and the surrounding area. More than anything, that is what I am praying to see in Uganda the most... not that they would have to depend on foreign aid and Westerners, but that Godly Ugandan leaders would be raised up. It is already happening, and I pray there will be more and more in the future!
For the weekend we stayed at a place called Kingfisher Resort (which happened to be BEAUTIFUL and complete with a hot shower!!!!). Friday night was pretty chill, and after dinner with the missionaries several of us dug out the guitar and began worshiping in prayer and in song. The Spirit of the Lord fell, and we ended up worshiping long into the night. One of the coolest parts of the night is that God brought us together with a few individuals from a team of missionaries traveling with AIM. It was great to worship with them and to hear and share stories of the working of God in our lives. It is always a funny thing to meet other Americans over here... its like we share a strange but instant bond.
When we came back to school we all hung out on campus for a while before walking back home to be with our families. A few of us were feeling adventurous after a long bus ride, so we climbed up "monkey hill." From the top we could see all of Mukono, and it was beautiful! We also had a lot of fun searching for monkeys, who happened to find us on the way back down. We acted like ridiculous bazungu who had never seen a monkey before, taking tons of pictures and laughing every time they jumped or did something funny, but it was a great time. We loved the hill so much that we decided to come back the next day EARLY in the morning to try and watch the sunrise... which unfortunately ended up being a thunderstorm instead. It was still fun though, and we took some pretty sweet pictures that I'll put up another day. We are still determined to watch a sunrise one day...
Well I have to go... I have class in an hour, and then Laura and I are headed home early today to do our laundry. Thankfully the clouds and rain from this morning have cleared up so that they can dry! Pictures will come soon!
This weekend those of use who are on the missions track in the study abroad program took a weekend trip to Jinja, a town about an hour away. It was an amazing weekend, and it was just what I needed in a lot of ways. Program wise for the weekend we talked with two different missionary teams in Jinja, learning about their ministries and rejoicing in the work of the Lord. One of the missionaries also took us on a tour of Jinja on Saturday, showing us a lot of things that you wouldn't know about Jinja from just walking down a street with markets. I don't have time to tell a whole lot about it today, but hopefully I can tell you more when I am able to post pictures. Sunday night we were able to be visitors at New Life Missionary Baptist church. Not only was the service AMAZING-- three hours of joy and fellowship-- but it was great to talk to the leadership of the church after the service to see the ways that they are being a missional church in Jinja and the surrounding area. More than anything, that is what I am praying to see in Uganda the most... not that they would have to depend on foreign aid and Westerners, but that Godly Ugandan leaders would be raised up. It is already happening, and I pray there will be more and more in the future!
For the weekend we stayed at a place called Kingfisher Resort (which happened to be BEAUTIFUL and complete with a hot shower!!!!). Friday night was pretty chill, and after dinner with the missionaries several of us dug out the guitar and began worshiping in prayer and in song. The Spirit of the Lord fell, and we ended up worshiping long into the night. One of the coolest parts of the night is that God brought us together with a few individuals from a team of missionaries traveling with AIM. It was great to worship with them and to hear and share stories of the working of God in our lives. It is always a funny thing to meet other Americans over here... its like we share a strange but instant bond.
When we came back to school we all hung out on campus for a while before walking back home to be with our families. A few of us were feeling adventurous after a long bus ride, so we climbed up "monkey hill." From the top we could see all of Mukono, and it was beautiful! We also had a lot of fun searching for monkeys, who happened to find us on the way back down. We acted like ridiculous bazungu who had never seen a monkey before, taking tons of pictures and laughing every time they jumped or did something funny, but it was a great time. We loved the hill so much that we decided to come back the next day EARLY in the morning to try and watch the sunrise... which unfortunately ended up being a thunderstorm instead. It was still fun though, and we took some pretty sweet pictures that I'll put up another day. We are still determined to watch a sunrise one day...
Well I have to go... I have class in an hour, and then Laura and I are headed home early today to do our laundry. Thankfully the clouds and rain from this morning have cleared up so that they can dry! Pictures will come soon!
Friday, January 23, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
more pictures
(From bottom to top)
1. The view of Mukono on our walk home from school
2. Getting my hair plaited
3. Laundry!
4. Mama Robinah, my sister Rebecca, and I in our sitting room
5. Several of us in the IMME room on campus... showing how we feel about Matoke (Tori is the only one who likes it)
1. The view of Mukono on our walk home from school
2. Getting my hair plaited
3. Laundry!
4. Mama Robinah, my sister Rebecca, and I in our sitting room
5. Several of us in the IMME room on campus... showing how we feel about Matoke (Tori is the only one who likes it)
The inauguration of new things
It’s kind of funny that as the United States celebrated the historical event of the inauguration of the first African-American president, I was here. In Africa, celebrating it with African friends and family who I am nearly positive were far more excited about it all than my friends and family back home. Why is it that everyone here is so happy about Obama? Is it because of his policies? Is it just because he’s black? Why does it seem like the whole world is happy? Is it because the election of a minority shows that democracy truly exists in the US?
While we were in Kampala this weekend a few of us had our own opportunity to witness politics in action. Some of us got bored with the mall-like atmosphere of Garden City where we had gone to exchange money and find food (the pizza was great though!), so we decided to take a walk in the area. Just around the block was a huge demonstration. African Muslims flooded two blocks of the Kampala streets, walking, riding in Matatu (big vans that serve as taxis), and shouting. The roar of their voices seemed like it could have been heard for miles. They were holding banners made of sheets, but we couldn’t make out what they said, so we asked a few fellow onlookers who explained that they were protesting Uganda’s ties with Israel because of the conflict right now. Apparently Uganda has had close ties with Israel since independence.
The rest of our weekend was less surprising but no less interesting. On Saturday Silvia took Laura and I to a small salon to get our hair plaited. The women at the salon were really sweet, but they didn’t know very much English and spoke in Luganda the whole time. It took ALL day and hurt a lot, but it was totally worth it. It looks pretty sweet, and it will be so much nicer to take care of and deal with while I’m here. One of my Ugandan sisters, Rebecca is older and doesn’t live at home, but on Sunday after church she came over to the house and saw us with our new hair. She kept talking about how much she liked it, and Mama Robinah said, “Yes, what beautiful African daughters I have.” Haha. I liked that. Rebecca and Mama both agreed that we looked very “smart”, which here is a really nice compliment meaning you look good (well dressed, etc.)
Sunday after church we had our first experience of washing our clothes in buckets. We soaked them the night before, so it wasn’t nearly as hard as I was expecting it to be, but it definitely still took a while. My favorite part was later that day. USP staff warned us both verbally and in our handbooks that if you don’t iron our clothes we can have problems with bugs. Apparently these things called mango flies come and lay their eggs in your clothes while their damp, and then they later burrow under your skin because your skin is damper than the dry clothes. I guess ironing them kills the bugs. In order to look “smart” you can’t have wrinkles in your clothes, but that was a much smaller motivation to iron than preventing nasty flies from crawling under our skin. But the funny part was that while I was ironing Laura and I were talking to our sister Silvia who thought that the whole thing was hysterical. She had no idea what mango flies were, and had never had bugs under her skin from her clothes. “Your brothers never iron,” she said. Laura and I decided it was an attempt from the USP staff to make us iron our clothes and look smart. Haha. We all had a good laugh at it. We didn’t iron everything.
WARNING: the next paragraph may contain material not suitable for sensitive readers. (Just kidding. Kind of. If you’re really fond of roosters, don’t read this.)
Yesterday we went home early from campus because we were both done with classes by one and we wanted Mama and Silvia to teach us how to make some of the food. Much to our surprise, not only was our Mom, Silvia, and our brothers there to meet us, but also an old lady with a rooster. The lady didn’t speak any English, so we had to find out everything about her from our Mom, who called her “the stubborn old lady that she takes care of because she used to serve the church.” But really, the lady isn’t the main part of this story… it’s the rooster she brought. It was walking around the courtyard the whole time that we prepared dinner, and Laura and I kept commenting on how pretty the feathers were, taking an occasional picture. Our brother William came and said that it was time to slaughter the chicken. We thought that he meant one of the many other chickens that we have, but before we knew it he had scooped up the rooster with one hand and was sharpening a knife with the other. The rooster with beautiful feathers was sacrificed to our stomachs, and we have pictures in his memory. During dinner our mom kept saying, “how’s the rooster,” and “eat some more of the rooster.” Like we needed reminding.
But really, life here goes on just like life goes on anywhere else in the world—normally. True, the normal is relative to Ugandan normal, but as we slowly adapt it becomes normal for us too. Wearing skirts and dresses all the time, eating dinner at 10 instead of 6, drinking lots of tea, using Luganda greetings, walking everywhere, seeing tons of tropical birds, having the power go out, bathing with a bucket, worshiping and praying with our family every night, having kids follow you just to touch your skin… its all “normal,” and I am enjoying it all.
P.S. thanks for all your comments! I like hearing from you all!
While we were in Kampala this weekend a few of us had our own opportunity to witness politics in action. Some of us got bored with the mall-like atmosphere of Garden City where we had gone to exchange money and find food (the pizza was great though!), so we decided to take a walk in the area. Just around the block was a huge demonstration. African Muslims flooded two blocks of the Kampala streets, walking, riding in Matatu (big vans that serve as taxis), and shouting. The roar of their voices seemed like it could have been heard for miles. They were holding banners made of sheets, but we couldn’t make out what they said, so we asked a few fellow onlookers who explained that they were protesting Uganda’s ties with Israel because of the conflict right now. Apparently Uganda has had close ties with Israel since independence.
The rest of our weekend was less surprising but no less interesting. On Saturday Silvia took Laura and I to a small salon to get our hair plaited. The women at the salon were really sweet, but they didn’t know very much English and spoke in Luganda the whole time. It took ALL day and hurt a lot, but it was totally worth it. It looks pretty sweet, and it will be so much nicer to take care of and deal with while I’m here. One of my Ugandan sisters, Rebecca is older and doesn’t live at home, but on Sunday after church she came over to the house and saw us with our new hair. She kept talking about how much she liked it, and Mama Robinah said, “Yes, what beautiful African daughters I have.” Haha. I liked that. Rebecca and Mama both agreed that we looked very “smart”, which here is a really nice compliment meaning you look good (well dressed, etc.)
Sunday after church we had our first experience of washing our clothes in buckets. We soaked them the night before, so it wasn’t nearly as hard as I was expecting it to be, but it definitely still took a while. My favorite part was later that day. USP staff warned us both verbally and in our handbooks that if you don’t iron our clothes we can have problems with bugs. Apparently these things called mango flies come and lay their eggs in your clothes while their damp, and then they later burrow under your skin because your skin is damper than the dry clothes. I guess ironing them kills the bugs. In order to look “smart” you can’t have wrinkles in your clothes, but that was a much smaller motivation to iron than preventing nasty flies from crawling under our skin. But the funny part was that while I was ironing Laura and I were talking to our sister Silvia who thought that the whole thing was hysterical. She had no idea what mango flies were, and had never had bugs under her skin from her clothes. “Your brothers never iron,” she said. Laura and I decided it was an attempt from the USP staff to make us iron our clothes and look smart. Haha. We all had a good laugh at it. We didn’t iron everything.
WARNING: the next paragraph may contain material not suitable for sensitive readers. (Just kidding. Kind of. If you’re really fond of roosters, don’t read this.)
Yesterday we went home early from campus because we were both done with classes by one and we wanted Mama and Silvia to teach us how to make some of the food. Much to our surprise, not only was our Mom, Silvia, and our brothers there to meet us, but also an old lady with a rooster. The lady didn’t speak any English, so we had to find out everything about her from our Mom, who called her “the stubborn old lady that she takes care of because she used to serve the church.” But really, the lady isn’t the main part of this story… it’s the rooster she brought. It was walking around the courtyard the whole time that we prepared dinner, and Laura and I kept commenting on how pretty the feathers were, taking an occasional picture. Our brother William came and said that it was time to slaughter the chicken. We thought that he meant one of the many other chickens that we have, but before we knew it he had scooped up the rooster with one hand and was sharpening a knife with the other. The rooster with beautiful feathers was sacrificed to our stomachs, and we have pictures in his memory. During dinner our mom kept saying, “how’s the rooster,” and “eat some more of the rooster.” Like we needed reminding.
But really, life here goes on just like life goes on anywhere else in the world—normally. True, the normal is relative to Ugandan normal, but as we slowly adapt it becomes normal for us too. Wearing skirts and dresses all the time, eating dinner at 10 instead of 6, drinking lots of tea, using Luganda greetings, walking everywhere, seeing tons of tropical birds, having the power go out, bathing with a bucket, worshiping and praying with our family every night, having kids follow you just to touch your skin… its all “normal,” and I am enjoying it all.
P.S. thanks for all your comments! I like hearing from you all!
Friday, January 16, 2009
My name is Nampebwa
Hello family and friends in the below zero weather :)
I wasn't actually going to write anything today, but I am trying to upload a picture to show you and it is taking a REALLY long time with the slow connection here, so I figured I may as well also type while I wait. Hopefully it works.
I am learning a lot while I am here, and I am taking a few classes as well. Most of what I learn comes from home, though. I have decided that Luganda is a really hard language. I don't know how successful I will actually be in learning much, but I love it anyway. Mama Robinah and Silvia are teaching us some really useful and fun phrases, though, so Laura and I like trying to remember and use them. So far our vocabulary only consists of things like how are you, I am fine, I am satisfied, thank you very much, good morning, good afternoon, sleep well, ok, and a few others. We have only been here a week, though, so maybe we will end up learning more than I think.
You might be interested in learning some about the food here. I had heard from other people who had come to Uganda that most of the food was bad, so I was a little scared, but it has been a lot better than I expected. At the bottom of the Ugandan food pyramid, in a food group all of its own is matoke, or steamed plantain mush. We eat it for both lunch and supper, and I'm sure you can imagine what it tastes like if you just think about it. It’s not horrible, but it is far from good. We cover it with beans, ground nut sauce, or on a rare occasion meat, all of which make it taste a little better. I had a revelation the other day in discovering exactly what G-nut sauce was. Silvia was explaining what they were, and all I could think was “I don’t think we have those.” She had me try some of the g-nuts when they were all mashed up, but before they were made into the sauce, and it tasted a lot like peanut butter. The next night Mama Robinah came home with a big box of g-nuts that were, in fact peanuts. Sadly, I think they only eat them boiled, which is definitely not my favorite way to eat peanuts, but I was definitely excited to realize what g-nuts were! We also eat a lot of rice, which like the matoke is much better with something on it. Then there is posho, which has no flavor at all and is a little hard, spongy cube of something like cornmeal. Tea time has become one of our favorite parts of the day (thank you British influence!), and anytime in Uganda can be tea time. We always take tea at breakfast, when we come home from school, and several of us try to go to tea time in the dining hall during the day in the afternoon. It is kind of strange drinking hot tea when it is so hot here, but a lot of us still really look forward to it. The fruit here is also delicious, and we feel like we just got a million dollars when we get some fresh pineapple, a banana, or a mango with a meal. Last night instead of tea Mama Robinah gave us jackfruit to try. It was by far the most unique fruit I have eaten, but we really liked it!
Our walk to school is about 30-40 minutes, although this morning we discovered that we can make it in about 25 because we walked much faster. Most of it is uphill coming in the mornings, and we have realized that walking slower has its definite advantages. In general, though, we love the walk. On campus all of us living with families have two little rooms with lockers to keep our laptops, books, etc. so we do not always have to bring them home. Yesterday morning I forgot my key, though, so as soon as I got here I turned around and walked back home. That made for a long day of walking in shoes that weren’t good for my feet, and today I have HUGE blisters all over them. Ouch! I am really hoping they heal soon because if definitely hurts to walk, and walking here is absolutely unavoidable.
The last few nights have been great with our family. This post is getting really long, so I won’t say too much, but I will say that I know God put Laura and I in exactly the family where he wanted us to be. The last two nights in a row we have had worship and prayer with several in the family, and I am so encouraged by their passionate love of the Lord. Last night Mama Robinah also gave us our “clan” names. I can’t think of the name of the clan right now (it’s written down at home), but the name that she gave me is Nampebwa. Laura is Nakiriowa, and we both feel like having new names has made us a real part of the family.
We have an exciting weekend ahead of us. On Fridays we only have one class, Faith and Action, and after class most of us are going to Kampala to exchange money and look around. We’ve been looking forward to it all week. Laura and I are also really excited about tomorrow because Silvia is taking us to get our hair done! I’ll be sure and try to post more pictures next week.
- Nampebwa
I wasn't actually going to write anything today, but I am trying to upload a picture to show you and it is taking a REALLY long time with the slow connection here, so I figured I may as well also type while I wait. Hopefully it works.
I am learning a lot while I am here, and I am taking a few classes as well. Most of what I learn comes from home, though. I have decided that Luganda is a really hard language. I don't know how successful I will actually be in learning much, but I love it anyway. Mama Robinah and Silvia are teaching us some really useful and fun phrases, though, so Laura and I like trying to remember and use them. So far our vocabulary only consists of things like how are you, I am fine, I am satisfied, thank you very much, good morning, good afternoon, sleep well, ok, and a few others. We have only been here a week, though, so maybe we will end up learning more than I think.
You might be interested in learning some about the food here. I had heard from other people who had come to Uganda that most of the food was bad, so I was a little scared, but it has been a lot better than I expected. At the bottom of the Ugandan food pyramid, in a food group all of its own is matoke, or steamed plantain mush. We eat it for both lunch and supper, and I'm sure you can imagine what it tastes like if you just think about it. It’s not horrible, but it is far from good. We cover it with beans, ground nut sauce, or on a rare occasion meat, all of which make it taste a little better. I had a revelation the other day in discovering exactly what G-nut sauce was. Silvia was explaining what they were, and all I could think was “I don’t think we have those.” She had me try some of the g-nuts when they were all mashed up, but before they were made into the sauce, and it tasted a lot like peanut butter. The next night Mama Robinah came home with a big box of g-nuts that were, in fact peanuts. Sadly, I think they only eat them boiled, which is definitely not my favorite way to eat peanuts, but I was definitely excited to realize what g-nuts were! We also eat a lot of rice, which like the matoke is much better with something on it. Then there is posho, which has no flavor at all and is a little hard, spongy cube of something like cornmeal. Tea time has become one of our favorite parts of the day (thank you British influence!), and anytime in Uganda can be tea time. We always take tea at breakfast, when we come home from school, and several of us try to go to tea time in the dining hall during the day in the afternoon. It is kind of strange drinking hot tea when it is so hot here, but a lot of us still really look forward to it. The fruit here is also delicious, and we feel like we just got a million dollars when we get some fresh pineapple, a banana, or a mango with a meal. Last night instead of tea Mama Robinah gave us jackfruit to try. It was by far the most unique fruit I have eaten, but we really liked it!
Our walk to school is about 30-40 minutes, although this morning we discovered that we can make it in about 25 because we walked much faster. Most of it is uphill coming in the mornings, and we have realized that walking slower has its definite advantages. In general, though, we love the walk. On campus all of us living with families have two little rooms with lockers to keep our laptops, books, etc. so we do not always have to bring them home. Yesterday morning I forgot my key, though, so as soon as I got here I turned around and walked back home. That made for a long day of walking in shoes that weren’t good for my feet, and today I have HUGE blisters all over them. Ouch! I am really hoping they heal soon because if definitely hurts to walk, and walking here is absolutely unavoidable.
The last few nights have been great with our family. This post is getting really long, so I won’t say too much, but I will say that I know God put Laura and I in exactly the family where he wanted us to be. The last two nights in a row we have had worship and prayer with several in the family, and I am so encouraged by their passionate love of the Lord. Last night Mama Robinah also gave us our “clan” names. I can’t think of the name of the clan right now (it’s written down at home), but the name that she gave me is Nampebwa. Laura is Nakiriowa, and we both feel like having new names has made us a real part of the family.
We have an exciting weekend ahead of us. On Fridays we only have one class, Faith and Action, and after class most of us are going to Kampala to exchange money and look around. We’ve been looking forward to it all week. Laura and I are also really excited about tomorrow because Silvia is taking us to get our hair done! I’ll be sure and try to post more pictures next week.
- Nampebwa
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