Amazing!

These are two of the most precious and God fearing men in Uganda, and they are coming to the United States this summer! It is an absolute miracle of God. While I was in Africa in March, I had accompanied Paul and Pam Hunter, Abdu, and Robert to the US Embassy in Kampala. Abdu and Robert were attempting for the 4th and 5th time to be granted a Visa to travel to the U.S. Each time they had be denied, and this time was no exception. We all went back to Jinja that day with heavy hearts but we knew that God was up to something bigger than we could visibly see with our eyes. Read here. It has been reported that less than 10% of applicants for visas to American are granted in Uganda. However, we serve a God who is bigger than statistics and who engages on our behalf to direct our steps and orchestrate His purposes.

Paul wrote in his email update today that, a US senator, who had no personal connection with the Hunter's or Next Generation Ministries, had recently contacted the consular in the Kampala Embassy to personally vouch for Abdu and Robert. The consular then contacted Abdu and requested that he and Robert meet him on July 1st for another interview. Several weeks ago, Abdu and Robert had already filed another application and scheduled an online interview for July 1st! After a few questions in their interview yesterday (July 1st Uganda time), both Abdu and Robert were each granted a Visa to the United States!

"Father, Your ways are higher than our ways! Thank you for bringing glory to Your name in this situation, thank You for Your faithfulness even when we can't see or understand what You are doing. When we lay everything down at Your feet, You are truly free to engage on our behalf and work miracles beyond what we could ask or think. Father, thank you for Abdu and Robert and for their precious families. May Your grace be upon them as they prepare for yet another adventure in their walk with You."

Spring Cleaning

Ahhh, it's finally sorta warm. Might snow tomorrow, cause it is Idaho, but today has been a lovely 72 degrees. The slight tan I got in Uganda has suffered greatly this last week and probably won't have a chance to recover due to the forcasted amount of hours scheduled indoors at work. O well, as one friend pointed out, at least I HAD been in the tropics while she was still shoveling snow.....
Anyways, I love spring cleaning. I look forward to it all winter - opening the windows and doors so the fresh air can permeate every corner of the apartment, moving the furniture to vacuum up all the hibernating dust bunnies, even rearranging the closet so the short sleeve shirts are within closer reach (the long johns are still at the forefront cause ya never know til at least July.) I didn't get every thing done, but I did feel satisfied with the day.
However, I hesitated to completely unpack my suitcase from the trip. Yes, I have been home for over a week, but I haven't completely adjusted to being back. I didn't want my time in Uganda to be written in disappearing ink. I wanted the reality of the people and that place to stick with me. Maybe keeping the bag partially packed was a tie to that reality. Nevertheless, the clothes are washed now and I received an email from Grace. (Hehe, I guess washing the dirt out didn't erase as much as I had subconsciously thought it might.) The reality is to stay in the love of God and continue in fellowship. Perfect love casts out fear, so there is no room to be afraid of "losing" what the Lord gave me in Uganda. "For I know whom I have believed and I am convinced that He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him until that day." 2 Tim 1:12

Back Home

Hot showers are amazing! I had considered collecting all the red dust I was covered in and potting a pineapple or an avacodo tree, but somehow I don't think it would do well in this FREEZING cold. I was still covered in Uganda last night went I arrived home around midnight after 48 hours of traveling. I had a long layover in Amsterdam so I took the opportunity to take a tour through town. Holland is beautiful and the tulips and daffodils are just starting to bloom. It was kind of an overcast and rainy day in Amsterdam, but it was great to get out and walk and see the flowers, windmills, and lush green Dutch farmlands.

It is good to be home. I had to think twice before I brushed my teeth with fresh water flowing from the tap. I take so many little things for granted...

Werabe

Good byes are always hard, even when you know it is only a temporary goodbye. I leave Uganda in a just a few short hours - boy, time has flown by. I am so thankful for the opportunity to come and not only have an experience, but to build and grow in relationships that will last far beyond the last crayon being used, beyond the new shoes wearing out, even beyond the new school being built that will influence generations to come. Life and the people that make up that life are such a gift. People are messy, maintaining and cultivating a relationship is work, but the reward far outweighs the cost. I have learned so much by just observing Paul and Pam. They are skilled at working through misunderstandings, miscommunication, and deception at core levels. They genuinely love people, and they are amazing to watch as they engage the Ugandans through the love and truth of Jesus Christ.

Day before yesterday, on a second trip to Bukeeka, Paul, Pam, Robert, and I were walking up the road and up ahead of us was an old Jaja (grandmother) walking toward us balancing a large pole on her head. She was still a distance off, but she must have seen me pull out my camera to capture a great shot of African culture (and balance). She immediately put one hand on the pole and came at us waving her finger at me and shouting something I couldn’t understand. This was the first time I had ever had someone not want me to take a picture,(well, except for The Bridge, but that is a different story), and I immediately lowered my camera out of respect. I assumed that she did not want her photo taken because she presumably a Muslim. However, Robert interpreted and said that she was demanding money for her photo to be taken. Paul handed her a couple hundred shillings but she remained irate, continuing to scowl and wave her finger. My first inclination was to walk off and let her remain in her own little greedy, grouchy world. But Paul, recognizing that something deeper was going on, gave her a couple more coins, but she was not appeased. Pam encouraged her to be thankful for receiving the money but Jaja stood with a pout. Muttering, she stood still for half a moment as I snapped a shot but she was obviously not pleased. She continued to squawk in her native tongue and at that point Robert realized what she had no understanding of coins. In her mind, coins had never been associated with payment. Robert said that she was asking for money, and money to her was paper. Paul pulled out a paper 1000 shilling and she said “ah hah!” and smiled and instantly posed with a huge grin for her photo along side Paul. All along she thought we were holding out on her, while in fact, it was her own paradigm and that was keeping her from her blessing. By pushing through in this interaction, we had been blessed to finally understand what she was thinking and she had been blessed with a little “pocket change.”

I am sharing this because I realized that I, being a typical American, quite often don’t think I have the time to spend working through issues with difficult people who are not on the same communication wave as I am. But through this small example, I saw my own impatience and lack of skill, mirrored by Paul and Pam’s willingness to pursue root issues and help people come out of bondage. I witnessed such examples over and over. I am so thankful that the Lord revealed and exposed my heart, for I know that my attitude and perceptions have been changed. I am praying that the Lord will teach me to be skilled in my encounters with people. I have plenty of opportunities to practice everyday.

Thank you, Paul and Pam, and Abdu and Betty for welcoming me into your home and for sharing the past three weeks of your life with me and for your friendship. Thank you Uganda for welcoming me wherever I went and for your beautiful smiles - they are forever etched on my heart and I will see you again. Thank you everyone at home for releasing me and even sending me to Africa, and for your prayers while I am here. My life has been blessed and is richer because of all of you.

Uganda Heath Care

Being a nurse, I am very interested in observing health care in other nations - especially third world countries. Since we have done most of the visiting and distributing supplies among the villages, I have been able to visually assess the obvious sickness and disease rampant in especially the children, and yet much of it can be prevented by educating and implementing basic personal hygiene and proper nutrition. I also had the opportunity to today to visit the local hospital and a few of the outpatient clinics in town. I am so used to HIPPA regulations in the US that I intentionally left my camera at home and unfortunately didn’t capture any visual explanation of what I experienced. (There is no such thing as HIPPA here, btw. I could have taken pictures.)


Paul explained to me as we entered the hospital grounds that each building (known as a ward) houses specific disease states. For example, there is a TB unit, HIV / Aids Units, Labor and Delivery, Pediatric, Theater (Surgery), etc. They are long rectangular cinder block buildings. I didn’t count, but I would guesstamate around 10-15 of them. Most had multiple rooms that contained 6-8 beds. I learned that the patient had to provide their own bedding, often their own mattress, their own meals, and their own nursing care. There are nurses around that may administer medications and there is a doctor that makes rounds, but there is no dietician, social services, etc. During my visit, the sidewalks and grounds surrounding the buildings had many people sitting around, sleeping, eating, preparing meals, and doing laundry. These are the patients’ family members who come to live at the hospital to care for their loved ones.

The nursing staff at the hospital greeted and welcomed us and inviting us to tour the grounds unaccompanied. They were a breath of fresh air in an otherwise less than hygienic environment. I believe they genuinely care for people and have the desire to improve the care and quality of their facility.

We walked through the L & D ward where I was struck by the vast difference to what I am accustomed to in the US. There were two large rooms filled with pregnant women whose sagging bellies were only matched by the sagging mattresses. Most were laying in the beds, some with IV’s, some with newborns, most with family members sitting at the end of the bed, on the floors, or even napping in the bed with the patient. The water in the basins was dirty, the IV’s lacked IV poles, dirty dishes were laying around. I don’t really know what protocol is in place, I just know I am far away from home and I wouldn’t want to have a baby here, or get stitches, or even receive an injection.

We visited an outpatient clinic where they test and treat malaria - which is the biggest killer in Uganda, along with HIV. This clinic was clean and seemed to have a decent lab, but I was again astounded when I watched the lab techs draw and test blood without wearing gloves. I have the understanding that they wear gloves when gloves available - but that is not the norm. I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that Uganda is such a high risk area - HIV, Ebola, Hepatitis, malaria, etc, and yet they don’t even have access to some of the most simple things proven to help stop the spread of disease. My purpose in sharing my experience is not to expose anyone, just to bring to reality what people are dealing with in third world countries.

Source of the Nile and Bujigali Falls Pics

Baptisms

This morning we visited the Source of the Nile for baptisms. The Nile River is one of two rivers in the world that flow north and it originates from a spring in Lake Victoria. Syd, Jade, and Savannah were all baptized. This trip to Africa has really impacted their life and God has touched them in a deep way. Jade is 14 and Savannah is 15, and it has been such a joy to get to know them better and to encourage them in their growing walk with the Lord. It was a significant day for them and I am thankful that I was a witness. Paul wrote an update and gave me permission to post it here also.

Paul wrote:

Have you noticed that important steps tend to be public things? Not all important transitions, for many are unseen events of the heart, but milestones like dedications, graduations, weddings, ribbon cuttings, retirements, etc.
Early this morning, 8 of us made our way to the Source of the River Nile. This is a government park that commemorates the discovery of the source of the Nile River out of Lake Victoria. Six of us paid 5,000 shillings while the Ugandans paid 1,000 shillings. White people have to struggle for economic equality here. But, that’s another story!
We were there at the Source while tourist posed for photos, orphans played drums and danced, vendors tempted people with African made crafts, and river guides pleaded for passengers to board their water craft and travel up river to the “actual” source of the Nile. We were there in the midst of all this public activity at the request of Savannah, Jayde (pronounced jade), and her mother Syd (short for Sydney). All three wanted to be baptized and the Source is where people in Jinja go for public baptism.
Richard, one of the pastors of Jinja Christian Center, was a part of our group along with Abdu, who has become very dear to all three of these ladies. Pam, Jenny, and I were along to witness, encourage, and take photos of this spiritual historic and significant event.
The ladies sat on a ledge facing the Nile and Richard gave a thoroughly biblical teaching on baptism. Each of us, not just the baptism candidates, but each of us was given something from the Lord as Richard blessed with God’s Word.
The three ladies shared why they wanted to be baptized. Syd had been baptized immediately after becoming born again 15 years ago, but it was more a religious ritual than a real exchange. She is now aware that baptism is a fervent symbol of leaving everything behind, and completely following Christ as the source of life. Her daughter, Jayde, was baptized as an infant and had no idea what was happening to her. This was a personal commitment for her. Through a waterfall of tears, Savannah poured out her heart to all of us and the Lord. She wants to be completely and passionately committed to Christ.
Each testimony was moving. God’s presence was felt by all of us in the peace of all the commercial activity. We were experiencing a spiritual reality of intimacy between these ladies and the Lord.
Richard, with help from Abdu, moved to the water and quietly and reverently committed each person into the water, signifying that they were leaving everything behind and moving forward for the glory of God. Tears were shed, hearts were moved, hugs were given and received, praise was offered, and towels were handed out by Pam to soak up the water from the Nile River.
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for setting the pattern for us! Thank you for doing the will of your Father. May each of these precious souls who discovered You in a different way here in Africa, do what they were designed to do in the power of Your Holy Spirit.

Ants for Dinner....NOT!!!

The other day in the market we came across a seasonal item - fried ants. Syd and I talked about trying one - ONLY ONE - and Grace obliged us (Thankyou Grace). She brought home a whole bag this afternoon and fried them up. Yikes, they didn't look too bad at the market - small enough to pop one in the mouth, receive a star for my "Things I Have Eaten in Other Countries and Wish I Hadn't" badge, and then be done with it. However, they plumped right up in the skillet, grew legs, and filled the kitchen, uh, no, actually the whole house with a funky dead fried ant smell. Grace ate two in the kitchen, Syd ate a mouthful, Alfred ate a bowlful, and Terrese ate two or three handfuls, and I ate - NONE! Pam walked in and we told her that Grace brought ants home - Pam wasn't very happy and asked that they not be placed on the dinner table. Thank you Pam! However, when I was doing dishes tonight I ran across a bowlful of........I screamed, asked what was in the bowl (knowing full well what they were) and promtly washed them down the sink. Someone didn't eat their ANT LEGS!!!!

Slimed

More Pics to Go with Previous Post

Naminya

Paul and Pam took us to visit the widows of Naminya today. I had heard much about “the best banana bread in the world” and I was excited to sink my own teeth into it and to experience the whole baking experience for myself. The village of Naminya is about halfway between Jinja and Bukeeka, but this time we each had our own personal motorcycle boda boda. With seven of us, it felt like we were the “Hell’s Angels” zipping down the narrow highway.

We come to Regina’s home (one of the 9 “widows of Naminya”) and met up with the other widows who had already arrived to start their day of baking. These fine ladies, personal friends of the Hunter’s, started a thriving bread baking business about a year ago. Regina and Florence were already cutting up pumpkins to roast under banana leaves. Sissy was stoking the fire in the mud oven that had been specially designed for them. Margaret had been sent to find bananas. All were busy about their jobs but stopped to greet us with a warm hug and “Kali, kali”. Mama Sarah, a tall and regal woman, pulled up benches for us to settle in to as she invited us to watch the process.

As the pumpkin roasted, Pam pulled out reading glasses that Syd had brought in her bags of goodies. Pam had noticed several weeks ago that one of the widows had a difficult time reading and had let her try her own reading glasses. The widow’s face lit up as she was actually able to read the words on the page, so that inspired Pam to obtain reading glasses for all of them. One by one, the widows tried on different sets of glasses to see what worked the best. Mama Sarah picked up her own Bible and tried out her new glasses. She had a big grin on her face and said, “This is good, this is good! I can read my Bible!”

By this time, the pumpkin was being stripped from the peel and mashed up in a big bowl. Florence was sifting flour and another was measuring out sugar. It was such a joy to watch them giggle and tease each other as they cooked. The dough was poured into the pans, set in the oven, and sealed for the allotted cooking time. We had been observing and keeping entertained through the whole process. It was great to have both Paul and Pam with us, just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company.

As the hours passed, various children passed by on the road near us. Because this village has not had as much exposure to whites, their reactions to us were more of fright and timidity than what I had seen in town and Bukeeka. At one point, a group of kids came galloping by at full speed past the house and glanced just long enough to catch us in their vision. The breaks went on and I heard one shout, “Mzungu!” like we were some type of rare specimen that had just been rediscovered. For a split second, they stared at us, and then just as fast has they had stopped, they resumed speed and tore down the road. Shortly after, I decided to walk up to the road and just see what there was to see. I looked down one way. Nothing but a red dirt road. Looked the other way. A small boy tagging a ways behind his father turned in just enough time to see me and instantly started screaming and ran as fast as he could the down the road to catch up with his father. Not the reaction I had expected. All the other Mzungus were laughing at me when I reached the house again. “What in the world did you do to that poor child!??” “Nothing!” I said.

About the time the oven started emitting the most wonderfully delicious smell, a large group of uniformed school children stopped by to investigate where the smell was coming from. A bit hesitant, due to my just prior experience of scaring a poor child to death simply by looking at him, I walked up to the group to introduce myself and make friends. Again, my camera came in handy and all walls seemed to immediately tumble as they shrieked and giggled at their images on the screen. Syd came to the rescue as I was getting mauled by eager hands. Syd is so great with the kids. She sat them all down within seconds had them talking and asking questions, and even singing songs. The blistering noon sun beat down on us but the kids would have sat there for hours had we had enough stamina. Syd and I had to get back to the shade before we burnt to a crisp so we bid the children goodbye - besides, the bread was done and begging for attention :-)

Margaret served us cold sodas, which she had just brought from town balanced in a tub on her head. We all gathered in the shade, Pam skillfully removed the tops off the glass bottles using a wooden bench and a quick whack of her hand. One of the widows brought two huge plates of thickly sliced bread and we all sank our teeth into truly the best banana bread you have ever tasted. The fellowship was sweet and we again marveled at the Lord’s goodness.

After that, a few of us went further up the road to Mama Sarah’s house to visit the milk cows, calves, and hang out while Abdu collected milk. I loved hanging out there, far away from town, cell phones, traffic noise, pollution, and most everything else that brings stress and anxiety. The lush rolling tropical hills of Uganda seemed to stretch on forever from that place of solitude. Pale green butterflies danced in the wind and the scent of earthy goodness wafted along on the light breeze. The tethered calves beckoned me closer with their huge puppy dog eyes and the smallest one nuzzled my pants looking for milk. He decided my fingers would suffice as a pacifier until his dinner came. Completely covered in slime to my elbows, I sought out Abdu and he graciously offered water to rinse at least the first layer off my hands. But you know I loved every minute of it.

Bukeeka

Wow, what an incredible day. I am not sure how to put words to what I experienced today, although my pictures may open a small window to the world I saw. We went to Bukeeka, which was about a 20 minute bus ride from Jinja. Loaded once again with army green duffels, six Mzungu women tottered on the back of boda bodas to the bus station. I think we must be quite a sight and stick out like sore thumbs, although the whole visual experience is entertaining for the onlookers, I am sure.
We arrived in the village of Bukeeka, which from the road looks not unlike any other village we passed along the way. Children in ragged T-shirts playing in two and threes under blooming plumeria trees, tethered goats contentedly chewing their cud, barefoot mammas stirring huge pots of porridge while groups of men whittle away at sticks and talk story. As we departed from the bus, the children aroused from their watch posts and ran up to us, singing in unison, “Hello Mzungu how are you? Mzungu, mzungo! How are you?” We greeted them back, saying “I am fine, how are you?”
Pam said that we had a short walk up the hill to the school. Robert (one of the men that had been denied a visa a week ago) and his wife, Sarah, felt a strong leading from the Lord to pursue building the Kingdom of God in this predominately Islamic village named Bukeeka back in 2004. He gave them vision and provision and they began Fountain of Hope School, which we were visiting today.
Being Americans, we talked rather loudly as we strolled up the hill. Even before we could see our destination, we could hear the school children’s voices ringing out in expectation of our coming. Our voices had given us away even before they could see us. The gate was already lined with children that had escaped the classrooom to greet us. “Hello mzungu, hello mzungo!!!” It was a delightful welcoming party, their bright smiles and passionate waving would warm even the hardest heart. I was surprised though, that walking through the gate they were not rude or pushy in their effort to be near to us, granted there were only a few of them and their teachers were standing near by. We had obviously interrupted class time, but Sarah graciously greeted us and took us to a back room to unload our goodies. She explained that Fountain of Hope is currently divided into two different locations in Bukeeka. The younger ages were being taught at this lower location that they are renting and the teenagers were up the road at the new facility that is under construction and would eventually house the entire school.
This lower “campus” was basically a brick barn with stalls as classrooms. Sarah took us to each class and we introduced ourselves and shared briefly with each class. Then we passed out small gifts (bracelets, sweets, stickers) to each student. They were able to contain their bridled excitement until the camera was pulled out. They love the camera!!!! We would snap their picture and display the digital result. They giggled and shrieked in delight and would reposture themselves in an effort to be in yet another frame in front of my camera. Me, still being a newcomer to Africa, think that all Africans look alike (at least until you get to know them), and probably got multiple pictures of the exact same children. At least we had fun…….
When we finished at the lower school, we trekked over half a mile up the hill to the new school which is still under construction. The journey of getting there was half the fun. So many beautiful sights, and it was an absolute adventure for all of us. We greeted people along the way and marveled at the rich colors and lush hues of creation manifesting all around us. The sweltering heat didn’t even dampen our spirits.
Again, the children heard us coming before we had actually arrived. They were on a break and were free to run down and meet us. This older group was a bit more reserved in their verbal greeting, although their eyes watched our every move and nothing escaped their close observation. Rows of brilliant white teeth glowed against ebony skin as we reached out our hands to touch theirs. All facades of reservation washed away as we pulled out cameras and snapped photos for their inspection.
We were introduced to Joseph, the headmaster of the school and he gave us a tour of the expanding grounds. There are two finished buildings of classrooms - composed of crisp yellow wooden planks and gleaming stainless steel hinges and tin roofs. There is another building still under construction.
Once break was over the children had been corralled back within the classrooms, we were officially introduced to each class and learned more about the educational system in Uganda. I was astounded to learn that the last two years of “high school” started at 5am and ended at 10pm, 6 days a week! This is all in preparation for them to sit for their final exam which determines if they graduate.
Fountain of Hope School started with 67 students but has grown to 400 in only 3 years. It has been a great blessing to the Bukeeka village. In addition to having an amazing school, Fountain of Hope is in the process of digging a well that will supply water to the upper portion of Bukeeka. Right now, all the water has to be hauled over ½ a mile from the main village by the road. They also want to place a milk cow and laying chickens at the school and even stock a small store as a resource both to the village and to teach the children practical agriculture, farming, and business skills.
Walking back down to the main village, my heart was filled with a type of satisfaction I have seldom experienced. I had not “done” anything or performed some great task, but I had given part of my heart to these children and may never get it back...

Winter is Here

“Winter “ is officially here. We had a major thunder and lightning storm with rain last night that knocked out the power. I loved lying there in bed listening to the heavy rain but I wondered how it was affecting the villages and mud huts. The rain let up long enough to walk to church this morning but started up again shortly after the service started. The congregation of 800 meets outside under a semi built shelter. Tall poles hold up a tin roof and the sides are open so we had full view of the torrent of rain belting us from the side. Rivers of water rushed in under our feet and we had to tie the ends of our dresses up to keep from getting wet. The goats grazing just a few yards from the building looked longingly at our shelter but refused to join us, opting instead to cuddle up next to the brick fence. It also got really cold (for Africa anyway) but I was lucky and had one of the young girls fall asleep on my lap for the entire service so we both kept pretty warm. We left at 2pm and it was still raining hard. The streets had turned into flowing red rivers and there was a power line down that blocked our way home. A few detours later we made it to the house soaking wet but thankful that we didn’t live in a mud hut. I stepped outside after lunch and promptly introduced my rear to the hard cement - wet red clay makes a surface slicker than snot, lol. It is 6pm right now and still raining….I don’t think we will be going anywhere tonight.

Pictures

I seem to have a decent internet connection right now so I am taking advantage and uploading a few pictures :-)