I love this time of year, phone calls and messages, emails flood my inbox, wishes for a wonderful and prosperous new year. Thank you, thank you very much.
I am thankful, for friends, thankful for family, for neighbors and thoughtful strangers. It was great coming home to Uganda, spending time with those near and dear although I must say "home" has new meaning because for some weird reason Dallas is home too.
I'm thankful for my parents now more than ever and indebted to God for keeping them alive, who am I that He would grant me such a special gift? I don't take it for granted that all my siblings are alive and well.
I was hit with the realisation that friends are not written in stone, some come, some go and some stay no matter what. Right now I'm caught in the middle of acknowledging that distance does grow people apart but also like Deng Ming-Dao said “Those truly linked don’t need correspondence. When they meet again after many years apart, their friendship is as true as ever.” That said I'm compelled to "work hard to bridge the gaps between geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young."
Okay about 2009, keep the dreams alive,like King David said
God will give you the desires and secret petitions of your heart but on one condition (hehehe of course there is a catch), you've got to delight yourself in Him.
What does delight mean?
1. a high degree of pleasure or enjoyment; joy; rapture: She takes great delight in her job.
2. something that gives great pleasure: The dance was a delight to see.
3. to give great pleasure, satisfaction, or enjoyment to; please highly: The show delighted everyone.
4. to have great pleasure; take pleasure (fol. by in or an infinitive): She delights in going for long walks in the country
Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Instruct and direct one another using good common sense. And sing, sing your hearts out to God! Let every detail in your lives—words, actions, whatever—be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way. Colossians 3:16
Now how about that?!
Happy New Year!!!
Dec 31, 2008
Dec 30, 2008
"Be careful little eyes what you see"
I couldn't have heard this song at a more opportune time than I did yesterday. I heard a little girl singing "oh be careful little eyes what you see, be careful little eyes what you see, for the father up above is looking down in love, oh be careful little eyes what you see" and that caught my attention.
Everywhere, the magazines in the grocery store, the commercials on TV, the internet- you stumble onto stuff even when you are not searching. The people with whom we interact,the places we go, the things we say - everything.
Its the second glance that makes all the difference and Michs little feet are sure to follow after mom and dad.
I thought about myself and people in my life that are going through some serious pain because of the decisions they made. I'm thankful for the grace but sadly we have to pay and the price has been very dear.
Its not easy to follow and the Peter doesn't make it any easier when he says
"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness" 2Peter 1:3
For real? you mean I can do this? I have been equipped to live a godly life?
Not on my own I can't but through Christ who gives me the strength.
Here are the lyrics in case you want to sing along or just read them.
Slow Fade by Casting Crowns
Be careful little eyes what you see
It's the second glance that ties your hands as darkness pulls the strings
Be careful little feet where you go
For it's the little feet behind you that are sure to follow
It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
It's a slow fade, it's a slow fade
Be careful little ears what you hear
When flattery leads to compromise, the end is always near
Be careful little lips what you say
For empty words and promises lead broken hearts astray
It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
The journey from your mind to your hands
Is shorter than you're thinking
Be careful if you think you stand
You just might be sinking
It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
Daddies never crumble in a day
Families never crumble in a day
Oh be careful little eyes what see
Oh be careful little eyes what you see
For the Father up above is looking down in love
Oh be careful little eyes what you see
Everywhere, the magazines in the grocery store, the commercials on TV, the internet- you stumble onto stuff even when you are not searching. The people with whom we interact,the places we go, the things we say - everything.
Its the second glance that makes all the difference and Michs little feet are sure to follow after mom and dad.
I thought about myself and people in my life that are going through some serious pain because of the decisions they made. I'm thankful for the grace but sadly we have to pay and the price has been very dear.
Its not easy to follow and the Peter doesn't make it any easier when he says
"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness" 2Peter 1:3
For real? you mean I can do this? I have been equipped to live a godly life?
Not on my own I can't but through Christ who gives me the strength.
Here are the lyrics in case you want to sing along or just read them.
Slow Fade by Casting Crowns
Be careful little eyes what you see
It's the second glance that ties your hands as darkness pulls the strings
Be careful little feet where you go
For it's the little feet behind you that are sure to follow
It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
It's a slow fade, it's a slow fade
Be careful little ears what you hear
When flattery leads to compromise, the end is always near
Be careful little lips what you say
For empty words and promises lead broken hearts astray
It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
The journey from your mind to your hands
Is shorter than you're thinking
Be careful if you think you stand
You just might be sinking
It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
Daddies never crumble in a day
Families never crumble in a day
Oh be careful little eyes what see
Oh be careful little eyes what you see
For the Father up above is looking down in love
Oh be careful little eyes what you see
Dec 26, 2008
Christmas at Gaylord Texan
I know the name sounds a little weird but its only a name, there is nothing else to it - believe me I was there and I have pictures to show.
Sam and I woke up around 7 something to the sound of papers being wripped, somebody was opening the presents "santa" had placed under the tree. I don't know how Mich figured out which presents were his, well its not like there were that many to begin with but I suspect he thought "the bigger it is, the more likely it is to be mine".
When I asked him later he said, he just knew, he had prayed so there was no question about it - I love that faith.
Looks like Americans dont have church on Christmas day, we searched online but there was no church activity, you better do all your church activity on christmas eve and before - christmas day is for eating, going places and being with family.
We haven't developed any close friendships in the area yet so it was just the three of us. I'm not complaining, that's family right?!.
So we decided to take a ride on the town and then visit Gaylords Texan resort and convention center to check out the lights and christmas displays.
We visited the ice house that had hand carved ice kept at a frosty 9 degrees. It is so cold, all the visitors are given jackets as they line up to enter. The thing I found interesting about it all is that Chinese are flown in to actually do the sculpting, does it snow that much in China? how come they know more about this kind of thing?
The scenes I loved most where the nativity scene and the angel. Take a look
To crown the day we went to the cinema to watch a family movie. Made sure that it was a "G" rated movie, found 'The Tale of Despereaux' was the only one. I thought that would do, boy was I wrong or what?! bad idea completely. The story about a little mouse that wasnt afraid turned out to be a horror for Mich, he covered his eyes half the time and his little heart was beating like a drum. Who rates these movies anyway? there were some really spooky faces I was getting scared too.
And the story was not all that anyway, enough bad mouthing for the producers, it didnt spoil our day we went home and kept the merry spirit.
Dec 19, 2008
Mysteries
Children are mysteries, ok, let me rephrase that – Mich is a mystery, he is truly fearfully and wonderfully made.
From the time we were getting set to travel back to the states, he begun telling people how he is not going any where, that he is just escorting mummy, when daddy is through with work he will come home. In the mean time we were supposed to send him his bicycle – This from the boy who was always reminding his teachers and friends how he is going back to Dallas where he won’t be harassed to read and write – mbu.
Anyway to the last minutes at the airport, he was preaching the same gospel but when push came to shove he thought he would hold on to Nkosi and drag him along since his plan of staying wasn’t exactly working. It was an emotional time for me just watching him, crying and tagging his cousin along saying they had to go together. Nkosi had the look of – dude, I don’t know what you are about but I have nothing to do with this, you made your bed so you sleep in it.
After a while Mich let go and the most interesting thing happened, as soon as we crossed the customs line, he was all excited and bubbling about how he is going to see daddy and how it must be snowing in Dallas. People?! Just what are kids made of? I wish I had such buttons that can be switched at the snap of a finger. He totally forgot he was having issues.
The flight to Amsterdam was ok; he slept right through the 8 hour journey. Our only trouble was the landing bit when ear pressure set in and he wailed like a baby. He was quite happy that it was over only to realize we had another flight (my bad, I should have prepared him). Our flight from Amsterdam to Dallas Fort worth was 10 long hours, it felt like forever – we ate, slept, ate again, watched TV, slept, ate e.t.c
Finally landed at Dallas Fort worth airport at 2:10pm. I had to fill out a declaration form. If you carried billions of dollars, some animal in your luggage, had some food, vegetables, roots, meats, or such kinds of weird stuffs, then you indicated that yes I brought in some voodoo and so on. Now all I had was banana chips, curry powder, peanut butter – you know nothing major, so I didn’t think that was worth declaring. When asked by the officer if I had any food, I said well not really just some snacks. He asked me where I was coming from – Uganda, and how long have you been away? – five months. He smiled at me and asked me to follow line one. I should have known, the line comprised of mostly Asians and Africans. I guess its hard to believe that people can go to their native countries and not come back with food stuffs or something. An Asian was at the front of the cue being asked whether he had food, he quickly said no, then the lady checked his bags and pulled out all sorts of things – “sir, when I asked if you had any food you denied – this is food, this is food, this here is food”. When it was my turn, I said very quickly that I had food and that made my life easier.
Before long we were out and found Sam waiting, it was a good reunion. Mich was really happy to see his dad, gave him a big hug and was quiet the rest of the journey. I had to keep checking that he wasn’t a sleep, he seemed so content seeing mummy and daddy together again. I guess for him it’s the security, life is all good now. He is a different person now, listening to me, obeying immediately and just being a whole lot calmer, wow it’s unbelievable.
From the time we were getting set to travel back to the states, he begun telling people how he is not going any where, that he is just escorting mummy, when daddy is through with work he will come home. In the mean time we were supposed to send him his bicycle – This from the boy who was always reminding his teachers and friends how he is going back to Dallas where he won’t be harassed to read and write – mbu.
Anyway to the last minutes at the airport, he was preaching the same gospel but when push came to shove he thought he would hold on to Nkosi and drag him along since his plan of staying wasn’t exactly working. It was an emotional time for me just watching him, crying and tagging his cousin along saying they had to go together. Nkosi had the look of – dude, I don’t know what you are about but I have nothing to do with this, you made your bed so you sleep in it.
After a while Mich let go and the most interesting thing happened, as soon as we crossed the customs line, he was all excited and bubbling about how he is going to see daddy and how it must be snowing in Dallas. People?! Just what are kids made of? I wish I had such buttons that can be switched at the snap of a finger. He totally forgot he was having issues.
The flight to Amsterdam was ok; he slept right through the 8 hour journey. Our only trouble was the landing bit when ear pressure set in and he wailed like a baby. He was quite happy that it was over only to realize we had another flight (my bad, I should have prepared him). Our flight from Amsterdam to Dallas Fort worth was 10 long hours, it felt like forever – we ate, slept, ate again, watched TV, slept, ate e.t.c
Finally landed at Dallas Fort worth airport at 2:10pm. I had to fill out a declaration form. If you carried billions of dollars, some animal in your luggage, had some food, vegetables, roots, meats, or such kinds of weird stuffs, then you indicated that yes I brought in some voodoo and so on. Now all I had was banana chips, curry powder, peanut butter – you know nothing major, so I didn’t think that was worth declaring. When asked by the officer if I had any food, I said well not really just some snacks. He asked me where I was coming from – Uganda, and how long have you been away? – five months. He smiled at me and asked me to follow line one. I should have known, the line comprised of mostly Asians and Africans. I guess its hard to believe that people can go to their native countries and not come back with food stuffs or something. An Asian was at the front of the cue being asked whether he had food, he quickly said no, then the lady checked his bags and pulled out all sorts of things – “sir, when I asked if you had any food you denied – this is food, this is food, this here is food”. When it was my turn, I said very quickly that I had food and that made my life easier.
Before long we were out and found Sam waiting, it was a good reunion. Mich was really happy to see his dad, gave him a big hug and was quiet the rest of the journey. I had to keep checking that he wasn’t a sleep, he seemed so content seeing mummy and daddy together again. I guess for him it’s the security, life is all good now. He is a different person now, listening to me, obeying immediately and just being a whole lot calmer, wow it’s unbelievable.
Dec 15, 2008
I'm ba ack
Testing, testing, one two three.
Oooh its been ages but looks like every thing is working as it should. There is a lot to tell, dont know where to start from.
For now I will say it's good to be back on line. Landed at DFW last monday, was jetlagged for about four days, still getting into the system and will soon update you on whats been going on.
Oooh its been ages but looks like every thing is working as it should. There is a lot to tell, dont know where to start from.
For now I will say it's good to be back on line. Landed at DFW last monday, was jetlagged for about four days, still getting into the system and will soon update you on whats been going on.
Nov 11, 2008
Clueless
Who knew that raising a child would be so intense?
These months at home have exposed interesting traits in Mich that I never knew existed.
“I don’t want to greet”
“Mummy but why should I be polite?”
“That is not what I planned to do”
“Hugging people should not be all the time”
“No!”
“I’m not going to do it”
“No!”
“I will never ever go for a sleep over ever again”
“NO, NO, NO!!!!”
What happened to being kind and taking turns? what about being polite?, I thought these were things we had talked about and dealt with.
Maybe I wasn’t keen to nip these bad habits while they were budding.
I’m sure there are more responses than I could care to mention here.
It’s extremely embarrassing when a child acts contrary to “social norms”, all the blame is cast on the parents, particularly the mom.
At some point I felt hopeless- okay maybe that is a strong word but I really did, it seemed like the two years I spent with him didn’t make the desired impact.
I am now reminded that we are fallen creatures, we are sinful to the core that is just our nature, no one needs to teach us that. It’s the essence of who we are whether we are new arrivals on this planet or ancient inhabitants, we are wicked and that is why we all need Jesus.
I can force/coerce/command Mich to act the right way but as long as he doesn’t have a change of heart it’s all in vain. I need to teach him the principle behind the “do”, I need to help him realize the sinfulness of his very being and point him to Jesus. I have to constantly pray because this is in effect a battle of the soul.
I’m also coming to the conclusion that I probably haven’t been engaging him as I ought.
School has been a rather interesting experience these past few months. One day he is looking forward to it, the next he literally wants to shrivel and disappear at the thought. At the start I thought it was the adjusting process but as the days went by he wasn’t taking it any better. Different study styles? The content? The environment? The teachers? I don’t know. School in Philly was great - this is a whole different ball game.
Even then we are still in the adjusting mode, in a few weeks we will be in Dallas and the process is likely to start over again.
Quite apart from the fact that I feel overwhelmed and odd when Mich acts up in some weird new way, or says something I never imagined, I also acknowledge that he is in new surroundings. He is meeting new people everyday and doesn’t quite know where to place them – what part do they play in his life? How should he treat them?
For a long time it has just been mom and dad now every one here wants to be at the centre of his life (in a good way), his natural response is to protect or defend himself.
It has taken me a while to adjust to being back home how much more Mich who had no recollection of his home?
Last night it dawned on me that even though we tend to belittle kids feelings and reactions they are real and they are a result of something or the other. Mich woke up crying, when asked what the matter was he said he wanted his daddy – duh!
It’s been almost two months since Sam left to start work in Dallas.
How could I forget that a child needs the stability of having both parents around to feel secure and more especially when that is all he has known for the past four critical years of his life?
A child needs both parents, the love from mom and the firm hand from dad or vice versa depending on who has which strengths – or may be not. Maybe God has duties cut out for each parent and when one can’t have both he raises up someone else to play that part or equips the one available I don’t know.
I guess it takes for certain experiences to draw out the thoughts of the heart, if they are never provoked then we never know.
These months at home have exposed interesting traits in Mich that I never knew existed.
“I don’t want to greet”
“Mummy but why should I be polite?”
“That is not what I planned to do”
“Hugging people should not be all the time”
“No!”
“I’m not going to do it”
“No!”
“I will never ever go for a sleep over ever again”
“NO, NO, NO!!!!”
What happened to being kind and taking turns? what about being polite?, I thought these were things we had talked about and dealt with.
Maybe I wasn’t keen to nip these bad habits while they were budding.
I’m sure there are more responses than I could care to mention here.
It’s extremely embarrassing when a child acts contrary to “social norms”, all the blame is cast on the parents, particularly the mom.
At some point I felt hopeless- okay maybe that is a strong word but I really did, it seemed like the two years I spent with him didn’t make the desired impact.
I am now reminded that we are fallen creatures, we are sinful to the core that is just our nature, no one needs to teach us that. It’s the essence of who we are whether we are new arrivals on this planet or ancient inhabitants, we are wicked and that is why we all need Jesus.
I can force/coerce/command Mich to act the right way but as long as he doesn’t have a change of heart it’s all in vain. I need to teach him the principle behind the “do”, I need to help him realize the sinfulness of his very being and point him to Jesus. I have to constantly pray because this is in effect a battle of the soul.
I’m also coming to the conclusion that I probably haven’t been engaging him as I ought.
School has been a rather interesting experience these past few months. One day he is looking forward to it, the next he literally wants to shrivel and disappear at the thought. At the start I thought it was the adjusting process but as the days went by he wasn’t taking it any better. Different study styles? The content? The environment? The teachers? I don’t know. School in Philly was great - this is a whole different ball game.
Even then we are still in the adjusting mode, in a few weeks we will be in Dallas and the process is likely to start over again.
Quite apart from the fact that I feel overwhelmed and odd when Mich acts up in some weird new way, or says something I never imagined, I also acknowledge that he is in new surroundings. He is meeting new people everyday and doesn’t quite know where to place them – what part do they play in his life? How should he treat them?
For a long time it has just been mom and dad now every one here wants to be at the centre of his life (in a good way), his natural response is to protect or defend himself.
It has taken me a while to adjust to being back home how much more Mich who had no recollection of his home?
Last night it dawned on me that even though we tend to belittle kids feelings and reactions they are real and they are a result of something or the other. Mich woke up crying, when asked what the matter was he said he wanted his daddy – duh!
It’s been almost two months since Sam left to start work in Dallas.
How could I forget that a child needs the stability of having both parents around to feel secure and more especially when that is all he has known for the past four critical years of his life?
A child needs both parents, the love from mom and the firm hand from dad or vice versa depending on who has which strengths – or may be not. Maybe God has duties cut out for each parent and when one can’t have both he raises up someone else to play that part or equips the one available I don’t know.
I guess it takes for certain experiences to draw out the thoughts of the heart, if they are never provoked then we never know.
Oct 15, 2008
Miss blogging
Oh my blog, how I miss you.
It's just so hard to keep posting my stuff pronto.. The issues of typing it out, uploading it, getting to office... before I know it a month has gone by and the news is a wee bit stale but the struggle continues.
Since the last time I fumed about my buddies on the blog,we have since made up. They have called me up when I least expected, invited me to their homes, Mich has had sleep overs, so I'm a happier woman.
Meanwhile I was asked to lead worship as a back up, that was exciting reminded me of the good ol days.
Something else, I wrote an article and it was published in the Newvision newspaper, that was exciting, now I need to go collect my money. It's not much but hey! it's "ma ne".
Mich is still yoyoing with school, can't tell if he will be thrilled or bawling about going to school the next day.
It's just so hard to keep posting my stuff pronto.. The issues of typing it out, uploading it, getting to office... before I know it a month has gone by and the news is a wee bit stale but the struggle continues.
Since the last time I fumed about my buddies on the blog,we have since made up. They have called me up when I least expected, invited me to their homes, Mich has had sleep overs, so I'm a happier woman.
Meanwhile I was asked to lead worship as a back up, that was exciting reminded me of the good ol days.
Something else, I wrote an article and it was published in the Newvision newspaper, that was exciting, now I need to go collect my money. It's not much but hey! it's "ma ne".
Mich is still yoyoing with school, can't tell if he will be thrilled or bawling about going to school the next day.
Oct 4, 2008
Lost in transition
I came to Uganda anticipating a time of reconnecting with friends, church and former colleagues. Our first meetings were awesome, there was excitement seeing one another again. However if I bumped into them a third time it felt awkward. Somehow there is nothing more to say, so I’m thinking- maybe I should have kept my visit shorter then everything would have remained spicy. Now - yes we’ve met, yes we’ve said hello, yes we’ve kind of caught up but no, it’s not the same. “Life has happened” we have had different experiences that kind of stretch us in new directions, now we can’t exactly identify with one another.
Then I walk into church - the place I called my second home, the place where I once sang in the choir, the place where I knew almost every one and every one knew me.
I could hardly recognize the faces, I was being told not to do this, “move over there”, “uh no, you can’t sit there”, and by who? People I don’t even know, oh! Feels like coming back to my house and finding new occupants.
Nothing prepared me for that change, 2 weeks away from church is a long time, a thousand and one new things take place, what ever made me think that 2 years away would be anything less?
I continue to learn that comfort zones are a no no in Gods kingdom. He doesn’t want us to get to a place of complacency, a place of familiarity; He always wants us to be on our toes. I must admit I miss the good old days, but that’s what they are going to remain. The days when I would chat with almost every one, or the evenings we would have bible study then stay around hours after it was over just chatting. Pastor Gary would joke about how we stayed at church as though we didn’t have homes to go to.
Every where I turn there is a new face. It’s a good thing I guess - it means the church is growing; my only worry is that it might be growing wide but not deep but then again that is why we have cells.
“We are an English speaking cell based community church, celebrating Christ, growing and multiplying as each one reaches one, touching those around us with the love of Jesus, bringing healing to the city and to the nation”. That is the KPC vision.
Back to my friends and the awkwardness, it’s feels like there is some kind of embarrassment - avoiding eye contact like there is something to be ashamed of.
Ok, I need to get with the fact that things will not be the same, I have to embrace the new and move on.
In a matter of weeks I will be out of here, starting a new life in a different city so I better save my energies for the new relationships I’m going to pursue.
Then I walk into church - the place I called my second home, the place where I once sang in the choir, the place where I knew almost every one and every one knew me.
I could hardly recognize the faces, I was being told not to do this, “move over there”, “uh no, you can’t sit there”, and by who? People I don’t even know, oh! Feels like coming back to my house and finding new occupants.
Nothing prepared me for that change, 2 weeks away from church is a long time, a thousand and one new things take place, what ever made me think that 2 years away would be anything less?
I continue to learn that comfort zones are a no no in Gods kingdom. He doesn’t want us to get to a place of complacency, a place of familiarity; He always wants us to be on our toes. I must admit I miss the good old days, but that’s what they are going to remain. The days when I would chat with almost every one, or the evenings we would have bible study then stay around hours after it was over just chatting. Pastor Gary would joke about how we stayed at church as though we didn’t have homes to go to.
Every where I turn there is a new face. It’s a good thing I guess - it means the church is growing; my only worry is that it might be growing wide but not deep but then again that is why we have cells.
“We are an English speaking cell based community church, celebrating Christ, growing and multiplying as each one reaches one, touching those around us with the love of Jesus, bringing healing to the city and to the nation”. That is the KPC vision.
Back to my friends and the awkwardness, it’s feels like there is some kind of embarrassment - avoiding eye contact like there is something to be ashamed of.
Ok, I need to get with the fact that things will not be the same, I have to embrace the new and move on.
In a matter of weeks I will be out of here, starting a new life in a different city so I better save my energies for the new relationships I’m going to pursue.
Sep 30, 2008
Mich and school
It's almost a month since Mich started kindergarten in Kampala. We figured it would be a good experience for him, interacting, playing and learning with other kids.
The first day was a sweet sour experience, dropping him off and saying “bye Mich, see you later, be a good boy, have fun, don’t fight, I love you”. Now I know you may say, wasn’t Mich going to play school in Philly, why does school here have to be such a shake up? I don’t know.
I’m thinking that maybe it’s the seriousness with which school is regarded over here. In Philly reporting time was 9 o’clock, kids of all ages were in the same play area. There was no formality to it, no uniforms, and no classes as such. All I needed to do was sign him in, and make sure he has entered the class. From that point it was up to him to either join the kids playing with Lego, running around, painting, fixing puzzles, reading or playing instruments. Then at some point they would go to the play ground run around, have a little snack, listen to a story and then go home.
Mich’s first day at Aga Khan;
We drive into the school parking lot and the head mistress and one other teacher are eagerly welcoming children as they are being dropped off by their parents/guardians. Mich was given extra attention because this was his first day of school, we were escorted to the administration block where we met his class teacher. She had a wonderful smile and was extremely enthusiastic, it was a little scary. Then again she wasn’t the only one; all the other teachers had similar energy and enthusiasm. I thought hmm these teachers seem to love the children like they were their own, that’s a good thing.
Three hours later when I went to pick Mich up, I found them all seated on the school veranda waiting. Mich wasn’t there though, he was moving around with one of his teacher.
When I asked him how his day was he put on his serious face and said it wasn’t good, he didn’t like it. There was no explanation for why it wasn’t good, either that or he didn’t want to talk about it. The funny thing is he couldn’t stop talking about the different things he did, that left me a little confused.
Next morning he didn’t want to go to school so there was a lot of talk about how cool he would look in his new uniform and stuff, before I knew it he was off. He left me with instructions to be there on time, he wanted to find me waiting when he got out.
It’s interesting watching the kids, they all seem quite content, skipping around, taking interest in any adults around, talking to each other, smiling, laughing – it’s clear that they love school and they are loved. I saw this one little boy run towards one of the teachers and wrap his arms tightly around her legs – he was clearly thrilled to see her again after the holidays. That was a sign that the teachers are good.
So I waited for school to end and then children started trickling out of their classes to the waiting area.
I saw Mich bouncing along with a big grin on his face, he was clearly happy, he said ‘mummy today was a little better’, I knew that was an understatement because he was obviously tripping over himself with a wealth of stories.
The first day was a sweet sour experience, dropping him off and saying “bye Mich, see you later, be a good boy, have fun, don’t fight, I love you”. Now I know you may say, wasn’t Mich going to play school in Philly, why does school here have to be such a shake up? I don’t know.
I’m thinking that maybe it’s the seriousness with which school is regarded over here. In Philly reporting time was 9 o’clock, kids of all ages were in the same play area. There was no formality to it, no uniforms, and no classes as such. All I needed to do was sign him in, and make sure he has entered the class. From that point it was up to him to either join the kids playing with Lego, running around, painting, fixing puzzles, reading or playing instruments. Then at some point they would go to the play ground run around, have a little snack, listen to a story and then go home.
Mich’s first day at Aga Khan;
We drive into the school parking lot and the head mistress and one other teacher are eagerly welcoming children as they are being dropped off by their parents/guardians. Mich was given extra attention because this was his first day of school, we were escorted to the administration block where we met his class teacher. She had a wonderful smile and was extremely enthusiastic, it was a little scary. Then again she wasn’t the only one; all the other teachers had similar energy and enthusiasm. I thought hmm these teachers seem to love the children like they were their own, that’s a good thing.
Three hours later when I went to pick Mich up, I found them all seated on the school veranda waiting. Mich wasn’t there though, he was moving around with one of his teacher.
When I asked him how his day was he put on his serious face and said it wasn’t good, he didn’t like it. There was no explanation for why it wasn’t good, either that or he didn’t want to talk about it. The funny thing is he couldn’t stop talking about the different things he did, that left me a little confused.
Next morning he didn’t want to go to school so there was a lot of talk about how cool he would look in his new uniform and stuff, before I knew it he was off. He left me with instructions to be there on time, he wanted to find me waiting when he got out.
It’s interesting watching the kids, they all seem quite content, skipping around, taking interest in any adults around, talking to each other, smiling, laughing – it’s clear that they love school and they are loved. I saw this one little boy run towards one of the teachers and wrap his arms tightly around her legs – he was clearly thrilled to see her again after the holidays. That was a sign that the teachers are good.
So I waited for school to end and then children started trickling out of their classes to the waiting area.
I saw Mich bouncing along with a big grin on his face, he was clearly happy, he said ‘mummy today was a little better’, I knew that was an understatement because he was obviously tripping over himself with a wealth of stories.
Watoto Conference - Celebrate the African Child
The show was described as “a unique cultural experience” – but in simple terms I would call it a praise rally. The Watoto children showed amazing talent, singing and dancing. We were transported to the central part of Uganda - Buganda for the “Bakusimba” dance, then all the way up North - Gulu for the “Bwola” dance, down to the west – Ankole for the “Kitogoro” and then flew to America for some hip-hop.
The Bakusimba dance involves vigorous movement of the back side (seriously, I’m not making this up) and legs to the rhythm of the drum. The Bwola dance (my favorite) is a dance of celebration involving movement of every part of the body. I loved the way the girls smiled and moved their necks back and forth gracefully like birds, they shook their waists from side to side and their legs moved like they were being pushed by a force which they were trying to resist. The leader would blow her whistle signaling the dancers to change formation.
The boys - I just love the way they dance, had feathers tied on their heads and calabashes in hand, as they danced they hit the calabashes with metal sticks making a “kwara kwara” sound.
The Kitogoro dance I think relates to cattle because the Banyankole are known to have large herds. The girls danced and raised their hands indicating the length of their cattle horns. The Ankole cattle have the longest horns in Uganda.
I sat in the parking lot, the place designated for the hundreds of people who couldn’t get into the main auditorium. It was the best place to sing and dance and make lots of noise.
Then to crown it all we had a show case of fire works, I tried to take a few pictures and this is how they turned out.
We all started home after that, looking forward to the Festival of Hope where all the KPC celebration points gathered at the Mandela Stadium.
The Bakusimba dance involves vigorous movement of the back side (seriously, I’m not making this up) and legs to the rhythm of the drum. The Bwola dance (my favorite) is a dance of celebration involving movement of every part of the body. I loved the way the girls smiled and moved their necks back and forth gracefully like birds, they shook their waists from side to side and their legs moved like they were being pushed by a force which they were trying to resist. The leader would blow her whistle signaling the dancers to change formation.
The boys - I just love the way they dance, had feathers tied on their heads and calabashes in hand, as they danced they hit the calabashes with metal sticks making a “kwara kwara” sound.
The Kitogoro dance I think relates to cattle because the Banyankole are known to have large herds. The girls danced and raised their hands indicating the length of their cattle horns. The Ankole cattle have the longest horns in Uganda.
I sat in the parking lot, the place designated for the hundreds of people who couldn’t get into the main auditorium. It was the best place to sing and dance and make lots of noise.
Then to crown it all we had a show case of fire works, I tried to take a few pictures and this is how they turned out.
We all started home after that, looking forward to the Festival of Hope where all the KPC celebration points gathered at the Mandela Stadium.
Sep 29, 2008
Watoto Conference Day 3
The show was described as “a unique cultural experience” – but in simple terms I would call it a praise rally. The Watoto children showed amazing talent, singing and dancing. We traveled to central part of Uganda - Buganda for the “Bakusimba” dance, then all the way up North - Gulu for the “Bwola” dance, down to the west – Ankole for the “Kitogoro” and then flew to America for some hip-hop.
The Bakusimba dance involves vigorous movement of the back side (seriously, I’m not making this up) and legs to the rhythm of the drum. The Bwola dance (my favorite) is a dance of celebration involving movement of every part of the body. I loved the way the girls smiled and moved their necks back and forth gracefully like birds, they shook their waists from side to side and their legs moved like they were being pushed by a force which they were trying to resist, all to the rhythm of the drum. The leader would blow her whistle signaling the dancers to change formation.
The boys, I just love the way they dance, had feathers tied on their heads and calabashes in hand, they danced and the hit the calabashes with sticks making a “kwara kwara” sound.
The Kitogoro dance I think relates to cattle because the Banyankole are known to have large herds. The girls danced and raised their hands indicating the length of their cattle horns. The Ankole cattle have the longest horn in Uganda.
I sat in the parking lot, the place designated for the hundreds of people who couldn’t get into the main auditorium. It was the best place to sing and dance and make lots of noise.
Then to crown it all we had a show case of fire works, I tried to take a few pictures and this is how they turned out.
We all started home after that, looking forward to the Festival of Hope that all the KPC celebration points gather
The Bakusimba dance involves vigorous movement of the back side (seriously, I’m not making this up) and legs to the rhythm of the drum. The Bwola dance (my favorite) is a dance of celebration involving movement of every part of the body. I loved the way the girls smiled and moved their necks back and forth gracefully like birds, they shook their waists from side to side and their legs moved like they were being pushed by a force which they were trying to resist, all to the rhythm of the drum. The leader would blow her whistle signaling the dancers to change formation.
The boys, I just love the way they dance, had feathers tied on their heads and calabashes in hand, they danced and the hit the calabashes with sticks making a “kwara kwara” sound.
The Kitogoro dance I think relates to cattle because the Banyankole are known to have large herds. The girls danced and raised their hands indicating the length of their cattle horns. The Ankole cattle have the longest horn in Uganda.
I sat in the parking lot, the place designated for the hundreds of people who couldn’t get into the main auditorium. It was the best place to sing and dance and make lots of noise.
Then to crown it all we had a show case of fire works, I tried to take a few pictures and this is how they turned out.
We all started home after that, looking forward to the Festival of Hope that all the KPC celebration points gather
Sep 27, 2008
Watoto Conference
KPC organized the 2nd Watoto Conference, hosting delegates from all over Africa and around the world. There were 500 delegates all together, 250 from Africa, 50 from the churches around Kampala and 200 from other parts of the world.Gary feels God has called him to carry the vision of looking after widows and orphans, in Uganda they are mainly victims of the LRA war in Northern Uganda. The purpose of the conference was really to equip other pastors in Africa to replicate the Watoto model.
He put it something like this; - Hill song Australia is known for their wonderful worship, Yunghu Chow is known for the Cell model, and God has called him to lead in regard to looking after the widows and orphans.
The conference started on Wednesday but for many reasons I couldn’t attend, so I figured I would go for the Thursday morning session. It was open to the public and less crowded – I tell you, I don’t click KPC these days, its jam packed, actually over flowing and then some. Everybody wants to be the “one”, at some point if feels like competition. I will tell you that Sunday service kind of feels like getting into a movie theatre without allocated seating. Every one is rushing to enter and take a seat before the show begins, if you are late too bad, all the seats are gone, then the ushers try to find spaces, if not you are kindly or unkindly ushered to the overflow and that sucks.
Anyway I was talking about how I opted to attend the morning session. At 9 prompt, the worship begun, it was lead by non other than Darlene herself. I love her heart for God, she seems sold out through and through, she puts all her energies right there and you can see it. The music filled the temple, it was loud and clear and exciting, I jumped and danced, it’s always wonderful to ‘let down my hair’ in the presence of the Lord and among His people.
Marilyn Skinner talked about using our Christian faith to bring justice and hope, she quoted Jeremiah 22 that talks about putting the wrong things right. We as Christians should be impressed to make the community livable again.
She invited David a former LRA abducted child soldier to testify, my! You could have heard a pin drop as David’s story unfolded. I just thought, man! There times I think I have experienced some really painful things until I hear someone else tell what burden they are carrying.
David looked about 19 years old, he spoke slowly and clearly about how the LRA forced him to kill every living creature in the village as a form of initiation. When he accomplished that, he was congratulated with 150 strokes of the cane. He was told to get a uniform and a gun from a government soldier and of course the only way to do that was by killing him. He was told to kill babies by tying them to a tree and hitting them until they died. Oh! My heart broke, no one created in the image and likeness of God should ever do such things or have such things done to them. I was crushed.
Then he shared about the hope he now has in Christ, the night mares are gone, he is looking to a bright future and aspires to be a doctor.
The next speaker came as a big surprise to me; he was the last person I imagined but yet again the most appropriate. Norbert Mao, LC5 for Gulu district. He had an interesting speech. For starters he is not born again, he is a politician, so the whole idea of giving a talk in church was, well, uncomfortable (he said so himself).
I liked the fact that he embraced the opportunity; he said the one thing he had in common with Gary and Marilyn was they all ended up where they didn’t intend – Gary looking after widows and orphans, him becoming the M.P for Gulu.
He mentioned how Young Egland had called the war in Northern Uganda one the worlds most forgotten conflicts.
He acknowledged that Him and Gary were serving God in different ways and how that was an opportunity for them to partner. He said “There is no better place to start but through spiritual renewal”.
He ended on the most interesting note. A child once asked an adult what Jesus said when He rose from the dead, the adult was at a loss and the kid informed the adult that Jesus said “ta-da!” So just when the people of Northern Uganda thought all hope was lost, “ta-da!” Jesus showed up, Gary showed up and so on.
At the end of the morning session we were all in tears, I felt God was saying his heart is bleeding for these children.
After that Dr. Robi Sonderegger talked about his involvement in training the people in trauma rehabilitation. It’s about rescuing the widows and orphans (even the men), raising them up and rebuilding their lives. “It’s about people and community” he said, God is calling us to serve our community.
The next session I attended was Thursday evening, I got to the church and found a thick loooong line, people cueing up to enter the church. It was a sight to behold, I’m sure some people might have just turned around and gone home.
Turns out that the cue was for those interested in sitting in the auditorium, I didn’t mind sitting outside so I gladly went to the over flow. Security was tight, the volunteers were giving orders about where to sit, it was rather upsetting. I had never been on this side of things, I was always on the inside with the choir. Now I’m not sure if this is what all the other church members feel or it’s because I’ve known better.The evening session begun and as I cried out to the Lord about how lost I felt, not feeling at home, at home, He asked me, “who are you looking for?”, that was enough to shut me up. I had a wonderful time, “I couldn’t find myself in Philly, and I can’t find myself in Uganda, but I always find Jesus”, that was the main point, what more would a woman want?
Sep 23, 2008
Silence
Man! it's almost a month since I last posted anything here, I can't believe it.
Ok, it's crazy over here, everything is crazy and jammed, I don't even know where to start. But boy do I have a thousand and one stories to tell.
Watch this space
Ok, it's crazy over here, everything is crazy and jammed, I don't even know where to start. But boy do I have a thousand and one stories to tell.
Watch this space
Sep 15, 2008
A getaway at Governors Club Gayaza
It was nice to finally get away from the chaos in the city, to lie back, read, eat, sleep and stretch in a serene environment.
After two years of hurried moments together, going on dates and thinking about getting back home because the baby sitter is charging $10 for every hour and considering that the count begins the minute we stepped out the door – this break was much needed. I knew that coming back to Kampala would give me the chance to leave Mich at home and go on a date with Sam where I would actually be present with him – body, mind and all.
I found out about a fantastic get-away location somewhere out of town. After I made enquiries I received a call almost every other day to confirm when and at what time we would be arriving. When the owner himself called, I thought this is really serious, this place must be something else.
The journey was long and dusty; it felt like we were driving to the end of civilization. We set out at about 3:30pm and were on the road for about an hour before we got to the last land mark we had been given. We asked a guard for directions but instead he signaled us to follow him, that was strange because we were driving and he was on foot. Anyway we drove slowly behind him until we reached a gate then he showed us the way. But we were thinking, he could have easily given us the directions from the start, there was nothing complicated but he certainly made us feel like it was a secret hideout that one doesn’t speak about idly.
There were no shops near by but stretches of grass and more grass, Sam hoped it was worth the drive because there is nothing like getting to an island and realizing that it’s not all that and yet there is no turning back.
We loved the place, it was certainly an oasis right in the middle of a desert, worth the journey. We drunk it in, and our thirst was quenched. A huge house built right in the middle of a huge compound, surrounded by huge trees. Once inside its gates you forgot the busy, chaotic, jam packed, potholed, dusty city with all it’s cares outside. The flowers and potted plants looked like they each had a personal gardener whose life depended on seeing them flourish. Nature smiled upon us with a contentment that we couldn’t deny because the feeling was mutual. The breath of fresh, pure, clean air, birds cooing and chirping, cows mooing, goats bleating in the distance, the sound of the wind tickling the leaves as they swayed from side to side served as a medicine for the body and mind.
I felt like I was visiting a rich uncle who happened to be out of town but gave us the key to his house and the services of his servants.
Two young men tended to us for the entire time we were there, they cooked some really awesome meals.
As we waited to have diner I read the novel that I’d carried – “A Thousand Splendid Suns” by Hosseini Khaled. Simply amazing, I love his nark for detail, his descriptions of places and events is so rich you could literally see it happening. But even with all this I could not deny the hunger pangs that were pinching at my intestines. Meanwhile the Youngman in the kitchen was not helping because the whiff sailing into the sitting room was to die for. I begun to thank God for the ingredients – cooking oil, onions, green pepper, tomatoes, carrots, I thanked God for chicken and all those nice things and all this an hour before it was ready.
By the time we were invited to the table I was in sprint mode.
I found it interesting that we were never asked what we wanted to eat, we ate what the cook thought best for the day. It was kind of nice anticipating and guessing what was for dinner, the surprise was part of the fun.
The pillows were brick-hard, the room was boiling hot but it was still good to be there.
Next morning I managed to catch the sun rising, it was a magnificent sight. With the sounds of the animals rousing, belting out good mornings to each other, birds warming their vocals and then singing sweetly, the smell of the morning dew and looking up into the clear blue sky, there is no doubt in my mind that there is a God and creation rises to honor Him.
Later that morning with the sun not yet in full glare, we went horse riding through the village. Ibrahim taught us how to mount a horse, place the left leg in the hook and swing the right leg over the horse to get onto its back. I went first, when it was Sam’s turn, he swung and the next time I looked he was down on the other side of the horse. Turns out that he swung a little too hard hehehe. Now I laugh but it wasn’t so funny then.
Ibrahim also told us that to make the horse trot or move faster we had to kick it sides, to stop – pull the rope tight around its mouth, to move left or right – pull the rope in that particular direction. It’s amazing how well trained the horses were.
People in the village hardly see the horses and when they do they prefer to keep their distance, I was thinking ‘what kind of harm would a horse do to some one who isn’t bothering it?’ but anyway …
I think horses are one of the most elegant animals I know. I love the fact that they are not too big, they are steady, goodness they are just beautiful, what else can I say?
Hmm! Reminds me of the fact that I still get teary eyed watching ‘Animal Farm’, especially when ‘Boxer’ is being taken away.
The children on the other hand were thrilled, they stopped what ever they were doing, run up to the road side and shouted ‘embaraasi, embaraasi’, I imagine that is the word for horse in luganda.
Aug 24, 2008
Me and the Police
I don’t quite know what it is yet but I seem to be attracting police like bees to a flower.
So, last Tuesday I’m driving into town with Mich and this police lady signals for me to stop and park at the road side. Sure no problem I park and wait for her to come up. She looks into the car and comments about how Mich looks like me after which she waves me off. That left me a little confused, okay seems the police are getting a lot friendlier, they just stop you to have a chart and check out family members. I found that quite funny but you know continued on my way. Mich was buckled in at the back so maybe that was what she wanted to check.
Then just yesterday, I’m driving into town for a lunch date when again a police man signals for me to slow down and park at the road side. I comply, park and wait for him to come round. He asked to see my driving permit (shoot!!! I didn’t have it with me, and even if I did it’s expired seeing as I have been away for two years and wasn’t exactly thinking of renewing it for the 3 months that I will be here). I told the officer that unfortunately I didn’t have it with me. Now that was offence number one. Then he asks me if the insurance was up to date and it was yeee! (One less worry). He walks around the car, looks at the tires and mentions how they need replacing (okay).
“But now madam, I have two cases with you, you don’t have a permit and the tires of your car should have been replaced long time ago” (of course I am paraphrasing but it’s quite similar). “Now you see”, he brings out his book that shows the fines for driving without a permit and driving a ram shackled car (my words) and the total cost came up to about shs 90, 000/=. I’m thinking boy oh boy! Am I done for or what?
The officer then asks me who owns the car and I say ‘my husband’, so he asks me to call Sam. Thankfully I had some airtime on my phone so I call Sam and brief him before handing over the phone. They talk for a bit before he hands the phone back to me, Sam somehow hopes he will let me go.
So after the phone call the officer stands around for a bit before asking me if I am a good woman. That left me speechless, “good woman?” what do you mean?, the first thing that came to mind was the EE (Evangelism Explosion) question “if you stand before God and He were to ask you, why should I let you into heaven, what would you say?” and if one answered that they had been good then the next statement would be we can’t get in because of good works. Now why my thoughts took such a tangent, I don’t know. Anyway I still didn’t have an answer for the police man. So he tells me to park the car and go and pay. I told him I didn’t know where to go. At this point the other policemen come around and comment on how he had kept me so long. He then said, “ok madam, go and work on those tires and come back here”, then I said “ do I need to do this immediately because I’m almost late for an appointment”. At this point he tells me to write down my name and number so he can call me incase I take long to return.
I jot it down for him and prepare to drive off, he looks at the piece of paper and says “Ongwen?” are you luo?”, I said “no my husband is, but I come from soroti”. Then he greets me in the local language “akironyo?”- how are you and I answer “ejokuna”- I am fine (I wasn’t fine, I don’t know why I said I was fine). He then laughs and says “eh, you mean I was going to charge my muko? (in-law). Then he finally says “tell Ongwen the police man needs a fat chicken” and that was the end.
Phew! Ugandan police! At the end of the day I was glad that he let me go but I also know he was very sympathetic. We shall not talk about the crazy way things work this side of the world, I just know if this had happened in Philly I would have gotten a ticket in the first 10 seconds and there would be no discussion, or exchange of niceties.
So, last Tuesday I’m driving into town with Mich and this police lady signals for me to stop and park at the road side. Sure no problem I park and wait for her to come up. She looks into the car and comments about how Mich looks like me after which she waves me off. That left me a little confused, okay seems the police are getting a lot friendlier, they just stop you to have a chart and check out family members. I found that quite funny but you know continued on my way. Mich was buckled in at the back so maybe that was what she wanted to check.
Then just yesterday, I’m driving into town for a lunch date when again a police man signals for me to slow down and park at the road side. I comply, park and wait for him to come round. He asked to see my driving permit (shoot!!! I didn’t have it with me, and even if I did it’s expired seeing as I have been away for two years and wasn’t exactly thinking of renewing it for the 3 months that I will be here). I told the officer that unfortunately I didn’t have it with me. Now that was offence number one. Then he asks me if the insurance was up to date and it was yeee! (One less worry). He walks around the car, looks at the tires and mentions how they need replacing (okay).
“But now madam, I have two cases with you, you don’t have a permit and the tires of your car should have been replaced long time ago” (of course I am paraphrasing but it’s quite similar). “Now you see”, he brings out his book that shows the fines for driving without a permit and driving a ram shackled car (my words) and the total cost came up to about shs 90, 000/=. I’m thinking boy oh boy! Am I done for or what?
The officer then asks me who owns the car and I say ‘my husband’, so he asks me to call Sam. Thankfully I had some airtime on my phone so I call Sam and brief him before handing over the phone. They talk for a bit before he hands the phone back to me, Sam somehow hopes he will let me go.
So after the phone call the officer stands around for a bit before asking me if I am a good woman. That left me speechless, “good woman?” what do you mean?, the first thing that came to mind was the EE (Evangelism Explosion) question “if you stand before God and He were to ask you, why should I let you into heaven, what would you say?” and if one answered that they had been good then the next statement would be we can’t get in because of good works. Now why my thoughts took such a tangent, I don’t know. Anyway I still didn’t have an answer for the police man. So he tells me to park the car and go and pay. I told him I didn’t know where to go. At this point the other policemen come around and comment on how he had kept me so long. He then said, “ok madam, go and work on those tires and come back here”, then I said “ do I need to do this immediately because I’m almost late for an appointment”. At this point he tells me to write down my name and number so he can call me incase I take long to return.
I jot it down for him and prepare to drive off, he looks at the piece of paper and says “Ongwen?” are you luo?”, I said “no my husband is, but I come from soroti”. Then he greets me in the local language “akironyo?”- how are you and I answer “ejokuna”- I am fine (I wasn’t fine, I don’t know why I said I was fine). He then laughs and says “eh, you mean I was going to charge my muko? (in-law). Then he finally says “tell Ongwen the police man needs a fat chicken” and that was the end.
Phew! Ugandan police! At the end of the day I was glad that he let me go but I also know he was very sympathetic. We shall not talk about the crazy way things work this side of the world, I just know if this had happened in Philly I would have gotten a ticket in the first 10 seconds and there would be no discussion, or exchange of niceties.
Aug 21, 2008
Kitante
I took a trip to my elementary school for old time’s sake the other day and also to see who of my teachers were still there.
My! Walking through the school was nostalgic; it brought tears to my eyes. The school is pretty much the same- memories of sitting in class, running and playing on the swings came rushing back to me like it was only yesterday. But for some reason everything seems to have shrunk, the school is so much smaller than it was back then, I guess I was looking at it from a different angle.
Looking at the lower school waiting shed I smiled, I recalled the anxiety, the fun and laughter as we waited to be picked up by our parents.
I passed by the class rooms, pupils talking at the top of their voices. Boy! Do I remember the many times we were asked to keep quiet, but it was extremely difficult. We had class prefects who were assigned the duty of jotting down names of talkative pupils.
Once I recall a teacher knocking my head against that of my friend because we had been talking in class. Now I think… even though it is a discipline to be learned, children have a lot going through their little brains that keeping it all inside is a real task. Especially if they don’t have a teacher standing in front of them or if they are not doing an exam or some kind of activity that requires silence. In Mich’s play school there was a sign on the wall that said “use your inner voice”, what ever that means.
I walked passed the amphitheatre and I could literally imagine it filled with girls all dressed in Red and white or Grey and white for the boys. Then down at what I will call the stage for lack of a better word I could see the head master Mr. Ssozi seated across from the school assembly. The head boy sitting and the head girl sitting at his left and right respectively with two scouts standing at attention on each end of the table. Sweet!
I loved the school assemblies in the amphitheatre; we would get to hear interesting news from around the world.
It was at such assemblies that the cleanest boy and girl of the week were announced and they each got a trophy. We also had about 45 minutes of entertainment in music and dance by the class whose turn it would be that week. Hmmmmmm.
I walked passed the amphitheatre and I could literally imagine it filled with girls all dressed in Red and white or Grey and white for the boys. Then down at what I will call the stage for lack of a better word I could see the head master Mr. Ssozi seated across from the school assembly. The head boy sitting and the head girl sitting at his left and right respectively with two scouts standing at attention on each end of the table. Sweet!
I loved the school assemblies in the amphitheatre; we would get to hear interesting news from around the world.
It was at such assemblies that the cleanest boy and girl of the week were announced and they each got a trophy. We also had about 45 minutes of entertainment in music and dance by the class whose turn it would be that week. Hmmmmmm.
I continued on to the rest of the classes 3 to7, its funny how the noise and shuffling lessened as I went further up the lane. P3 had the loudest children, P4 was less noisy, P5 was even quieter, P6 and P7, dead silent. I walked up to the door of the one of the P7 classes and I could have sworn it was empty, only to peep in a see a full class of pupils engrossed in study.
After taking my tour of the school I walked up to the administration block, said hello to the secretary and asked if I could pop in to see the headmaster. She asked me to wait a short while after which she ushered me in and there was my P6 Class teacher, Mr. Senabulya - he is now the headmaster. He immediately recognized me, I didn’t have to introduce myself, that felt real good. We talked for a while, reminiscing the good old days.
Aug 14, 2008
Riding ATV's in Jinja
So, Becca my Pastor/Pastor’s wife in Philly is in Uganda doing some research on Micro- Finance organizations. It’s a coincidence that her visit came together after Sam and I had come home, so we get to host her and take her around Kampala.I think she is having an interesting time, I wish her trip was planned a little later in the year because we have only been here a month and are still trying to make our way around. She’s probably wondering if we have any friends because she hasn’t met any of them. Some how getting to see friends gets more complicated after being away for a long time: one has got to make an appointment, or try tracing people. But really the big issue for me is quite another. I haven’t met my friends so setting a date to meet them with Becca before having our own catch-up time is weird.
Anyway all that aside we have tried to take Becca around, to give her an idea of what Uganda and Ugandans are like.
Last Saturday we went up to Jinja, to a place called Bujagali, on the River Nile. Man! I just realized that it probably would have been wise to tell her that it was going to be a long drive, but alas! We took it for granted. Now I’m thinking she probably wondered where on earth we were going.
We thought taking a ride on ATV’s (which I keep mistaking for ARV’s) would be fun. ATV stands for All Terrain Adventures; it’s a guided quad-bike ride along the River Nile and through the villages.
I didn’t know how much hard work was required. We got dressed and were each assigned a quad-bike, huge! I tell you. They are like motor cycles with four huge wheels, now because I was the least familiar with the machine our guide put me in the middle of the group. So it was the guide at the front, Becca right after, me, then Sam and Mich at the back. After instructions and all we did a test drive to get familiar with the machines. That wasn’t too bad. The first test route was pretty simple, then the guide took us to a more complex route. I was concentrating on keeping on the path, not falling off, generally being as careful as possible just to keep up with the basics. It had just rained so the place had lots of muddy pools/ditches. Just as we started the second route I was concentrating on my machine only to look up and see Becca’s bike tipping over and before I knew it the wheels were up in the air and Becca was under. Boy oh boy!!! I freaked out. I was thinking what are we going to tell Brad? we took his wife to the jungle and she broke her neck riding one of these ARV’s I mean ATV’s oh oh!!, not good. Now because I was still trying to steady myself and master this machine I wasn’t able to run up to Becca. The guide was able to get there in good time, I saw Becca get out from under the huge bike. Phew! That was a relief, she was safe, she walked away like nothing had happened. We finally got to her and she seemed ok, just a few bruises.
All in the name of experiencing Uganda, I hope she enjoyed it too, accidents and all aside.
On the ATV's
Mabira forest
Tea plantation
Ndere Centre
Last sunday Sam and I took Becca to Ndere Center just to give her a taste of the Ugandan culture in dance.
Aug 13, 2008
Goings on
I'm still feeling lost even after being home for a month, somehow I haven't found my footing yet. There just seems to be a lot going on everywhere that I somewhat feel disorganised. I miss the quietness in Philly (how ironic), but at least I was able to put my thoughts together and know where Mary was at. I was so in touch with myself.
Well some one mentioned that maybe the fact that I'm not in my own home adds to the unease and may be I'm still in the reverse culture shock phase.
It's still good to be home non the less.
I haven't been able to meet many of my friends yet and I guess that's good because I get to meet them one by one. I have met a few so far and I was just sharing with Becca that I thought I went through quite a bit in Philly but sitting down to talk with my friends almost every single one of them has been close to tears because they too have had some rough patches. I like the fact that we are able to understand one another, even though the situations are different, the trials are the same. It's wonderful to know that when everything is shaking we can hold on to Jesus the solid rock. I'm thankful that He is the common denominator so to speak, we all run to Him and find ways of empathising and encouraging one another.
My pastor Becca is visiting from Philly and Sam and I are happy to show her around. Having been away for two years doesn't help because it turns out that we are learning some of the changes together. I wish I was more familiar with the joints than I am then maybe she would have an even better time.
I'm sure she will have lots of stories to tell about her trip to Uganda- our crazy traffic, dusty roads, motorcycles, little kids staring at her and calling her 'muzungu' (white person). The other day we were walking up the road when a little girl run up to Becca and gave her a big hug. That was interesting. The mother was speechless.
Man! Becca hasn't even met our friends, hmmm! she might have to make another trip to Uganda the way things are going.
Well some one mentioned that maybe the fact that I'm not in my own home adds to the unease and may be I'm still in the reverse culture shock phase.
It's still good to be home non the less.
I haven't been able to meet many of my friends yet and I guess that's good because I get to meet them one by one. I have met a few so far and I was just sharing with Becca that I thought I went through quite a bit in Philly but sitting down to talk with my friends almost every single one of them has been close to tears because they too have had some rough patches. I like the fact that we are able to understand one another, even though the situations are different, the trials are the same. It's wonderful to know that when everything is shaking we can hold on to Jesus the solid rock. I'm thankful that He is the common denominator so to speak, we all run to Him and find ways of empathising and encouraging one another.
My pastor Becca is visiting from Philly and Sam and I are happy to show her around. Having been away for two years doesn't help because it turns out that we are learning some of the changes together. I wish I was more familiar with the joints than I am then maybe she would have an even better time.
I'm sure she will have lots of stories to tell about her trip to Uganda- our crazy traffic, dusty roads, motorcycles, little kids staring at her and calling her 'muzungu' (white person). The other day we were walking up the road when a little girl run up to Becca and gave her a big hug. That was interesting. The mother was speechless.
Man! Becca hasn't even met our friends, hmmm! she might have to make another trip to Uganda the way things are going.
Aug 5, 2008
Assuming
"Hi Mary, it's good to see you .... when are you going back?"
"How are the children? .... only one? I thought they were two... Mich needs someone to play with..."
Without exaggeration this is how most conversations have begun since I got back. Then I wonder, "who says I am going back?", "even if I am, why don't you just enjoy the time I'm here for?, "who says I don't want other children?" "do you know whats been going on?".
I concluded that people are very presumptuous. The only person who asked an open ended question was Pastor Doug, he said "Mary are you here for a visit?" I found that a lot warmer.
Meanwhile some of the church folk are considering calling Sam and I in for counselling because we don't have other children. Sometimes these remarks can be very insensitive. I thank God that he healed me and helped me deal with giving back Nziiza and Kwizera other wise it would feel like they are touching sore spots.
"How are the children? .... only one? I thought they were two... Mich needs someone to play with..."
Without exaggeration this is how most conversations have begun since I got back. Then I wonder, "who says I am going back?", "even if I am, why don't you just enjoy the time I'm here for?, "who says I don't want other children?" "do you know whats been going on?".
I concluded that people are very presumptuous. The only person who asked an open ended question was Pastor Doug, he said "Mary are you here for a visit?" I found that a lot warmer.
Meanwhile some of the church folk are considering calling Sam and I in for counselling because we don't have other children. Sometimes these remarks can be very insensitive. I thank God that he healed me and helped me deal with giving back Nziiza and Kwizera other wise it would feel like they are touching sore spots.
Jul 28, 2008
More on Kampala
We’ve been back two weeks now and I still can’t get over how crowded Kampala is. The song thats constantly on my mind is “No air” by Jordan Sparks and Chris Brown.
The city is mighty crowded and that is quite apart from the fact that it seems to be the only song that plays on Bosco’s radio. I keep wondering what station he listens to because clearly they need some help. It almost feels like ‘No air’ plays every after two songs. Bosco is our helper by the way.
There are days I have wanted to just fly home and hide, just to get away from the city madness. There are people every where, then the vehicles, motorcycles (bodas) and dust seem to take the rest of the unoccupied space.
Once I came home and rushed straight to my room, hoping that I could have some peace and quiet but just as I was about to sigh "aaaaah finally!!" the loudest mosquito I ever heard came buzzing around. Oh boy!! One can not even sit still because the mosquitoes will have a field day, probably getting drunk on my blood.
I have been around town a little bit but it looks like some habits crept in on me while in Philly and shaking them off takes a conscious effort. I learned over time to mind my own business, walking through the streets of Philly. There was hardly a chance to stop and greet any one, or smile and acknowledge other people, no body seemed to have time for that. So I learned to have a straight face.
I get back home and man! Even in the taxi- this lady sits next to me and says “hello”. I first looked to see if I knew her but clearly I didn’t, so there was a pause there before I responded.
Life in Kampala goes on hold if things are not preceded with a greeting. I was trying to get a motorcycle ride (boda) the other day but the guy would not barge before we exchanged a greeting. Now in Philly, the few times I tried to greet people it just seemed like I was wasting their time. “Good Morning?”, “good afternoon?” “good …?” - who cares?, just get right to the point and tell me what you want.
Meanwhile another interesting experience - I walked into a café to check mail but either the lady just didn’t like me or something. I stood in front of her for close to a minute before she acknowledged my presence. Then with what seemed like a great effort she told me what it cost and with a heavy hand pointed to the computer that was available. Boy! Had I forgotten our people or what? Any way life goes on.
Checking mail in an internet café is tougher than getting a tooth removed, either it takes for ever to open the pages or the mouse is acting up or something.
I have decided to sneak into the worldbank once in a while to do what I have to do.
We took the bus to Soroti to visit my parents. I thought I would take photos and journal just as I had done in Philly. That was absolutely silly of me, how could I forget that Ugandans are not too thrilled with cameras?! so I nearly got roughed up, seriously.
I was supposed to have greeted the men, told them I was going to take a picture of the bus for leisure or whatever and then allow them to pose for the photo or get out of the way.
The city is mighty crowded and that is quite apart from the fact that it seems to be the only song that plays on Bosco’s radio. I keep wondering what station he listens to because clearly they need some help. It almost feels like ‘No air’ plays every after two songs. Bosco is our helper by the way.
There are days I have wanted to just fly home and hide, just to get away from the city madness. There are people every where, then the vehicles, motorcycles (bodas) and dust seem to take the rest of the unoccupied space.
Once I came home and rushed straight to my room, hoping that I could have some peace and quiet but just as I was about to sigh "aaaaah finally!!" the loudest mosquito I ever heard came buzzing around. Oh boy!! One can not even sit still because the mosquitoes will have a field day, probably getting drunk on my blood.
I have been around town a little bit but it looks like some habits crept in on me while in Philly and shaking them off takes a conscious effort. I learned over time to mind my own business, walking through the streets of Philly. There was hardly a chance to stop and greet any one, or smile and acknowledge other people, no body seemed to have time for that. So I learned to have a straight face.
I get back home and man! Even in the taxi- this lady sits next to me and says “hello”. I first looked to see if I knew her but clearly I didn’t, so there was a pause there before I responded.
Life in Kampala goes on hold if things are not preceded with a greeting. I was trying to get a motorcycle ride (boda) the other day but the guy would not barge before we exchanged a greeting. Now in Philly, the few times I tried to greet people it just seemed like I was wasting their time. “Good Morning?”, “good afternoon?” “good …?” - who cares?, just get right to the point and tell me what you want.
Meanwhile another interesting experience - I walked into a café to check mail but either the lady just didn’t like me or something. I stood in front of her for close to a minute before she acknowledged my presence. Then with what seemed like a great effort she told me what it cost and with a heavy hand pointed to the computer that was available. Boy! Had I forgotten our people or what? Any way life goes on.
Checking mail in an internet café is tougher than getting a tooth removed, either it takes for ever to open the pages or the mouse is acting up or something.
I have decided to sneak into the worldbank once in a while to do what I have to do.
We took the bus to Soroti to visit my parents. I thought I would take photos and journal just as I had done in Philly. That was absolutely silly of me, how could I forget that Ugandans are not too thrilled with cameras?! so I nearly got roughed up, seriously.
I was supposed to have greeted the men, told them I was going to take a picture of the bus for leisure or whatever and then allow them to pose for the photo or get out of the way.
It was nice to see mom and dad again; they haven’t changed much which I guess is a good thing. Mich woke up early each morning to go to the farm with grandpa and then spent the rest of his day chasing or being chased by a rooster. By the way I’m not kidding; there was a real strange rooster that was in the habit of chasing small people. It would watch you pass then come running after you with its feathers spread out, now that can be scary more so if you are closer to the ground. Mich had to be saved twice for the crazy rooster and he ended up walking around with a stick for his own protection. He asked grandpa why he had such a nasty chicken and to cut the long story short we had some awesome chicken stew the night before we traveled back to Kampala.
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