Mrs.O's writing room.

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

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 everythin

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 righ

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

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.

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, w

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.

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 occ

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, lis

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 fea

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 t

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

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

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

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 o

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 t

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 th

Last sunday Sam and I took Becca to Ndere Center just to give her a taste of the Ugandan culture in dance.

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 s

"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

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