The Beautiful Chaos Of Happy Feet

I love it when I walk through the door and a little stray shoe lies in the corner.
When I can't fit my toes into my slipper because someones tiny ball rolled into the dark space to play it's own hide and seek. It bounces into the living room.

I love it when the dinning table is strewn with little toys, sometimes bent forward and other times backwards in a hap-hazard fashion.
It's the little art pieces piling on the table, the pink crayon laying forsaken on the kitchen floor. It's beautiful chaos.

I love this beautiful chaos, bursting with life. Little heart beats pump blood through little bodies. Learning, searching and exploring this vast universe without a care - sweet abandon.

Thank you Lord, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Winter Spring

Clock of leaves

Winter-Spring

Moon trapped in branches

Bird sun bathing

The Peeping Petticoat

Petticoats! Remember them?
If you landed on this planet after the 90's you'll probably wonder what I refer to and no! it is not some fancy coat worn on top of a boob tube.

Petticoats or half-slips are little nylon skirts worn as undergarments. Sound like the dark ages? Yeah, like who would wear extra clothes in the African heat? Probably explains why they were made of nylon and light cotton material.
It was an essential item on every school girls shopping list next to Always and Vaseline.
These skirts were everywhere; in suitcases, hanging up on a bathroom peg, sometimes they showed up on the clothes line outside; black and white - the two most preferred colors.
We giggled when girls in primary six and seven begun to wear them - they were mature, things we studied in biology were taking place in their bodies.

 Woe unto you if the elastic around the waist came loose or the lace on the hem came undone. It wasn't any of our business but when those little skirts peeped below the hem, we were alerted to their presence. It was a shabby sight  to behold but all too common. The half-slips slipped.

Street hawkers strung them on their shoulders with safety pins and what not. The taxi park was strewn with them, one was never short of a place to make a purchase. Then they begun to show up in shades of blue, cream, brown and pink. That made for a really sore sight peeking out from under a white or even black dress. The eye was automatically gripped by it's presence and ladies where constantly pulling them up.

I received my first petticoat in senior one, no longer a little girl but a young woman. The carefree days of see-through dresses were over. Black petticoats were the best, they could be worn under any color dress, however it was important to find the perfect length - the ideal ones fell just shy of the knees.
The one problem with black was, one tended to forget it needed to be washed. The waters turned a certain hue of brown as soon as it was dipped into a basin of water and it wasn't dye because nylon material usually doesn't run. In some cases it only got washed twice in a term.

Bazungu ladies were notorious for disdaining these little skirts. They came to sunny Kampala and struggled to keep their clothes on much less a petticoat. They walked through the streets leaving nothing to the imagination. A Muzungu in a white see-through dress with white underwear - not an organized sight. The street idlers whistled at them, baptizing them all sorts of names. Some were quick to learn and share the lessons with their friends but others didn't quite get in. We concluded Kampala was just too hot for them.

Slowly the little skirts disappeared, women hardly wore dresses, they pledged new allegiance to trousers. Those who remained on the straight and narrow wore clothes with sewed lining. It made life a lot easier except when the lining detached from the fabric and begun playing the peeping game too.

Sunshine

Temperatures were in the 60's today.

We thawed and busked directly under the sun's rays.

Play grounds bustled with laughter and giggles of children previously deprived of their favorite activity.

Thank you Lord for the sunshine.

 

 But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its rays. And you will go out and frolic like well-fed calves. Malachi 4:2

Man's wisdom and God's foolishness

This morning I finally understood 1 Corinthians 1:25 "For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength".

As I sat in the auditorium I pondered how God placed a simple person like me among the brightest, most intelligent people in the world.  They moved swiftly. Suits and ties flying as they paced with purpose, making haste for an all important session.

Having just returned from the dentist's office (a story for another day) and hungry as could be, I joined the pre-meeting lunch. Obviously not for matooke, rice and chicken but muzungu style nuggets: leaves, bread, cookies, water, soda ... you get the drift (and people wonder why we lose weight in "outside countries") kiri bubi bambi! But you get with the program and eat with more passion than the owners, even looking for more salad dressing.
So I was picking my leaves when this guy, his orientation clearly spelt out by his hairstyle raised his huge gadget of a camera. It was the kind that threatens, not only in it's size but I imagined it would capture every pore and every hair strand. I would have a difficult time convincing any one that it wasn't me. Since I was making an effort to stay below the radar, I darted away as fast as my dainty feet could carry me.
Why was I at this session anyway? One - curiosity, two -  I knew Uganda would be topic for discussion since Museveni recently signed a most controversial bill.
I took an inconspicuous seat.
Among the 400 attendants about 50 were African, clearly not their favorite topic huh?!

The first speaker's opening remark was "Discrimination is bad for people and societies... it carries a cost for development". She said Uganda could lose $6 Billion, for each project which could be implemented what with the AIDS epidemic and sexual minorities. She said wrecking the lives of sexual minorities in place of cultural views is not good for society. She presented links between homophobia and economic development and I couldn't help thinking how she would enthusiastically sell sand to an Arab in the desert without blinking.

I was still rolling that over in my mind when I looked out the door and saw a man leisurely stroll out of the women's restroom. My heart bounced. So with all these arguments for human rights, we also have to make room to bump into men in the privacy of the restroom because well, you see, they are not exactly "men".
Life just gets harder ainit?!

Back to the presenter. She explained how this discrimination affected individual outcomes; the victims lived shorter lives and were less educated. Really? This was a real case of T.G.E because I didn't see the link especially in Uganda's case. No body is banned from school. Didn't we have stories of lesbians in our high schools? How many were expelled because of such rumors? Were students sent home and denied study? I thought that was a little far fetched.
Apparently gay men earn less than their heterosexual counter parts - another story if you asked me. The correlation between your "lifestyle" and how you perform in office is a bit strange, not that bosses are really interested in what you do behind closed doors. Alright, I know some are but you get what I mean.

The second presenter from google shared a presentation analyzing the "sites" that people visit. Apparently there are huge audiences.

After some time, I thought the pending work at my desk required immediate attention so I left.

1 Corinthians 1:25 really did hit home today.

Pictures of The Day

Sun rise on the train tracks

Evening moon

A dash of moon in the evening blue sky

Night sky

Another Snow Day

Looked like a painting

Reminded me of tie and dye :-)

Loved the bright spot of moon in a dark blue sky

Between A Rock and A Very Hard Place

Ah! Life can be complicated and other times it can be knotty. Last week life was knotty and complicated. Conversations were minefields, I had to put up my sensors to navigate away from explosions.

So, President Museveni signed the anti-gay bill criminalizing homosexuality in Uganda.Then President Obama wrote him a letter saying the legislation complicates a valued relationship. The statement went on to say, "Now that this law has been enacted, we are beginning an internal review of our relationship with the government of Uganda to ensure that all dimensions of our engagement, including assistance programmes, uphold our anti-discrimination policies and principles, and reflect our values".
A day later, Jim Kim, the President of the organisation I work for wrote a statement addressed to all staff condemning countries and people who discriminate against homosexuals.The barrel of the gun was pointed straight at me; my country of birth had taken a stand, my country of residence had taken the opposite stand, my boss has taken the same stand.

I thought I would muse quietly, cheer for my kin but keep a straight face when suddenly in the team meeting all the eyes turned in my direction "Mary, what do you think?" The only black girl on the team, the only African on the team, the only Christian on the team - the Ugandan. I held my breath. I wanted to hide. I wanted to wish the situation away but no, all 6 eyes were channeled in my direction. I was tempted to use my faith microphone but it is not encouraged in this organization. People come from all cultures of the world and passion about "your thing" can be construed as damning to others, so don't play the faith card. The struggle begun, how do I keep my cool, shut up about my faith and ride the "culture and this-is-an-absolutely-abominable-act-among-my-people" card. So I played the kisanja card and they quickly nod. A big sigh on my part.
But there is that one person who seeks you out, who will not stop at anything to know your thoughts. The one with whom you tell it like it is and that is the guy who sits across from me.He is so passionate about this topic. He gets all animated you would think he was defending his thesis. His current project is to make me a convert.

So here I am in a foreign country, caught between being graceful to my host and declaring support for my people. I don't doubt my stand on the issue but sometimes the big words about discrimination and human rights cause me to leave the crowd. I look into the mirror and ask myself; Where do you stand? What do you believe? I come out of seclusion with one conclusion;- I live by a different set of rules, a different moral compass and it is found in the Living Word of God.
God loves me, warts and all but He will not leave me that way. He doesn't condemn me but tells me to go and sin no more and as far as I know it's a daily process, a process of daily surrender. Perhaps with that view in mind we would all regard ourselves as sinners in need of a Savior.

Now let me go and celebrate "12 Years a Slave" the most heart wrenching Slave account I have ever read. If only Solomon Northup knew how big his story would get. I'm sure glad he told it.