pictures!!

Ok, it takes long to try to figure out posting pictures as well as captioning so I hope these speak for themselves. Love to all!

Cathi

Uganda #4: Untitled!!

Wow! I can’t believe it’s been about a month since I’ve written. Geez, I am sorry about that, folks. I know you’ve all been waiting on pins and needles to hear about my life; I deeply apologize. I really should be in the habit of writing every 2 weeks or so, because otherwise I know I’ll be leaving so much out (no promises)! Although I think even if I wrote things down every single day, I would still leave things out. You’d never get the full picture. For that you’d have to come here, COME AND SEE, and experience a completely different and beautiful world.

It’s hard now having people say things to me like, “I really admire what you’re doing” or “It must be so difficult living in a place like that” or “are you just counting down the days until you go home?”

I don’t feel like I’m doing that much. I’m certainly not doing anything life-changing or epic; not when you just look at the facts, the actions. I go to an orphanage for a few hours a day and help teach some kids. As far as making charts or graphs or writing an essay about “all that I’m accomplishing here,” that wouldn’t happen. And I didn’t come here to write a report about what I did here or fulfill some checklist of requirements for being in a foreign country. I knew before I came here that a HUGE reason I wanted to stay for a longer period of time was to build relationships. It’s difficult to build a meaningful relationship with anyone in a weekend, 2 weeks or even 2 months of being somewhere. I’m coming up on being here for 2 months and I’m just starting to really get to know people on a deeper level, to spend time with them consistently and be able to have something of value to pour into their lives (and let them pour into mine). I would certainly say the MAIN thing I am doing here is building relationships, and since that’s a major reason I came here for a longer time, I am very very satisfied with that.

As an American citizen with a Western mindset, it is sometimes difficult to look at the last week and think; there is nothing concrete that I did. There is nothing I can give a number to or put a figure on or show you tangible progress on. But in the last week, I spent time with people. I hung out with the older girls at the orphanage as they were washing clothes (a long and tedious task, especially when there are 30 people’s clothes to wash) and had them quiz me on my language skills (I’m slowly learning Jap, the local language here). In the last week, I sat and watched an entire – yes, entire – football club game with Fred, my sister, and her fiancée (that’s football the way the rest of the world knows it – most likely soccer for you). I’ve sat for hours in the morning on days off talking to Bishop (my host dad) about anything from church planting to how he raises his children. I’ve gone to a remote home in the nearby village and sat for hours in a grass thatched hut having an Easter meal (more on that later).

The things I’m doing here are not going to alter the course of history. I’m probably not going to write a best-selling novel about it or have speaking engagements because of it. What I am doing is building relationships, and so much is accomplished through relationships. Not only do I enjoy relationships in and of themselves, but I will never know the full extent of what God does through them. If all that happens in my time here is that I build one good relationship through which God works, then I will consider that a success. No big figures, no fancy statistics. Just people loving people.

Leaving is something I can’t think about very often, because it makes me incredibly sad. I miss people back home; I miss certain things about my life in Phoenix – but here is just a totally different story. None of the “inconveniences” or “archaic” ways of doing things here seem to matter anymore in the context of the larger picture. You adapt, you move on. The longer I’m here, the more I feel like I fit into the culture and see that the way Ugandans do life is so much more conducive to my own way of doing life. Sometimes it feels like this place is like the missing puzzle piece in my life; that coming here, something that is beautiful and mysterious and beyond my understanding has been completed. The more I experience the way people function here and how their lives pulse, the more I find myself at ease with those things, and actually see that it makes a lot more sense to live that way.

Let me try to give you an example. People here rarely interrupt conversations. If two people are talking, a third would hardly ever join in; he would simply listen or even go off and do something else he needs to do. And people here are used to having long, drawn-out and meaningful conversations. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat on the back patio of our house with one of my family members in the time between afternoon and supper time, just talking about anything and everything, and watching the clouds roll and stretch over the sky, as dusk settles into night in a sky littered with stars. If you know me, you know I love conversations. Especially long, uninterrupted ones. I’ve gotten so much of that here, I can’t even handle it! :) The way of life here is so much slower, so less frantic, so much more deliberate about truly connecting with people and being invested in their lives. In fact, I find it difficult to imagine ever having to preach a sermon here about “getting to know your neighbor” or “connecting with those around you”. It’s just a part of life here; it’s what you do if you’ve been brought up here. I have had such moments of tranquility and joy here. I lost track of how many a long time ago. After I’ve had a good laugh, as I’m perched on the front steps breathing in the scent of the pouring rain, as I’m sitting around the supper table totally at ease with my Ugandan family – I think, why would I ever leave this place?

Maybe I’m still in my honeymoon phase. Maybe everything still seems wonderful and I’m looking at everything through rose-colored glasses. Maybe in a month or in six, I will realize I can’t wait to go back to the US. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But somehow I just don’t think so. If you’re a praying man (It’s A Wonderful Life reference, PLEASE, folks!) please keep this in prayer on my behalf, I would be so grateful. Ultimately I want whatever God wants. Whether that’s going back to the US in December, or staying here for another year, or moving here and starting my family here – heck, I don’t know what it’s going to entail. But the possibility of staying here on a more permanent basis is definitely something I’ve been thinking about and praying about and pondering and something that is constantly on my mind.

Now, onto some fun, lighter things :) Two weekends ago I was able to travel deep into the village for a wedding with bishop, his wife, my brother Stephen, and Stephen’s mom, Night. Bishop was set to officiate the wedding and he’d asked me about a month before if I wanted to come with them. We hired out a vehicle to do this since there were 5 of us coming plus several other friends of the family. So we all piled into a van when the driver finally showed up about 2 hours late (yes, welcome to Africa). We were going deep into the village. I don’t know if I’ve described this at all yet, but I’m thinking not, so here goes. I live in Tororo town. Technically I live about a mile and a half from the center of town, but this surrounding area is considered Tororo. When people here refer to “the village”, they are meaning someone who lives far beyond the town, at least 10 miles or so out of it. To get to the main congregation of villages, you take the main road about 5 miles out of town, and then turn off onto another road, which is the main road to the smaller villages. This “main road” however is chock-full of potholes and strange curves and of course it is a dirt road. Let me just say it’s gotta be up there with the 3 worst roads I’ve ever been privileged to drive on (dad, remember the road up to those termas where I bought the old mapuche’s wooden spoons??). And the driver we were with was just racing down this road, making every pothole extremely uncomfortable to go over, and only stopping occasionally to go slower if the road was REALLY impassable. It was about an hour of this.

But once I forced myself to think about something other than the ghastly road conditions, I really appreciated the beautiful scenery. The road to the village takes you past a WHOLE lot of trees, fields, super green gardens, and little settlements, small clusters of communities. By the time we got to the wedding, we were at least an hour late (I’m not sure at exactly what time it was supposed to start). And of course Bishop was the one officiating the wedding, but of course this is also Africa and so things like this are expected and common. The ceremony went fairly according to what you’d think of a typical wedding ceremony. There was singing with a choir and then Bishop gave a message about the importance of marriage and the roles of husbands and wives, and they exchanged their vows. Pretty standard, really. The only real difference I noted was that the bride and groom never did more than hold hands; there was no hugging and definitely no “you may now kiss the bride”. That is very much a faux pas in Ugandan culture. You don’t hug or kiss in public, not even if you’re married. And not on your wedding day. I could really get into this, but basically it’s just a very traditional way of handling things. People in a relationship and/or marriage have this sense of, “let’s keep our affection private and not put it on display” and so you see everyone else holding hands (even men with men here, it’s all free game) EXCEPT people that would be doing it to show romantic affection. Ahh, the irony. And the other thing is that here, women are VERY liberal with exposing their breasts. Mothers nursing children, for sure, will do it anywhere, with no attempt to cover themselves in any way. And I’ve just seen it displayed in many other ways; women don’t think about it. And in talking to Fred one day I realized the opposite is true in Western culture. We go to great pains to cover our bodies, especially women with their breasts, but we make out on the sidewalk or in the movie theatre like there’s no tomorrow. Interesting what a culture does and does not find appropriate. So, then the ceremony was over and we headed to the reception, which took place at the groom’s family’s house about a mile or two away. There people sit under a tent (and the respected guests get chairs) and sit through some speeches, some traditional dances and different things, and then there is food at the end. I rather enjoyed the food there; it was matoke (mashed bananas), rice, chicken (well, only a few select people got chicken, and Bishop was one of them; he gave me his share), goat, and I believe cabbage. I can’t quite remember. Anyway, it was all very good and I had no stomach issues from it so, I was very happy with that :)

Yesterday was a really diverse adventure so I want to share that one with you. After church, 2 of my sisters (Night and Deborah), Deborah’s fiancée Robert, our Pastor, Patrick and I headed out. Our plan was twofold: Robert’s cousin had died a few days earlier and we were going to her burial. Then after that, we were headed to the village, to a place called Paduenda, where Betty, one of Bishop’s daughters, lives. Even getting to the burial we got lost several times because nobody knew where the place was! And it’s not like there are street signs or mile markers or anything like that. Eventually we found the place, but by the time we got there it was almost over. There had to have been at least 300 people there, and of course every eye was on me as I walked in, being the only white person around. While we were there I asked Night if the family of the deceased paid to feed the guests. Then she said no, actually everyone in the clan of the family (think of it like their neighbors) contributes money or food so that all the guests can be fed. What an amazing sense of community, and of loving each other, and of bearing one another’s burdens. I loved hearing that.

After the funeral we got back into the car (Pastor Patrick was driving) to head to Betty’s house in a different village. By this time some really heavy, dark clouds had rolled in and it suddenly started pouring. Here’s the scene: old, beat-up car; bad tires; leaks in the hood; intense rain; bad road; potholes; old windshield wipers. It made for a GREAT drive! Ahhh, I seriously thought we were going to crash or get injured in some way. I was the only one wearing a seatbelt; nobody here wears them. The windows of Bishop’s car don’t close all the way so there was water leaking in on me. There’s some sort of leak in the front of the car so a bunch of muddy rain water poured in where my feet were. I didn’t think we’d make it to the main road alive! At one point I said to everyone in the car, “This weather is pretty crazy. Shouldn’t we think about going home instead? Isn’t it too dangerous to drive in this weather?” Haha and nobody even said anything to me; definitely nobody agreed, and nobody even tried to reassure me. It was completely normal to them!! But thankfully Patrick is a good driver and is adept at avoiding as many potholes as possible. Eventually the rain let up and we took the small, windy road that led us to Betty’s house way out in the village.

I loved her house; it’s really more of a compound. The way it normally works in the village is that you and your family all live in the same area and build your houses near each other. If you’re a man, you tend to stay around your parents, siblings etc. If you’re a woman, you move to where the man’s family is. So Betty lives with 4 of her kids (the other 3 kids, who are older, live here with us) and her husband and her mother-in-law and a few other relatives in this village, Paduenda. The spot is, of course, absolutely beautiful and natural. They have a building for cooking (I cannot remember if it was made of mud or what it was, but it was sturdy) and several grass thatched huts for the family. We ate in the hut where Betty and her husband, Joseph, sleep. In the front part of it there is a space for a small table and we sat in chairs around that. They very kindly gave me the seat of honor, which basically means the most comfortable chair. I really liked the hut!! The roof is made so well that rain doesn’t get in, but because of the material it’s made out of and the fact that very little sun gets inside, the houses stay very cool. It was almost like being in air conditioning! I love man’s ingenuity, it’s out of control. So we were treated extremely well there and I loved exploring the compound; they had an incredible view from their field to some distant trees and the sunset that night was spectacular. I’ll try to post pictures one day. This was for Easter so they made us a really nice meal including 3 kinds of meat: pork, turkey and beef. It was all very good and of course extremely fresh (one of my favorite things about life here). I really enjoyed getting to visit and see Betty again, and it’s always funny to see people’s reactions to a white person in their village. :)

There are some people who have been very important to me here that I think I’ve barely mentioned in previous blogs. I apologize for this! And I could kick myself. I know there’s a lot going on here, but I should have talked about them before! Their names are Leon and Irene, and they are a couple from Amsterdam that have spent the last 3 months here (they got here a few weeks before I did). They came to help out at the computer center, which is what is supposed to help generate money for the orphanage. Leon works back in Amsterdam for Motorola and is a pretty important guy there, from what I can gather. Irene is a nurse. I really enjoyed getting to know them the last few months; they actually left a few days ago! :( I was really, really sad to see them go, and wished they had been able to stay longer. They saved up money for a long time and took basically all of their holiday time to be able to come and volunteer down here, which is amazing. They had some difficult times and challenges being down here but, they really rose to the occasion and did some great things here. They gave money for a chicken house to be built at the orphanage, which is almost finished, and then they will also be buying chickens, 20 or so, for the orphanage to start raising and hopefully selling. This should be something that also generates money for them; it might not be much, but it’s something that can help them grow to be self-sustaining and something the kids can help with as well, which is a good side benefit.

I had to say goodbye to Leon and Irene a few days ago, which was hard, and very sad. Again, I really like them and it was wonderful getting to know them. I pray we meet again. And their leaving got me to thinking about a lot of things. First, I can’t believe how fast the last few months went, and how they’re already gone. That was pretty sobering. On Saturday we all went to the orphanage so that the kids could say goodbye to Leon and Irene. They sang some songs (I took videos; I hope to get those up on facebook eventually) and the kids were given sodas (a rare treat) and balloons and we all hung out for a while. I’m not sure how many of the kids understood Leon and Irene weren’t coming back, but I sat there thinking, I cannot envision this being me in December. I cannot imagine or fathom the day when it’s me they’re saying goodbye to, when it’s me they’re singing songs of farewell to and me they’re asking when will I return to Uganda.

Do I have to let that day come?

Does it have to be December 2010 that I leave this place, maybe forever?

I don’t see why it has to be. I mean, I could get really into this but, suffice it to say there is no law that dictates when I have to leave, when I have to go “home”. Now it feels strange calling Phoenix or the US my home, because this is my home now, and Phoenix is where I lived before I lived in Tororo. For some reason, of which only God truly knows, I do not have anything tying me down or pulling me back to the US; nothing concrete, nothing that can’t wait a year or ten. (Though I don’t want to minimize the amazing group of people and support I have there; you’re all very important to me.) Could I still come back at the end of this year? Yes. Could I come back earlier than that for some as yet unknown reason? Yes. Could I stay here longer? I think the answer to that is also yes.

It was for freedom that Christ has set us free. Freedom to sing, freedom to worship Him, and freedom to follow Him, wherever He leads us and for however long He leads us there, right? I have said this before, but my time here feels a lot different from my time in Namibia in 2008. So many aspects of that trip were so different than this one is. It feels strange to call this time here a trip. For me, a trip implies a set amount of time; something impermanent; something you enjoy a bit selfishly and then leave to get back to “real life”.

….But this IS real life. Nothing about being here feels temporary or something I’m just “dealing with” until I can get back to what’s ”normal”. It feels like, my life used to be this other way, with other realities and other obligations, but now THIS is my life, for as long as God has me here. And if you’re wondering, I’m not expecting a flash of lightning, or some neon vision from the Lord telling me in a booming voice when I’m supposed to leave this place. God works in so many different ways. He spoke to Elijah in a sound as soft and subtle as a whisper. He spoke to Moses in a consuming, blatant fire. He’s unpredictable, and He can do whatever He wants, really. I believe He gives us choices, too. He tells us to delight in Him and He will give us what our heart desires. Do with that what you will.

Okay, I’m sure I’ve talked about that subject enough for some of you to be sufficiently nervous now :) Sorry about that. To those upset at the idea of me being gone longer, I have to say: talk to God about it, not me. I love you all!

I think I will wrap this up with a few tidbits and prayer requests and leave it there.

Tidbits of note:

-Floss: We Americans are pretty used to it. If we don’t use it on a consistent basis, we at least know what it is, and how it’s used. I was noticing my brother Caleb using a toothpick one day and I thought I would show him floss. Well, the kind I have here is the minty kind so it leaves your teeth feeling all fresh. I was trying to explain to Caleb how to use it, but he just kept chewing on it because it tasted so good! Lol I eventually gave everyone in the family a bit to try. A few of them got the hang of actually flossing; mostly they just liked the taste! We were all in a laughing fit by the end of it; it was quite an event.

-Last week I was able to have a good talk with Anthony, who came into town for the day. I asked Fred to talk with us as well since he has been someone kept in the loop on everything that’s going on with me and with the orphanage. He’s eloquent and helped me get across some things that would have been more difficult for me to say. (And can we say CULTURAL DIFFERENCES? GoodNIGHT I have a lot to learn!!) Anthony has a great vision for the organization; all that’s really needed now is some more donations (well, significant ones) and hard work and patience and dedication. It is a different story being a part of something in its relative beginning stages instead of being there when it’s well-established. But I trust God to do great things with us, knowing we can do nothing by ourselves.

-One of the main steps that we would all like to see accomplished is to buy a big piece of land for the orphanage. On it we would build a house for the children, and definitely have a garden; something that the kids can help with and that can generate money; again, the self-sustaining aspect. That way they can be much more well-established and not having to constantly depend on outside donations. Plus, anytime you can give the kids something to contribute to and work on it’s good; that way they are feeling like they’re part of the process and not just sitting there, begging and holding out their hand, waiting for free stuff. Donations may feed them, donations may house them, but they don’t build their character much or give them useful skills for their future.

-Someone here I’ve really come to enjoy is a man named Paul. He’s a good friend of Fred’s who lives in Kampala, but comes to visit when he can. He’s about 28 and has worked with an NGO similar to the orphanage, but on a larger scale. He’s spent years working with street children, helping to educate them and give them a better chance at a future. He’s very wise, and very easy to talk to, and we always have a good time when we chat. He came this weekend and I was able to talk to him about some ideas he has. By the end of this year he’s planning on moving back here to Tororo. What he really wants to do is invest in people in Tororo, especially children. He wants to eventually develop an organization that helps children pay for school fees, or pays for them to take a course in something practical (like driving or building houses) so that they can eventually support themselves (do you see a pattern here?), things like that. He has a big heart for kids and for those suffering who cannot help themselves. Let’s just say we have thrown around the idea of me helping him out if I stay longer than this year. There is so much opportunity here! You can look at places like this and see all the despair and hopelessness that there is, or you can look at them and see all the chances there are for you to be a light, to be used, to love and serve others.

-The weather here continues to give me amazing days and moments. Yesterday I was walking home at dusk (my favorite time of the day) and the sky was starting to darken. The wind picked up, and it sprinkled on me as I walked the path home. Lightning started up and I watched it light up the clouds overhead. If you know me well or if you love this kind of weather too, you’ll understand. I had such euphoria mixed with peace at the beauty of the weather it actually brought me to tears. I will never get used to the fact that the Creator of the universe allows me to experience things seemingly so simple, so ordinary, but so fused with His power and creativity and uniqueness.

-On a more selfish note, I wanted to shout out to people who have called me on my cell phone since I’ve been here (like my prayer team, my brother and my dear friend RheaAnne). It’s always wonderful to get calls, especially when they’re a surprise! I realize the time difference is difficult, 10 hours for a lot of you, but if you can ever give me a ring, even if it’s for 10 minutes, I would love to hear from you. Yes, you. :) It’s 15 cents a minute from Skype, which I know is not free but it’s decent. And anyone that wants to Skype with me (as in, we’re both on the computer and yes, it’s free for you), you just need to email me and we can figure out a time to do it. Thanks to those of you who are keeping in touch with me whether by facebook comments, emails or what have you. I miss you all, hope you had a blessed Easter, and I will sign off for now.


Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to Me. Get away with Me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with Me and work with Me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with Me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.
Matt 11:28-30 (MSG)

In His extravagant grace,
Cathi

random pictures

I don't have time to figure out the craziness of posting pictures on here but, here is a run down of what you're about to see....

1) my host parents, Geoffrey and Margaret
2) some of my host bro's... Stephen, Richard, and Job
3) sunset from the front yard of our house
4) me and Regina, host sister who's been a huge help to me, and a great friend
5) waiting out a downpour under the cover of a restaurant

ok, I better scoot! and scroll down to read my latest blog, if you're just seeing these pictures now! :)

Uganda #3: Hospitals, Lizards, & the Love of Jesus

Greetings dearest ones!

Some aspects about my life as of late that may be of interest to you:

-regular nightly checks of my room (mostly bathroom) for cockroaches (and not much shock when I discover them there; other than mosquitoes and small insects the other one I found was a lizard – don’t worry, says my family, they won’t hurt you!)

-going all day, sometimes all week, being the only white person I come across (some small kids’ reactions are the best, as they stop what they’re doing, get wide-eyed, and squeak, ‘mzungu!’)

-getting asked at least 5 times a day why I’m not serving myself more food; aren’t I hungry? Don’t I like the meal? What’s wrong with me? :)

-trekking 2 miles to town with my laptop so I can be guaranteed Internet and Skype dates with people

-being reminded on a daily basis how BLESSED I’ve been my entire life; how I’ve taken things for GRANTED; how RICH I truly am, and how much LONGER I have to go to be able to exhibit even a fraction of the love and compassion Jesus shows everyone

-wishing for a hot or even a lukewarm shower, then remembering 8 out of 10 people in surrounding houses are bathing with cold water out of a basin

-being humbled daily, HOURLY, at the graciousness, hospitality and selflessness of the people I encounter here


For anyone who just started reading this, the above list is more or less a crude summary of highlights. I hope and pray you’re reading more than that; even what I write barely touches on all I’m experiencing, all God’s doing. Thanks to those of you who’ve personally told me you’re following the blog; it means more to me than I can express.

This present age has continued much as the last… (Watkins: warning. I may have butchered that line. Alas, I digress.) Things are progressing here slowly at times, much too fast at others! I see such incredible beauty here in the same hour as I witness some horrific or devastating sight; sometimes it’s overwhelming. I know for sure if God was not my comfort, my backbone, and my guide, I would not be here writing you now; I’d be on a plane back home. Don’t get me wrong; there have been wonderful and exciting and peaceful and joyous moments. And not just moments, but whole days. But life here, especially compared to the lavish luxury most of us are used to, is physically and emotionally difficult in many different ways. I live in a very nice house by Ugandan standards, and our family has so much more than most. I know I’ll always eat 3 meals a day here. I practically get treated like royalty; sometimes I have to argue to help with the dishes, or clearing the table, or to go get my own water. Even in our family we struggle, though again, we have much more than a lot of people here. It gets hot; there’s no air conditioning. The family doesn’t even own a fan; I had bought one in Kampala before coming to Tororo, and I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated it every night!! My toilet sometimes flushes, sometimes the water decides not to work so that gets me hauling in a water can from outside, pouring it into the back of the toilet, in order for it to flush. Never have I been so aware of how much water one can use. The family uses either a fire outside to cook (think camping) or a charcoal stove, which is small and cooks very slowly (I bought them another charcoal stove – it was the equivalent of like $3 – I forget if I’d written that in another entry). Sometimes we eat dinner at 9:30 cause that’s just how long it took to cook. Welcome to Africa! :)

I suppose I need to tell you about the orphanage, since that is kind of what got me over here! So, this past week I actually was able to start helping to teach the youngest ones at OCA’s house here in town. Okay, I just reread what I wrote last time, and I didn’t really give a good picture of the orphanage. I will have to post some pictures when I get a chance; for now, words will have to suffice. (Suffice! That word is for you, Mr. Layshock!) The orphanage is located in a medium-sized, 3-room house almost in the center of town – I mean it’s about a 5 minute walk from the very center of it. It’s one story. One room is a storage room/Anthony’s room when he’s in town/Raphael’s children may sleep there/miscellaneous; one is for the boys; one is for the girls. I’ve never been there at night but, I can imagine it’s interesting trying to fit 24 children into 2 rooms. They sleep on these mats that my family has just told me are made of papyrus; they are pretty stinking hard, but I’m told most African children (even in wealthier familiar) sleep on these, or sleep on a mattress on the floor, so they aren’t the worst conditions. There is occasional running water in the house. What this means is that if there is water in their tank in the backyard, the toilet will flush, the sink will have water, etc. If there’s no water, they get it in buckets from a tap in the backyard. They have one toilet (for 25 people, remember) which is the kind you may be familiar with if you’ve spent any time in third world countries. It flushes, but it is actually built into the floor, so there’s nothing for it but to squat. I’ve used it several times, and I wish it were appropriate to take pictures cause believe me, it’s funny. The men running the orphanage are trying to raise money to build a pit latrine in the backyard, which as far as I can gather is more like an outhouse than anything else. Whatever the case, they need more toilet facilities there. I’ve seen kids peeing in the bushes and honestly, I’d probably do that too if I were in their situation.

The kids eat the exact same things every day: posho and cabbage. Posho is the kind of substance made by mixing maize flour with water and boiling it until it becomes the consistency of mashed potatoes, just a bit thicker. This is a staple food in Uganda and most people eat it at every meal. On a good day, the kids get beans. Otherwise it’s posho and cabbage every day. Can you imagine? Can you even imagine eating really GOOD things, but the same things, every day? Like having to eat, I don’t know, potatoes and chicken at every meal, indefinitely? I love chicken, I love potatoes… but every day? I suppose it’s normal to them, but I still wish I could give these kids meat, or French fries, or something of more taste and nutritional value. And the orphanage doesn’t even have enough money to be buying those basic things for these kids every day. Several times already since I’ve been here, Raphael (he and his family are kind of running the orphanage, along with a widow named Sarah) has told me that they were trying to scrounge up money for food because otherwise the kids weren’t going to eat.

Are you kidding?

I asked him a lot of specifics about what the kids eat and how much it costs. There are 24 kids living there. With only buying them posho flour and cabbage, it costs about 23,000 shillings per day to feed them all. That is about $12. $12 will feed 24 children for a day.

When is the last time you went out to eat? Where did you go? How much did you spend? Even if you went to McDonald’s and bought something off of the dollar menu, you just spent enough money to feed 2 kids at the orphanage for a whole day. THAT is poverty. THAT is real need. Our car breaking down because it needs a tune up or a new part - getting upset because we didn’t get a promotion at work – having a high electric bill – traffic taking too long and frustrating us – when’s the last time you got upset by something like that? Did you feel sorry for yourself? Most of us need a serious reality check, myself included. Which is one of the reasons, even though I have days that are incredibly challenging and gut-wrenching and I feel a bit of suffering, it is nothing compared to what these kids deal with daily. Or what 80% of the world deals with.

This blog may make some of you feel uncomfortable. Why is Cathi being so harsh? Can’t she let up a bit? Why the guilt trip? Let me say, if you were here, you would probably be telling people the same thing. Let me say, if you want to hear about what is going on here in Uganda, these are the kinds of things you’re going to have to expect to hear. It’s your choice; you can continue if you want, or you can “lose my web address” or “forget to read it” from now on if you choose to. I’m going to be honest on here, and I know most of you will appreciate that. I pray God reaches you with what I’m saying. I pray you’re not the same after logging off of your computer.

I would ask you to consider helping out by donating money to the orphanage. On the right side of my page is a PayPal ‘donate’ button. Click on it and it will lead you to a page where you can fill out credit card information, and it links to my bank account, which thankfully I can access from right here in town. If you donate, I will assume it’s a general donation for my mission trip, which I may use for anything from paying my host family to buying phone minutes to fixing showers, and anything in between. I’ve also been using some money to help out the orphanage, but I want to be able to help more. I do have about $1,000 more to reach my original goal for the trip. But if, when you donate, you want it used specifically for the kids at the orphanage, can you just email me and let me know? That way I can channel it to buy them more food, supplies, etc. The more you designate for me to use, the more I can help them. However, this is NOT tax-deductible. Conversely, you will know for sure it’s being given straight to the kids, so that’s a plus. Know your money can go SO far here. Remember, $12 a day will feed every child. If you can give ten bucks, you’ve helped feed most of them. Please pray about giving on a regular basis; it is definitely a worthy cause. I wish more of you could come and see.

That’s the thing about places like this. As much as I try to describe it to you, show you pictures, even videos, there is only so much that can be passed on. To really see what it’s like, you’ve got to come. Maybe not Uganda; maybe you’ll go to Calcutta like my friends the Smith family (names changed to protect the living-in-an-oppressive-country) and serve ex-prostitutes. Maybe you’ll spend some time in Mexico like my friend Saul and cook food for missionaries. Maybe you’ll go to Haiti like my friend Katie (no name change!) and hold babies in a cramped and impoverished orphanage. People are out there every day, all over the world, serving the poor, the afflicted, the suffering. You can give money, you can sponsor children, but until you see death and disease and desperation for yourself, you can never truly know what it’s like. Quit talking about it, and do something about it. I’m not talking about a weekend trip building houses where you come home and feel super about what you did. I’m saying commit to something, maybe it’s even in your city. I bet if you drove twenty minutes from your home you could find homeless, starving, neglected people that could benefit from some compassion.

The Okello’s second eldest daughter, Betty, is pregnant with her seventh child. It is extremely common here for people to have 4, 5, 6 kids, even more. Betty is now 10 months pregnant – yes, 10 – and is having, not surprisingly, complications. Her other children have come even before 9 months, so this one is concerning everybody. Betty’s been in the hospital for the past four days (by the time I post this blog it will probably be 6 or 7 days) feeling labor pains, having trouble doing even something as simple as laying down, and needing desperately for this child to be born. So now I’ve become acquainted with the main hospital, which is about a twenty minute walk from our house, and is the only government-run hospital in town. You’d think that it would be big and fancy and clean, but none of those describe this place. I soon learned ‘government’ was code for ‘cheaper service and shady conditions’. If you can afford it, you go to a clinic, where the facilities are cleaner but much more expensive. The hospital is dirty. Today I went to go use the bathroom in the main lobby – I almost vomited. Feces all over the floor, urine everywhere, foul-smelling – I was wearing flip flops and was wishing I had army boots on. I couldn’t believe this was the state of the BATHROOM at a HOSPITAL. Poverty plus neglect minus time, that is the recipe for conditions like this. Can you imagine what would happen if a hospital in the US were to look even a fraction like this?? Lawsuits anyone??!

At all hospitals in Uganda (and I’m sure this is true for other parts of the continent) there is no food given to patients. There are no cafeterias. Nobody makes food. You know how patients survive? Their family and friends have to bring them food. There isn’t even an option to pay more and have the hospital staff bring you food. People from the outside have to bring it to you. Morning, noon, and night. People don’t bring it, the patient doesn’t eat. Sometimes other patients and their families are kind enough to share with others, but basically your family has to be responsible for providing food for you and anything else you might need that is not medical. What a change, right? I couldn’t believe when I heard that today. So much needs to be changed here. There is so much need, so much need. Please pray for Betty’s pain to subside and for her baby to be born. [Amendment: I started writing this blog yesterday. Last night, the whole family got together before going to bed and prayed for Betty’s baby to be born. And this morning, she was!!! God is SO FAITHFUL!!!!! Power of prayer RIGHT THERE my friends.]

I believe I got on a tangent, but I wanted to elaborate on teaching at the orphanage. So in my last post I explained I’d be helping teach the youngest children, called Nazarene (like pre-school or kindergarten) age. School finally started for them this past Wednesday. Raphael found a woman from town called Harriet who volunteered to help. When I met her, I found out her English is pretty good, although we still have some issues understanding each other. We’ve been doing school from about half past eight in the morning until midday. Well, let me rephrase. I don’t know what time Harriet gets there, but every time I get there (usually more like 9 o’clock) she’s already into the teaching. I think she just wants to start early because that’s what she’s used to (she has taught at schools in Uganda previously)?? I have a feeling no matter how early I get there, she will already be there, having started. Cultural differenceeeeees, welcome. The first day I was trying to explain to her that I wanted the children to play a certain game to name different colors. So obviously I explained it to her in English and I expected her to translate it into Jap, which is the main native language here in Tororo. But instead, Harriet just said the same thing to the kids, but in ENGLISH!!!! Ahhhh. Imagine my frustration slash confusion! Lol I didn’t know what to do. This continued for the rest of the morning; if I tried to ask her to translate something, she would just say it in English still. GRANTED, her English is the accent that the kids are going to understand much better, so that’s something, but still! Harriet really took over teaching; I just have been sitting a lot of the time; helping out when the class does an exercise; I’ve read them a few books, etc.

I went into this thinking I would have to do all the teaching, planning, etc and I would just have Harriet translate. I know we’ve just begun, so many things could change, but for now it looks like Harriet is doing most of the teaching and I am there as more of a helper. Which is fine by me (Beasley and Boling: uhh… uhhh…. Uhhhh… FINE BY ME!!!!!), I just want to help in whatever ways I can… and this is definitely humbling me. On Friday Harriet left me alone for about the last hour of class because she had to run an errand. So it was my first time alone, trying to teach in a language the kids don’t know yet. However, it went better than I would’ve expected. I spoke slowly and made a lot of gestures and pointed to things and eventually they got what I wanted them to do. We’re working on basic things like counting to 10, their alphabet, shapes, etc. I’m excited for what the kids are going to learn this year. I pray I’m not just helping teach them material, but showing them the love of Jesus every day. Pray I would have patience and kindness and compassion but also be disciplined and steadfast and persevering. I need it all!! :)

There are some verses that have really been in my head lately and I wanted to share a few of them with you, they’ve been really encouraging to me.
I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth. I sought the Lord, and He answered me, and delivered me from all my fears. O taste and see that the Lord is good; how blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him! / Psalm 34

Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him… The steps of a man are established by the Lord and He delights in every detail of their lives. When he falls, he will not be hurled headlong, because the Lord is the One who holds his hand… Wait for the Lord and keep His way, and He will exalt you to inherit the land. / Psalm 37

Although the Lord has given you adversity for food and suffering for drink, He, your Teacher will no longer hide Himself, but your eyes will behold your Teacher. Your ears will hear a word behind you, “This is the way, walk in it,” whenever you turn to the right or to the left. / Isaiah 30


I wanted to close with another random batch of facts, just more things I wanted to share but for sake of not making this an essay I will just bullet point :)

-Bishop (my host dad) refers to me every day as “my daughter!” and it’s always in a joyful, excited voice. When he wants to talk to me in the mornings while I’m still in bed, he stands outside my door and says, “Yes, my daughter!” Haha I love it.

- I continue to thoroughly enjoy my host family. They’re so much fun, such kind people, so hospitable, so friendly, and just good to be around. I feel so blessed. So blessed.

- For those of you who know me well, you know I love rain. LOVE IT. And that hasn’t changed since I’ve gotten here, though it rains a lot, and the rainy season’s starting soon, and it will rain even more then! The only real annoyance is that sometimes when it POURS, everything stops, and everyone finds somewhere to take shelter until it calms down. I didn’t expect that. A lot of people fear being out in the rain because it tends to give people fevers, may make their malaria act up, etc. So far I haven’t had any issues with it, just really enjoying it! It really helps to make the weather cooler, and it’s just beautiful. When we get rain coming in from Kenya (which is what normally happens), you can see it slowly spreading over the mountains; they get foggy and start to blur, and eventually the rain is on top of us. It’s incredible.

-Anyone who has spent time in eastern Africa knows they LOVE watching music videos. I mean LOVE IT. Everyone from the 5 year old to the 50 year old. Mostly they are videos made in Kenya, and they are usually praise/gospel music. Everyone’s dressed in traditional clothes of the area and a lot of it is either in Swahili/Kiswahili or Luganda. People usually know enough of the language to get the gist of what is being sung about. (In my house, 80% of the time we are either watching music videos or preachers from the US. Last night I experienced T.D. Jakes for the first time. Mitchell – word to your mother. I love black people.)

- Trusting in God is a big thing here. When something that may seem impossible is asked about, the person will frequently reply, “We will trust God for it.” I LOVE the faith that is displayed among these people.

- ‘Amen’ and ‘Praise the Lord’ are said HOURLY here, usually in the form of greetings. Most people upon meeting each other say either ‘Praise God’, ‘Praise the Lord’, or ‘Yesu Opaki’ which means Praise God in Jap, the local language. In church, ‘Amen’ and ‘Hallelujah’ are used exhaustively.

- Every Saturday morning all the young boys (and sometimes the older ones) of the family go to the family’s garden to help dig and plant and pick food, some of which the family uses to eat, some of which it sells to others to supplement income. MANY people here do this. In fact, most of the people who live in the surrounding villages use a garden as a main source of income. Usually by the time I roll out of bed on a Saturday at maybe 9 or 10, the boys are already back from several hours’ work at the garden. These people NEVER STOP WORKING.

- In Uganda there is a fruit simply called Jack fruit, not sure of the spelling but it is delightful. It kind of looks like an overgrown pineapple, it’s really an interesting-looking fruit. Anyway, there is a Jack fruit tree growing in the yard at the orphanage, and I have been given fruit from it several times. Let me repeat that. The people at the orphanage, who are barely getting enough food for themselves, continue to share food with me, who doesn’t need it. ARE YOU GETTING THIS?! Praise God for the hospitality and kindness that is found in the poorest of homes.


To anyone who still wanted it and didn’t have it, here is my phone number and address (see Matt Schenk, I have a real address! Not just a dirt road!)

Cell phone: +256 (0)785975575 [you may or may not need the 0, try it both ways. From Skype it costs 15 cents a minute to call this number.]

Address: Cathi Geisler care of Bishop Okello, P.O. Box 167, Tororo, Uganda


To close, I’d like to issue a challenge to every one of you still reading this. You’ve heard about what life is like here. You’ve heard stories of hard work, selflessness, compassion, and faith. My challenge to you is to try to live one day where you stop thinking about yourself. Stop doing things that only or mostly benefit you. Who can you help? Who can you encourage? Who can you serve? What kind thing can you say, in what way can you show someone else love for a day? For those of you who are Christians, this is not just a suggestion, but a command; to live in a way that is selfless and sacrificial and humble, forgetting about yourself and serving God by serving His people. For the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to SERVE, and to give His LIFE as a random for many. For people in Uganda, this is a way of life.


Won’t you follow their example?

more pictures!!!

my church here is also called LCC - Liberty Christian Center. God's flippin amazing.




host siblings, Regina and Fred. two of my new favorite people.





Eve, a neighbor's daughter. you'll be hearing much more about her. she needs sponsorship.




Me and Eve.

Uganda #2: Blessings Galore

Banana trees. Mosquito nets. New languages. Nothing but green for miles. Intense rain. No shower. 11 children. And this is only the beginning.

I’m not sure how to even begin describing the last week to you. Just know that anything I tell you is only a fraction of what I’m actually experiencing but could never fully explain. But let’s get right to it. Friday afternoon was spent in Kampala; Anthony and I took a “taxi” (14-seater van in which is piled as many people as humanly possible) and I experienced some of the craziest, daring driving of my life. It’s very difficult to describe Kampala in general. There are people EVERYWHERE doing a million things, dressed in a thousand ways – some women carrying water or sticks on their head, others dressed in jeans. Some wearing traditional African dresses, some wearing shorts and a t-shirt. The diversity is enormous. And it was Friday, the busiest day of the week, according to Anthony. We went to the bank so I could exchange some money. We ate at a local Ugandan restaurant where I got my first taste of local food, which is very good!! If you were at my fundraising dinner back in November, some of the food my mom made was pretty much what I ate that day. There was matoke (mashed plantains – surprisingly one of my least favorite things – they’re just kind of plain), a sauce with peas (the staple foods here, typically made of grains, millet, etc. are usually served with a sauce to give them more flavor), chicken stew, millet bread (which I cannot for the life of me think of the Ugandan name for – which was a bit crunchy and also not my favorite), and chapatti (these kind of tortillas made of wheat – and my personal favorite so far). I tried it all and for the most part was very satisfied! I drank a Coke as a throwback to my US homies.

We also bought a SIM card and phone minutes for me (Anthony sold me an extra Motorola phone he had for much cheaper than I would’ve had to pay for one normally) and then I decided I should look for a fan. At the guest house I was staying in Kampala, the fan stopped working in the middle of the night and I thought it might be a very good investment to buy one for my time in Tororo. (It turned out that the electricity at the guest house went out in the middle of the night so it wasn’t the fan that was broken, rather the power going out.) So I went and found a box fan, the kind that stands on its own or sits on the floor, for like $25. It would turn out to be a very excellent investment indeed :) While we were out that afternoon I also experienced my first Ugandan rain – delightful. I had seen it coming earlier due to those huge imposing Lion King clouds on their way in. It only rained for a bit but it felt wonderful – it was probably 85 and quite humid so it was a welcome change. I spent the rest of that day checking emails and catching up on things back at the computer center/Anthony’s office, got to the guest house around 9 and promptly fell asleep.

Saturday morning I got woken up by an INTENSE thunderstorm around 4am. It was so loud – not just the thunder but the massive amount of rain – I couldn’t fall back asleep again. Welcome to Africa!! That morning Anthony and I hired a car to drive us the 4 or so hours from Kampala to Tororo, where I’d be living. Hiring a car is expensive, but it’s more private compared to the 14-seater taxis, and we both had a lot of things to carry with us so it was good we hired a car. The trip was an adventure in itself; lots of potholes, bad roads, crazy traffic (especially getting out of Kampala; it’s an absolute nightmare). At one point we hit a blockade in the highway and had to take an alternate “route”, lol this consisted of a muddy back road that went through small villages and it was just a crazy, unpredictable drive. However, we survived so it’s a fun story to tell. I wish I could have videos and pictures of all these things; it’s just very hard to get across the adventure of it all.

We arrived in Tororo in the afternoon, around 4 o’clock, and Anthony took me to my host family right away. I had heard the father was a pastor and there were a lot of children; that was the extent of what I knew about the family. Well, a lot of children is right. I was greeted by probably 8 or so kids; after a while I just stopped counting! I was overwhelmed by it all; obviously you are a complete stranger, you are the only white person (mzungu) around, you are coming into an entirely new situation. Some of the children (they seemed older – probably closer to my age) helped carry my things in. I soon learned the parents were gone at a wedding and wouldn’t be back until the evening. The family had me sit down in one of their armchairs, the place of honor, and all greeted me in the traditional Ugandan way, which means everyone shakes your hand, and the women all kneel in front of you while shaking your hand. At first I didn’t understand what was happening and it definitely caught me off guard to have everyone kneeling in front of me, but once Anthony explained that was the traditional way of greeting it made a lot more sense.
After a few minutes, a few of the older children showed me my room and we ended up sitting and talking for a long time. The one I immediately connected with was Regina, the Okello’s oldest daughter who currently lives at home (they have 10 children, 5 of whom still live at home), who is 19. Her English is great and I was able to talk to her very easily. Caleb, their son who is 16, also sat in the room with us and mostly listened, but also talked a bit, especially whenever I would ask him anything. The other one I got to know the first day is Fred, who’s 24 and is actually the Okello’s nephew, but he’s lived with them since he was 14. One thing I learned very quickly is that the Okello’s (who I actually shouldn’t even call the Okello’s – they don’t have surnames/last names in Uganda; everyone has a given name and a Christian name [usually a Westernized one or a Biblical name] so they just go by those and not family names) are an incredibly accepting and loving family. They’ve taken in several of their nephews, nieces and grandchildren whose parents have either died or can’t afford to take of them. I am still trying to keep track of everyone who lives or visits here and keeping it all straight is sometimes hard! But everyone in the family gets a good laugh out of it so it’s all good! But yes, one of my favorite things about this family is the fact that they will take in anyone who needs help or needs a place to stay. Imagine a family who already has 10 children of their own who are either living with them or being supported by them, several grandchildren and nephews living with them, taking in yet another person, someone who they don’t know and is a foreigner, to boot! I mean it just blows my mind.

Another incredible and overwhelmingly generous thing about this family is that they have rearranged their whole house and living situation so that I can stay here. The parents MOVED OUT of their room to give me the biggest room that has its own bathroom. THEY MOVED OUT OF THEIR ROOM. Are you kidding me? I almost had a heart attack when Regina told me that, of course she told me in the most nonchalant way, as if it was obvious and common that someone would do that for a visitor. So everyone else has had to shift around so that I can have this room to myself (which of course they would have no other way). The parents moved to the room the girls used to sleep in, and I know everyone else moved around, it’s just all still a bit confusing to me! But then 3 of the children (when I say children I mean anyone from their kids in their 20s to grandchildren to nephews – it’s just easier to say children, savvy?) are sleeping on foam mattresses in a room connected to the living room. I mean, when I think about how much this family has sacrificed so that I’ll feel comfortable and welcome I just can’t handle it. It’s incredible, and I feel blessed beyond even being able to describe.

So please, if you are at all worried about me, how I’m doing or being taken care of, DON’T. This family is phenomenal. They have been helpful, welcoming, generous, friendly, and more loving than I could ever have hoped for. I know it must feel like I’m exaggerating but I seriously cannot tell you how amazing these sweet people are and how lucky I feel to be here. For those of you who are wondering, the basics as far as living details in the house are as follows. They have running water in some parts of the house but not others. For example, when I came I found out my sink had running water, but my toilet didn’t, so I would need to have my toilet filled with water from the tap outside every time I wanted to use it. They cook everything on either a charcoal stove inside (it sits on the ground and you have to sit on a very low stool in order to cook) or a kind of grill with firewood outside, for times when it’s not raining and you can cook outside. They don’t have a microwave, oven, refrigerator, freezer, or stove. Nothing you and I take for granted every single day of our lives. They handwash their clothes in a basin of water in the backyard, just using soap and their hands. A lot of the food they eat comes from some land they own and toil themselves. Everything about what they do consists of hard work, patience, and being creative with what you have. It’s incredible to see how they live every day and how you can actually thrive even with seemingly “so little”. They’re beyond grateful for everything they have and are so appreciative of even the smallest things. It’s very humbling and challenging to me. Oh, and the other thing is they do have a water tank and a tap/faucet in the backyard, but the shower had been broken for a while and so everyone just washed out of basins in the bathrooms. The first morning I was here I asked Bishop Okello, the father of the family, about their shower. He said it had been broken for a long time. I asked him to find out how much it would cost to fix and I would like to help with getting it fixed. This was definitely partly selfish; it would be a lot easier and faster for me to shower than to take baths out of a basin for 10 months. But obviously if it were fixed then the family could enjoy it for a long time, so it was a win-win situation. Bishop found out about the shower, it cost about $50 to fix, which I gladly gave them, and yesterday we all took showers! Well, Fred and I cleaned the bathroom first because honestly it was verrrry dirty, but I was happy to do it. If you know me, cleaning is cathartic to me and I don’t mind doing it. So Fred and I cleaned, and we all took showers, and it made me sooo happy to see them enjoying it. It was wonderful. And for fifty bucks. Really? That’s out of control. Also, the food the family makes is really good. Lots of rice, meat, potatoes, posho (a local food), noodles. It’s all very good. They are always making me extra food and giving me the best of everything, it’s amazing. And also, the ones living at home are Bishop (the dad), Mama Margaret (well, clearly), Emmanuel, Fred, Regina, Caleb, Timothe, Job, Steven…. And I think that’s it. :)

I know this is long, and bless you if you are still reading this, but I still have so much more to tell! Haha. I know a few of you will appreciate it and want to know all the details so by all means, continue reading if you are one of those. The other big thing was meeting the kids and seeing the orphanage, that happened on Sunday. There are about 20-25 kids living in 2 rooms, which is really not ok, but it’s all that’s available and affordable right now (if you remember, the kids had a bigger place they were living in until December, but the landlord asked for too many months in advance and they had to leave to a smaller place, and about half of the kids had to move back into the community, most to grandparents’ houses and things like that. To say it was heartbreaking to see where they lived and how little they have is an understatement, and I’m sure I won’t be able to fully communicate that either – you kind of have to be here. So please, come visit! But as with most children, they are very resilient and laugh and play and tease each other and have a good time, even though their circumstances are very sad and at times seemingly hopeless.

Basically Anthony told me that most of the kids were going to be starting in school, but the youngest ones, who are about 5 years old, would be staying at home because they aren’t old enough to start school yet, but he said he would love it if I would consider teaching them in the mornings so that they are still doing things that are productive and getting more exposure to English, etc. So that is what I’ll be doing.. I don’t know almost any of the details yet of how that’s going to work. They have some supplies, actually more than I was expecting, but then they don’t have some things like desks and chairs for the kids, so please pray for that. I’ll be teaching in the garage of the orphanage, so it’s not a lot of room but it could be worse.

That was a very hard afternoon. The night before, Saturday, had been the first night with my host family and I cried that night. It was very difficult to think about how alone I felt, how far I was from absolutely anyone I knew, and at that moment it felt like an eternity before I would get to go back home and see the people that I loved. Sunday was hard, seeing the kids at the orphanage and thinking about how impossible the task ahead of me seemed. I felt very discouraged and overwhelmed. I met the other volunteers who are here, a couple from Amsterdam named Irene and Leon, very nice people. Irene tried to encourage me a bit but I still felt like crying and giving up. Honestly, if there had been a plane there ready to take me back to Phoenix, I think I would’ve gotten on it. It was a hard moment.

However, as always, God is incredible and faithful and beyond good to me. That evening I took a boda boda home (a motorbike that people use as public transportation; it costs $1,000 shillings, or about 50 cents, to take it almost anywhere in town) for the first time, which I’d been dreading a little because it looked scary (traffic is unpredictable, there are no traffic lights, and nobody wears helmets). But it was actually wonderful, the driver didn’t go too fast, and the evening was beautiful. The sun was setting, enormous storm clouds were rolling in, and the wind was wonderful on the back of the boda.

When I reached home (about a 6 or 7 minute ride from the center of town) I was introduced to Emmanuel, the Okello’s 6th child, who is almost 21. I hadn’t realized I still had more of their children to meet, so that caught me off guard. The family was all sitting in the backyard when I got home, so I went to join them. Let me describe the atmosphere, please. First of all, their backyard is huge, enormous by Ugandan standards. They have a garden and just lots of grass. There are animals: hens, chickens, goats, cows. (I don’t think the goats and cows are theirs, but sometimes they graze in our yard. It’s delightful.) There’s nothing obstructing the view, so some kilometers in the distance you can see into a big mountain range, which is actually in Kenya. We’re very close to the border here in Tororo. So the view is absolutely gorgeous. As I said, there were storm clouds coming in (my first in Tororo), and the family was enjoying the evening breeze and watching the lightning storm over the Kenyan mountains. (YES, it was even more amazing than it sounds.) So anyway, enter me, I meet Emmanuel, I sit down with the family in the backyard, and Emmanuel and I begin talking. (From now on I’ll refer to him as Em, because it’s just easier and it’s what I call him. Actually, anyone here called Emmanuel is usually instead nicknamed Emma… which is interesting since they’re all guys. Culture change yeahhhh.) Em was incredibly friendly and talkative right from the beginning (everyone in the family is very nice, but Em, Regina, and Bishop are the most talkative ones). He started asking me a lot of questions; I did the same. I’m pretty sure it’s cultural for people to kind of stay out of a conversation and just stay quiet if two people have already begun a conversation; or at least it felt that way because Em and I must have talked for an hour with almost no interruption or addition from anyone around us. Em’s just an incredible man of God. I would not have guessed he’s only 20; by the way he acts, looks and presents himself he may as well be my age or older; a pattern I’ve noticed a lot in people here. Em is very disciplined, has a good job working for the local government hospital (he does various things, the main thing right now being going out into the villages nearby with nurses and taking medicine and food and counseling AIDS patients. Yes, legit), and he is utterly in love with Jesus, which shows in every aspect of his life. It’s again an understatement to say that he is a godly man; one who serves and honors and loves God with every part of himself. He has an incredible heart for people, especially children and those who are sick. The more I talked with him, the more encouraged I felt; the more I wanted to stay here and get to know people, invest in their lives, and just give up my needs and desires in exchange for what God wants. I mean, within a few hours my whole perspective got revamped and I just got a good kick in the head, is the best way I can describe it.

So much else has happened, but I think I will end off for now. I have been spending this week getting things ready and more organized at the orphanage, learning the town more, buying some things I’ve needed, and spending time with my host family, who I’m so blessed with. Know that I am praising Him so much for what He is doing; I’m so glad I’m here. Last night Em (who, along with a lot of the other people in the house, have told me that I must stay in Uganda now, as in I shouldn’t go back; and Em said now that I know people in the country, I can get a discounted plot of land here. I love my life!) started talking about how it would be hard to see me leave in December and how he wanted to be one of the ones who took me to the airport. I told him he had to promise to stop talking about me leaving because the thought of that was way too hard.

We’ll see. God knows. Praying you are all well; miss you very much!


PS. Yesterday evening there was a fabulous crazy and strong rain; it lasted about an hour; we were in town when it happened and had to “take cover” as Fred called it, until it settled down. So much fun!! Then when it got safe enough, we took bodas home, through all the mud and potholes, and Regina and I were riding on the same boda. At one point the mud got too thick and the motorbike just kind of stopped and starting falling to the side. Regina and I put our right feet down, which smacked right into the mud. Needless to say I washed about a pound of mud out of my shoe and off of my foot when I got home. Delightful African moment :) my family here laughs when I say I love the rain and want to stand outside in it. On Sunday, my first rain here, Em stood outside with me in the rain to humor me, I think. My host mom kept asking why would I want to be outside?! :)

Uganda #1: 3 Continents in 3 Days

“Go forth from your country, and from your relatives and from your father’s house, to the land which I will show you; and I will make you a great nation, and I will bless you, and I will make your name great, and so you shall be a blessing.” –Genesis 12:1-2

As I walked off the steps of the airplane, I was greeted by a warm breeze and the lowest sliver of a moon I’d ever seen, colored the deepest shade of orange you can imagine, settled just above the horizon. It was breathtaking, and I couldn’t believe it was the first thing I’d been shown in this new land; this new life.

After so many months of planning, organizing, praying, crying, talking, and thinking – I am here. The flight from Phoenix to London went surprisingly fast; the one from London to Entebbe, Uganda was one of the longest of my life! I’m sure some of that had to do with the fact that once I landed, I knew a course would be set in motion that would change my life forever; I knew there was no going back. The moment was brimming with anticipation and excitement.

There could not have been a bigger contrast between my layover city, London, and Kampala (Uganda’s capital). In Heathrow Airport there were more shops than I could ever imagine – Harrod’s, Coach, Tiffany & Co, I mean the list goes on and on. In Kampala I saw a place to exchange money. That was it. Well, I had never been to London before so I wanted to make the most of it. I landed at 2:30. By the time I figured out how to get on the tube and finally made it to my hostel, it was 5pm. I asked the man at the front desk (a congenial German lad named Nikolas) how much daylight he thought there was left. He said an hour at the most. Dang it! I thought. I knew I wanted to see some of the city, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about wandering the city alone at night. I finally decided to suck it up and go see Parliament Square, at least. So I set up my bed (I was at the bottom of a three-person bunk in a room of 15 beds), arranged my things, prayed I would survive this night, and ventured out. My hostel was a 10 minute walk from the nearest Underground (or tube) station and many of the red buses that can take you pretty much wherever you want to go. With the help of Nikolas’ directions, I took a bus to Parliament Square. It was all new to me, and difficult to figure out how to get off the bus and when (at one point I asked the driver if I could get off and he said, ‘Now?? In the middle of the road?!’ Yes, it was my finest hour). But I made it to Parliament, and one of the coolest moments was seeing that typical scene come up over the bridge: the river Thames with Parliament at its edge; Big Ben looming over everything. I’d seen that millions of times in movies and in pictures – it was amazing to finally see it with my own eyes.

Even though I wouldn’t have chosen to see London by night because of the fact that I was alone, it couldn’t have been more beautiful. I got to Parliament Square just as the sky was changing to dusk; it was a beautiful blue and everything was lit up – Big Ben, the Parliament buildings, Westminster Abbey. I didn’t realize all of these major buildings were all in the same square. It was incredibly convenient for me! :) I took as many pictures as I could, walked around, and took it all in.

I didn’t realize it might be cold in London til probably 2 days before I left for my trip. By then my thinking was, ‘I have so many things to take; I won’t be cold for the rest of the year, so I don’t see the point in taking things to keep me warm for just half a day in London.’ So as I walked around London I had on jeans, sandals with socks, a t-shirt, a jacket, and a scarf. I was definitely freezing, and had to keep reminding myself that soon I would not remember the meaning of the word cold (even as I sit here writing this in my hostel in Kampala it is about 85 degrees and extremely humid out, my fan isn’t working, and there isn’t a breeze). So anyway, I enjoyed Parliament Square, then decided instead of trying to deal with the buses again (I was tired, cold, hungry, everything was on the other side of the road and I kept feeling everyone staring at me) I just decided to walk back to my hostel, or at least in the direction of my hostel to find a place to have dinner. Well, of course, I got lost almost immediately. I had a map of the city with me and knew generally where I needed to go, but at one point the normal street cut into 3 new streets, all zigzagging in different directions, and suddenly I realized I’d better ask for help.
I stopped a kind older woman coming out of St. Thomas’ hospital and she was incredibly nice. She had one of the thickest accents I’ve ever heard, but was very nice and walked me in the direction I needed to be going (which turned out to be the same way she needed to go anyway – thank you Lord). I already knew I would be eating dinner at a pub down the street from my hostel called The Three Stags (Harry Potter? Anyone??). It was typical, it was British, and it was food. (PS – Beasley and Malmgren – It is 4 dollars.) At that point I hadn’t eaten in about 9 hours and I was starving. So I sat down and a nice woman who reminded me of Kate Winslet was my waitress. She brought me British tea (Twinings) and milk, then I ordered stuffed chicken, leek, and chips (French fries) for dinner. Everything was delicious and I was lucky to find a place that good so close to where I was staying. At that point I was dead and needed to get back to sleep; I knew I’d have to be waking up early.

At the hostel I slept very comfortably (albeit the large amount of noise being emitted from the people who were still awake out in the lobby) for about 4 hours, before waking up promptly at 2am and my body deciding it was confused as to the time and wasn’t going to let me sleep any longer. I laid there for a long time, willing myself to sleep, but it wasn’t happening. I logged online from my hostel bed (welcome to wifi) and chatted with some friends (you know who you are!) before it was time to get myself out of bed. I showered (all that was coming out was freezing water – it was about 30 degrees outside – but it was that or stay dirty – and after nearly passing out from the cold, I had a good laugh with myself about it), had a quick breakfast and headed out into the London dawn. It was cold but beautiful out; a bit foggy and just kind of magical. If you know me, I love all forms of water; oceans, creeks, fog, rain. (Also – the London fog reminded me of Mary Poppins and made me smile.) I took the tube and made it to Heathrow by 8am or so. (This is more for Missy than anyone else but, I listened to The Beatles all morning on the tube and enjoyed them thoroughly. I thought it only appropriate under the circumstances.) Even after talking to British Airways about my baggage (I was blessed enough that they checked my bags through all the way and I didn’t have to deal with them at all in London), going through security and getting my bearings, I still had over 2 hours until my flight (dad, be proud!). I was hungry, so I found the quaintest little café in the corner of terminal 5 that overlooked the airport and then the city beyond. I ate a sandwich and a latte and thought of my friends at Starbucks  The day was getting foggier and foggier and finally it began to rain. It was actually supposed to be colder and even snow the night I was there but, by the grace of God I did not have to deal with that. (Part of me thinks I’m probably putting too much detail into this but, oh well! You’ve read this far. It’s your choice to continue.)
All in all, they finally put up the number of the gate to Entebbe, and by the time we boarded and took off we were about half an hour late. The woman next to me, a wonderfully funny and charming lady who travels to Africa often, said this was normal and we should still get to Uganda on time. I slept for a bit on the plane, but mostly sat anxiously, trying not to think about how long it was taking, trying not to get overwhelmed with the emotion of everything. After one of the longest flights of my life, we arrived in Entebbe just after 10pm. The “customs” process, if you can even call it that, was incredibly simple and fast. The man glanced at my visa and passport, stamped a few stamps, snapped a picture with his webcam, and I was off. After finding my luggage and piling it onto the cart (thank you Jesus for free carts) I walked out into the lobby to look for Anthony, who was supposed to be meeting me there and taking me back to Kampala. There were a dozen people there holding up signs for people but my name was not on any of them. I walked outside where there were more people with signs, still without my name on them. I was asked (not forcefully, to my surprise) by several men if I needed a taxi, and I said someone was picking me up. A very nice Ugandan taxi driver kind of hung out with me until I saw Anthony about 10 minutes later – after my mind was beginning to creep into semi-panic mode as I thought of the fact that I was now alone in a foreign country, a single white female who may as well have had a big red target painted on my pale, freckled face. But God is good and I found Anthony, who met me along with his friend Thomas who also works with Orphans for Christ (OCA). I want to be as honest on this blog as possible for my own sake as well as for the sake of making much of God and of showing in every possible way that He is my Provider, Sustainer and Rock. When I first saw these men and began walking with them, I thought, ‘Well, this is it. They are the only people I know in the whole of the country and they can basically do whatever they want with me; I wouldn’t be able to do much about it; and okay God, I’m trusting You because there is no other option.’ It was an intense moment!

Both men were extremely nice, though, and I quickly felt at ease and able to express myself normally. Thomas was much more talkative than Anthony. He and I talked about Christianity and the LRA and Joseph Kony and the power of prayer and of how stable Uganda is, considering all that has happened here and in the surrounding countries. Somehow my luggage fit into the back of the small car they were driving and we were off. It was definitely damp and humid, but the breeze from the windows down helped a lot. We drove down the streets of Entebbe towards Kampala, many people still out on their bicycles and outside selling things on the streets though it was nearing on eleven by this time. Thomas sat in the backseat with me, and again, we chatted about a lot of things. (Side note: I could not find a seatbelt where I was sitting. No one else in the car bothered to put theirs on but, I definitely had several moments of slight panic since I had no seat belt on and the driving was, let’s say, questionable at times. A cultural difference you can’t do much about.) Finally Anthony told me I would be staying in a guest house down the street from his office and that in the morning we would tour around the city a bit and buy whatever I needed to buy.

So here I am. I slept a sound 7 hours last night and awoke to the sound of birds and chickens making their morning noises. I have a big bed and a shower (it’s actually the kind where the shower, toilet and sink are all in the same room – so when you shower the water gets on the toilet – pretty great) and a fan that worked for most of the night, though for some reason it has currently given up of exhaustion. I am definitely sticky and sweaty and have times where I think Dear God, bring a breeze! But I am doing great. I am so thankful for how He has kept me safe, that all my things made it here, that I am finally in Uganda, that I have legit godly men around me (Thomas prayed for me as soon as I got into the car last night and I’m pretty sure Anthony brought Thomas with him so it wouldn’t just be he and I), and that I am at the beginning of this adventure. Geez, didn’t think I’d write that much about 2 days! Well, dear friends, I love you all and am so grateful for your input in my life and for your love and support. I will be in touch. I love hearing from you. God bless!!

Also SIDE NOTE!! haha as if this wasn't already like a thousand years long. I've just spent the last hour at Anthony's office/OCA headquarters which is down the street from where I'm staying. I know a lot more about OCA now, which I will probably fully update on in a later post. But for those of you who are praying, please add these requests:

-Anthony really needs a car donated to him (or the money for one) as he travels between Kampala and Tororo all the time and has to take public transport, which gets complicated when he has to take supplies there

-OCA needs money (probably upwards of $15,000) to buy land and build a school and a home for the orphans in Tororo. right now they were forced to leave the last place they were renting and now half the kids were sent back to guardians; the other half are squeezed into someone's house and are being taken care of by an old widow. THIS IS NOT THAT MUCH MONEY!!! I just raised $8,000 for my trip. clearly God can do whatever He wants

-praise that God has brought me to a place full of true believers, laughing children, big smiling faces, a place full of opportunity for Him to do great things once again.