A Lesson in Bravery

photo credit: Rachel Pieh Jones | www.djiboutijones.com

The story, A Child of Two Worlds, was published a couple of years go in the New York Times, but I just came across it today. It really resonated with me. I don’t know if it’s because I sometimes think that if I’m to live in Uganda for the rest of my life I might be too scared to give birth, or if it’s because of the description Rachel Pieh Jones gives of her daughter at the end:
“Except for when I woke her to nurse, Lucy slept through the first night, her face serene and flawless. I kissed her rosebud lips and smoothed her hair and sang lullabies. This was my Djiboutian American daughter, a perfect combination of my two worlds. Born to American parents, in a Muslim country, on a day of infamy, she epitomized the people and places I had come to love.”

She has a video on the Desiring God website. I don’t have kids and I have never done anything as dramatic as give birth in such conditions, but before I moved out here people, even those who didn’t really know me, kept telling me how brave I was. It’s a weird feeling because so many times you feel anything but brave. I think that her video sums it up perfectly. We are not brave because being brave indicates that we have summoned up some kind of courage from within. But rather, we are desperate, breathless, and fully dependent of God. It would be a huge mistake to think otherwise.

If you enjoyed this, check out the post: Bless Her Heart (And Other Reactions)

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Learning to Live a Needy, Loving Life

Most of my time here in Uganda is spent with kids. It’s practically unavoidable. Back home I had my fair share of time around those of the younger age bracket, but it wasn’t at all like it is now. I could go to class, a coffee shop, work, friends’ houses, and run to the store without coming into contact with children. The life here is a different story. There are very few stolen moments throughout the day that I am not being sat on, hugged, having my hand held, jumped on, climbed on, being asked a question, pulled to go play a game, asked for a sweetie or water, tied up as the damsel in distress, or being shown something gross that someone has just killed, stepped in, or found laying in the bush. I live a very kid friendly life.

 In an effort of complete transparency, I find sincere joy in being around kids, but there are the moments that I just “need a break”. I don’t know how many times I have said that since I have been here. Before I came I couldn’t imagine every growing tired or exhausted by those sweet little faces that smile at you and shout “Jerdani! Jerdani!” (their version of Jordan). They have such innocence, spunk, sheer abandonment. Personal space or social boundaries do not apply to them. There’s no need to knock before they enter into my house because why wouldn’t I want to see them and give them a hug and play for the rest of the day until it's too dark to see on the walk home? Struggle is a reality in their little lives, but they still find the energy and excitement to run and play and shout and forget everything that is going on around them for those precious moments. My heart breaks every time that I give a kid that I have never met before a hug and immediately they are clinging to me for as long as I will allow and all of their trust has become wrapped up in this stranger who just showed them the first act of affection they have felt in days. Their world is small, but their love is large. They crave love. They need love. But don’t we all? 

Observing these kids as they eat, play, learn, interact, and live as children in a very simple world without electronics and media, has taught me so much about the basic needs of humanity; the bare essentials that we are sometimes too proud to admit that we need. I have realized that over time, I have become a very independent person who avoids admitting my need for others at the fear of looking needy or helpless. In my mind, as soon as you need the help or attention or care of others you are at the mercy of that person; which is unacceptable. I have been missing out on the joys that come from community and mutual care and concern. Sure, I have my few trusted friends that I would share my burdens with, but outside of that I would be hesitant to let on to any struggles taking place in my life. This is ironic seeing that I have a counseling degree and I’m always encouraging people to bring their issues into the light because that is the only place that they will find freedom. 

The people here in Uganda, in this village, depend on each other. They depend on each other for their physical and emotional needs. When someone is struggling or parents pass away, the kids are taken to an Auntie’s house or a Jaja’s (grandparent’s) house and looked after. There really isn’t any debate about it and the idea of Family Services is so foreign that they laugh at the idea. Of course you will take in your brother’s kids if there is any kind of need. Of course you will work another job to send money to your sister so that she can pay her school fees and finish high school. Self sacrifice for the community is assumed. There is no shame in asking and there is no pride in giving. I have to schedule time in each week to go and visit different people in the community because as soon as I begin to slack off I hear about it and they are wondering what is wrong because they haven’t had me drop by to chat. For all the years that I lived in the States, I can’t really remember just “stopping by” to chat with my neighbors, and I’m sure that they weren’t offended by that. Community is strong here; it’s an expression of concern and unity. It’s an expression of love. People want to be thought of and they want to be shown that you are making an effort to love them. It takes an effort to visit. It takes time, it takes energy to walk to their place, it takes stepping out of your comfort zone as you fumble through language barriers and cultural differences, it takes love for that person to put all that aside and put their needs before your own.

 In the first weeks that I was here I didn’t want to go visit people unless they had invited me because I thought that it would be rude to just show up. Maybe they were busy, maybe they didn’t want visitors, or maybe they would be with someone else and didn’t want to be interrupted. But I quickly discovered that if they were busy, I became busy with whatever they were doing, if they were relaxing, I would relax with them and chat and drink chai and eat some mango, and if they were with someone else I would jump into the conversation and potentially make a new friend to add to the visitation list.

 Life here is about community, literally you do life together, all of it. It’s beautiful and exhausting all at the same time. You are forced to bear the burdens of those around you. When someone is struggling, you feel their struggle, when someone is rejoicing you feel their joy, when someone is in need, you fight to meet that need. I have never felt so much a part of a community before. I have never been stripped of my pride and self-sufficiency in such a raw way. 

God has been teaching me so much about being transparent to those around me, pouring myself out to the ones I am surrounded by, and laying bare all of my boundaries and walls of pride and independence. Not only with those who I am doing life with, but also with Him. Many of my prayers have become declarations of my inability to help myself, admissions of my need for God’s mighty hand because I have no answers, no conclusions, and no solutions. God has been dealing with me in a faithful and gentle way. He is such a kind and wise God who pushes us to painfully tear off the pieces of ourselves that do not bring him glory and that hinder us from clinging only to him. I have been meditating on Psalm 30 lately and verse one has meant a lot to me when it says,

“I will extol you, O Lord, for you have drawn me up and have not let my foes rejoice over me.”

When the kids come running and shouting “Jerdani!” with their arms out and eyes shining trusting that I am going to catch them, or try my best, when they jump towards me, I can’t help but think about God as our Father drawing us into his arms. When I hold these little ones I just want to wrap my arms around them and give them enough love to last weeks and weeks until they can feel that kind of love again, I think about how the only place that we can find pure, true love that will never run out is in the arms of God. When I read this verse I think that sometimes we can be the biggest foes in our own life. We limit ourselves to love others and be loved by others, and we limit ourselves to know the true love of our Father. 

We were created to need love. We were created to love. We were created out of love.

African Holidays

Seku Kulu Nnungi!! Time really does get away from you out here in the jungle; especially when it’s holiday season. So much has happened since my last post, and I’m terribly sorry that I have not been able to write any new updates.

But, the wait is over. I’m going to try and include as many pictures in this one as possible because I hear that they are worth 1,000 words or something…

The holiday celebrations here in Uganda are so so different from the ones in the States. There’s no electricity in the village so you can forget houses covered in Christmas lights, and snow is out of the question. So, you really have to get your head in the game when it comes to making it feel like Christmas is coming.

We started the season with a great Thanksgiving dinner with the SOS Staff, complete with chicken, mashed potatoes, squash casserole (to replace the sweet potatoes), green bean casserole, rolls, and pies. It was quite the task to cook it all up because we don’t have the modern conveniences from back home, so everything has to be made from scratch, including the onion rings for the casserole, and we can’t use a microwave or hand blender, so those mashed potatoes took some serious effort. But I have to say that the food was spectacular and we loved every minute of the 48 hours it took to prepare. I am so thankful for the family that I have out here in Uganda and their ability to bring a little bit of America to the jungle.

The American SOS Staff minus Laura who was taking the picture, and Nate who is hiding behind the Thanksgiving sign.

Pumpkin pie made from pumpkins fresh from the market.

Caramel Apple pie with homemade caramel sauce. De-lish.

Laura's famous dinner rolls.

The day after Thanksgiving we had a Christmas party at Legacy Christian Academy and the graduation ceremony for the kids. It was a huge event for all the parents in the village and the kids had been preparing for weeks leading up to the day. We had everything from poems to songs, skits, and dances. It was so sweet to see the little African shepherds and wise men coming to see Jesus in the manger built by one of the men in the village. When I wasn’t smiling from ear to ear at the cuteness, I was just thinking about how Jesus came to die for people from all nations. And even though we are all so different in culture, God can still be worshipped in so many different ways. But I have to admit, the African way might be the best…maybe I’m a little biased.

Go ahead, they are absolutely adorable.

My boy Tom. He just passed K-2 with flying colors!

Junior and his sweetie. I think that half the personality in the world was bundled up and put into this kid.

The church has been busting at the seams the past few weeks, we have seen so many new people come through our doors, and the messages leading up to Christmas have been pointed at everyone’s need for a Savior so we are just praying that peoples’ hearts are softened. The Sunday before Christmas we didn’t have Sunday morning church, but instead we had a Christmas concert that night. So, in order to be a part of the community and appease the demands of the villagers, I joined the choir. I had 2 weeks to learn 6 songs in Luganda and Swahili, along with dances. In the beginning I was convinced that I was just going to mouth some words and pretend like I was singing, but then people kept telling me that since I was the only Mzungu (white person) on stage, people would be watching me very closely so I had better get it right. So, I buckled down and I am proud to say that I learned each song along with its dance to the fullest extent. I can’t say that I looked like an African, but I sure sounded like one. In those moments I just laugh and thank God for the opportunity to not take myself so seriously and have fun with my friends. It was a great time. After the concert we showed the Nativity movie and served some popcorn with soda. It was quite the treat. That night might have been one of my favorites so far.

Daniel, Joshua, and Benja. Sunday school is always more interesting when they are around.

All I have to do is sit there and I am instantly surrounded with little hands putting my hair on their head and shouting, "Me a Mzungu!"

In the midst of all these holiday celebrations, one of the couples in our village had their wedding celebrations. Here in Uganda the man has to pay the dowry for his bride and they have to have an introduction ceremony as well as the modern wedding ceremony. The introduction ceremony is when the groom and his clan go to the house of the bride’s father and their whole clan is there and the groom has to be introduced to the bride’s clan or tribe. This is when the groom brings the dowry to the father and brothers of the bride. I was asked to be the photographer for the introduction, so I loaded up with the groom and his family along with chickens, fruit, coffee, and a very large cow and we started making our way to the bride’s father’s house. What would have taken us 45 minutes ended up taking 4 hours to get there because we had to stop so many times to pick things and people up along the way. That’s Africa for you. But we finally arrived; I put on my gomezi (the traditional Buganda dress) and got out my camera to start capturing the moments. What I didn’t know what that the speaker on the groom’s side had decided to make the guest of honor, so I was seated in the front with the groom as his sister and chosen to participate in multiple parts in the ceremony. It was just one other moment when I had to remember not to take myself too seriously. I was standing and sitting, kneeling, dancing, and giving gifts to different people the whole time. But the perk was at the end when I was invited to go into the house and eat the meal with the groom and his family. I have really come to love Ugandan food, and that was the finest of all Ugandan food, so I didn’t mind at all. 

This cow went on a wild ride to the introduction. I'm just glad I didn't have to sit in the back with him...

The gift presented to the bride's father and brothers. I think those poor chickens knew their lives were quickly coming to an end.

At the end of the ceremony, after 3 wardrobe changes, the bride served her groom soda and they danced around a little and then we headed back home.

The ceremony lasted about 4 hours. It starts with the groom’s clan arriving and the bride’s clan acts like they didn’t know he was coming and so when we all walked in they act surprised like they don’t know what is going on. Then the two sides sit to face each other and the groom sits in the back so the bride’s clan has to go and find him and put the proper hat on his head and coat around him. Once he is moved to the front with his sister, the ceremony can begin and different groups of people parade in dancing, gifts are presented, the bride is presented, the dowry is paid, and papers are signed. Basically, the father is selling his daughter to the groom’s clan. Daughters are big money makers over here. I pretty much had no idea what was going on most of the time, but I just did as I was told and took it all in. Ugandans are very expressive and colorful people. They will never turn down a good party and good food.

Fanci and Nsubuga after their wedding ceremony.

Lydia made such an adorable flower girl.

Fanci in her 5th dress of the wedding festivities. Cutting the cake always involves sparklers. I think I like it.

Life has been crazy around here. God has been doing some great things and he has been blessing me over and over again. I am getting to know so many of the people in the villages and they are welcoming me in with open arms. I have come to love these people so much and it didn’t take long at all. I pray that you had a great holiday season as well and were able to remember what a miracle it was for our Lord to leave his throne in heaven and come to live with sinful people like ourselves. Our God is so magnificent and loving. I pray that I can have that same kind of love for the people here in Uganda. Leaving America to come live in the jungle pales in comparison to what God did for us, but I have been so encouraged by his birth this year when I sit and think about it. I pray that God keeps me from forgetting how humble he was and that I would imitate that same humility even when the water isn’t hot, the power goes out, or I am just really craving some Chick-fil-a sauce.

When you can't get that Chick-fil-a sauce a fried grasshopper will do...you have to just go with what you have available on the side of the road.

Village Profile: John Ntenderi

There is someone very special that I would like to introduce you to. His name is John Ntenderi. He is 16 years old and has one of the sweetest spirits in the village.  His dad died when he was 9 years old and so he is left with his mom, step dad and from what I can figure, 8 siblings. He is a hard worker and just finished Primary 7, which is basically like 8th grade. He will begin secondary school in February. John is a smart kid who loves Jesus and is kind to everyone he comes in contact with.

This is the look that stays on John's face most of the time.

Unfortunately, John doesn't get to enjoy most of the things that the other kids his age get to enjoy. He can't play soccer, he can't run around with the other kids, and he has to take it pretty easy when it comes to walking around standing up for too long. John has a swollen right leg that prevents him from doing any of these things and more. It has progressively gotten worse since birth, and because he family doesn't have much money at all, he hasn't been able to have it treated. 

John was one of the first people that I met when I moved here to Uganda in September. He was one of the first people at church in the morning, and came right up to introduce himself to me and ask my name. I couldn't forget the smile of this sweet kid. Later I was told by my housemate that he was in her Sunday School class and was a sweet, faithful kid. Then I noticed that he didn't really go out and play with the other kids and when I asked why they showed me his swollen leg.

It wasn't until one night I was at my house getting ready for dinner, and I heard John outside my door saying that he was hurt. When I went outside he told me that he had fallen off his bike and his arm was pretty bloody. So, like the gifted nurse that I am (sarcasm) I grabbed the medical supplies and cleaned the guy up. It wasn't a horrible cut, but it did need some attention. But, even after I bandaged it up, John was still saying that he was in pain. I asked him what was bothering him and he explained that the compression sock that he had been wearing on his leg in order to help with the swelling had lost its elasticity and wasn't doing anything anymore. So, after checking it out I told him that the next time I was in town I could pick him up a new one. But, I realized that it was only a temporary fix to his problem so I began to do a little research on his problem. 

John after his baptism. He was so excited to finally be baptized.

After Googling his symptoms and checking out what I could on WebMD, which is about the extent of my medical expertise, I figured out that John had a circulation problem and that we should have him go see a doctor so that we could get a proper diagnosis that didn't come from the internet. So off to Kampala we went. This was John's second time to the capitol, and I'm pretty sure that he was thrilled to get to go, even if it was to be poked and prodded by doctors. We spent the day running from one doctor to the next, getting everything from a general check up, to a heart echo, to ultrasounds on his leg. Eventually, we were able to figure out that he has something called Arteriovenous Malformation. Which basically means that when he was born the capillaries in his right leg weren't formed correctly so his veins and arteries aren't connected properly which causes the swelling because the blood isn't being distributed correctly. 

The doctor that diagnosed him gave us a referral to see the top vascular surgeon in Uganda to have a final test run in order to see if it is operable. Since we had just spent about 6 hours going from one doctor to the next, we didn't have time to go and see him that day, but we are going to be able to go in hopefully before Christmas sometime and see if we can get John's leg fixed. Unfortunately, the doctor said that he doesn't think that the swelling will go down all the way even if he can have the surgery because of all the damaged tissue from 16 years of swelling, but some of the swelling with go away and he won't have to deal with the pain anymore. 

He's definitely Ugandan, refusing the fork at all times.

 The hope is that John can have the surgery and be able to walk to and from school without being in severe pain, and maybe even play some soccer with his friends. He is such a sweet boy and doesn't let this thorn in the flesh hinder him from loving others and loving God. He has been to my house about 3 times since we returned from the doctors' appointments to thank me for loving him and trying to help his leg. Today he told me that even if his leg can't be fixed he will still be thankful that I took the time to try. I have learned so much from his perspective on life. John has challenged me to see all the ways that I can serve others even if there are ways that they can be serving me. John could sit around and use the fact that it's hard for him to walk as a reason that he shouldn't give of himself to those who could use a little love. There are so many smaller hurdles in my life that I am not willing to jump over in order to love others around me. Some days I wish that I didn't have to walk to bible study because it's hot, or I had a long day teaching. I can say now that when I am tempted to grumble or complain I will remember mine and John's long day in Kampala sitting and waiting all day, and how John never once showed that he was frustrated with the fact that we were not being seen right at our appointment time even if I was struggling to hold my tongue to the assistants working in the office. 

Please be in prayer for John as I continue to figure out how to best help him and get his leg healed. Pray that I would persevere as I figure out how to navigate the medical scene here in Uganda. Pray that John's doctors and surgeon would have wisdom and guidance as we move forward, and that there would be a solution to the problem. And pray that I would learn to never grumble or complain, that I would remember that every day is a gift and a blessing from the Lord.

One Week: Under the Belt, Or Maybe Head Scarf

Well, I have finished my first full week here in Uganda. I arrived here late Thursday night on the 12^th, but Friday was really just a rest day and then Saturday I spent most of the day settling in and walking around the village and the S.O.S. property. So much has changed since I was last here! It’s really encouraging to see the ministry grow so much in only 2 years! Speaking of growing, as I getting over jet lag on Friday, one of the kids came running to tell us that they had found 2, I repeat, TWO, 7 foot green mambas in the village in a tree above a man’s hut and he had knocked them out of the tree with a rock and smashed their head with a shovel. So naturally we went running to see them. When we got to the house a boy had them both tied to the back of his bike and was dragging them around and the other kids were chasing after him. Pretty typical… Of course I was bullied into touching them, I didn’t want to, but I also didn’t want to look like a big mzungu wimp. It was quite the welcoming to the jungle to say the least.

On Saturday I headed out to Kamapala, the capitol, with Shannon, the 3 of the 4 Hurley boys, and Obote, one of the students living with the Hurleys, to watch the boys play in a baseball game. Basically, they had heard about this team and they wanted to play, so we went to Kampala to check it out. When we showed up there were about 4 teams there and they were playing tournament style and the team that the boys were playing on was getting ready to warm up to play against this other team from the city. It was really bizarre because I never thought that I would be going to baseball game in Uganda, soccer is assumed, but not baseball. The boys did great, considering that they were playing with kids much larger than them and they had never practiced before, and their team even won their game!

          Even though they didn't really have all the supplies they needed and most of them weren't even wearing shoes, they had a great time and it was a ton of fun to watch!

During the day when I’m not playing with 7 foot mambas or going to Ugandan baseball games, I am a homeschooling the Hurley kids. There’s Elisa (14), Ezekiel (11), and Ethan (10), and Evan (7). Let me tell ya, it’s a really humbling experience when you get a 9^th grade algebra problem wrong, or you have to read the lesson over again because you can’t remember the process of photosynthesis. It’s a real temptation to just tell the kids that they are never going to use that stuff again, but I just have to fight the urge and tell them how important it is to know the difference between chlorophyll and chlorine. The first week has been a lot of fun, and we are really getting into the groove of things.

 Elisa was busy being diligent with her work, so she couldn't make it for the class picture.

After school is finished for the day, I move onto the other tasks that I have to complete. I am helping out the primary school here on the property, Legacy Christian Academy, and that is really neat to see what a quality school they are running here in the middle of the bush. It’s so great to see these kids get such a good education that teaches them about Jesus at the same time. Please remember them in your prayers as they continue to education 100 kids this term and more to come in 2014!

On Mondays after school I meet with a lady named Felistas. She is my translator for my Thursday bible study and we meet together on Mondays to go over the study that we are going through. It’s a really great opportunity because while she is helping me out I am able to disciple her and walk with her through Scripture. Tuesdays and Wednesdays I go to bible studies with other women led by different people here at SOS and Thursdays I jump on a boda boda (basically a low powered motorcycle) and head about 20 minutes away to a neighboring village called Bukyeke and lead a bible study there. I have been told that the numbers can vary a little, but I can expect to see Edith, Patrick, Justine, Hezron, and Lydia there every week. Out of those five people only Justine is a believer. Edith is an Anglican, Patrick is a Catholic, and Hezron and Lydia don’t claim a religion. This last week when I went they had so many questions, especially Patrick, and are so open to the Gospel. Please be in prayer for this bible study as we go through Romans and they can see that Christ is the only remedy for their sin. It’s such a sweet group of people and I am completely overwhelmed with excitement to study Scripture with them every week. Sundays are spent with a group of Muslim kids in a village about 30 minutes away teaching them stories about Jesus. Their parents are mostly Muslim, but in this culture there isn’t much accountability as to where your kids are during the day, so they are free to come to bible study without their parents caring. It’s great to spend that time with them playing games and memorizing Scripture while they learn about a greater God than Allah.

 

All in all, this first week has been such a great start to an exciting year. I am so thrilled to see how God is going to work in my life and the lives of the people that I am around. I know there are going to be challenges along the way, but I also know that my God is bigger than those challenges and I have a lot of people praying for me back in America. Thank you for keeping up with my blog, and I would love to hear from you and what is going on in your life on the other side of the world! Feel free to email me at journeysofamzungu@gmail.com. Thank you for reading and keep your eyes open for more news about what is going down in the bush!