Lesson 15: Sunday School Stars

          On Saturday, April 2^nd Natalie, Jennifer, our guard David and I took a trip just outside of Mbale for a village visit.  We drove for about 30 minutes before we met Benard, one of our guards, by the side of the road.  He then directed us to his church, where we arrived right on time at 10 am.  Of course, this being Uganda, we were the first ones there.  It was a Saturday morning, and so most people were out in the fields working instead of in church.  The few members who were there showed us to the places of honor at the very front of the church, and we were led in some songs of praises until more members came in from the fields.

            After singing, the pastor encouraged the members to share testimonies with the church.  The most interesting testimony came from a boy about 12 years old named Job.  He was a very charismatic little guy with a great smile.  Job praised God for his health, because recently he had been very sick. He was diagnosed with sickle cell anemia, but was now feeling strong and was happy to be in church praising God.  After this, the children’s Sunday School Choir came to the front of the church to sing for us- and we were all blown away!  Job was the leader of the choir- he’s the kid with the amazing voice wearing the blue shirt in the videos.

            In this last video, you can see Job’s acting skills.  Since they sung this song in Luganda, David had to explain to us what was going on in this song.  Job’s character in the song had killed the two boys kneeling in front of the choir because they were following God.  The girls who lifted up the boys were angels who took their bodies up to heaven.  However, Job doesn’t understand what happened and is totally bewildered when he can’t find the bodies.  Interesting kids song, huh?

Lesson 14: Calling All Termites

            On April 1^st, I was able to tag along with my roommate, Natalie, to watch some of her students compete at a track and field day outside of Mbale.  Natalie is the program coordinator at Lulwanda Children’s Home, which cares for over 100 orphaned and abandoned children.  (Check out Natalie’s blog at http://www.natalierolfe.blogspot.com/ and learn more about the Lulwanda Children’s Home at http://www.ugandaorphans.org/about_lulwanda.htm/ .)  On this day, Lulwanda’s best track and field competitors were traveling to a nearby school to run, jump, and shotput their way to victory!

            After giving me a quick tour of the children’s home, Natalie drove her car up to the on-site primary school.  Kids dressed in track uniforms that read “Texas” on the back swarmed around her car and crammed themselves into the backseat, excited for their big day.  We turned onto the main road, talking with the boys about who would run the fastest.  Natalie turned the car onto a side road, and proceeded to drive along one of the worst roads I had yet seen in Uganda.  I think she spent more time driving through the grass fields along the side of the road than on the road itself.  We inched carefully past matooke fields and farmers who waved cheerfully at the car full of African children and two mzungu women until we finally arrived at the school grounds. 

            When you think of a track and field meet in the states, you typically think of a 6 or 8 lane rubber-coated running track, complete with a nicely kept grassy area for field events, and perhaps a set of bleachers.  In Africa, you have a big, flat area with the grass worn where the track is located, and a few lanes spray painted onto the ground for the shorter distance sprints.  At the start of the day, each of the schools had their competitors line up while the officials addressed the crowd.  (They spoke in Luganda, so I had no idea what they said.  It didn’t really matter; most of the kids either couldn’t hear them or weren’t paying attention.)  All the students then sung the national anthem, and then prepared for the first race, which was the senior boy’s 10k, or 25 laps around the track.

            Watching the events was fun, but the best part was watching the onlookers.  Check out this video of the girls cheering for their classmates.

            Sprinting events were exciting to watch.  However, it got a little bit too exciting when the javelin event started.  The javelins were landing uncomfortably close to the crowd.  Thankfully, Natalie convinced the the askari (guard) in charge of maintaining order that the crowds needed to be moved away from the javelin event.  This particular askari kept the kids in order by running around with a switch and threatening to beat the kids with it if they didn’t move.

           

            Long jump was another fun event to observe.  I’ve never watched a long jump competition in the states, but I imagine it would be run a little differently than it is here.  The kids run and jump into a tilled plot of soil similar to in the states so that you can measure the distance from the point of take-off to where they landed.  However, to measure the distance traveled, the “officials” in charge (teachers from various schools) hold a long, crooked stick over the point where the jumper landed, then place a twig with the student’s name on the side of the plot of soil to mark their jump.  Very precise.

            The most interesting part of the day wasn’t even a track and field event- it was the calling of the termites!  At the end of the dry season, after a few rains come and soak the earth, the termites, or “white ants” as they are sometimes called, fly up out of the earth to mate.  In Uganda, termites aren’t so much of a nuisance as they are a snack.  The kids love to eat them, and so they try to encourage the shy termites to come out by calling to them.  Listen to the kids cooing to the bugs in this video:

The kids put pieces of plastic over the termite holes to trap the bugs, then popped them straight into their mouths for a quick and easy snack.  Regretfully, I stuck to less adventurous cuisine that day, so I can’t tell you what termites taste like.

Lesson 13: African Aerobics

           When you spend four months in Uganda, you are presented with some interesting opportunities.  For me, one of the most exciting to date was African aerobics class.

            For those who have never opted to participate in an aerobics class in the states, allow me to take a minute to fill you in.  First off, the class will probably consist of entirely females.  The class will last an hour, consist of a ten minute warm up period, a half-hour work out consisting of either a floor routine, step aerobics, or a combination of the two, followed by mat work or weights, and finally conclude with a ten minute cool down.  The entire class will be set to upbeat remixes of semi-current pop songs, and your instructor will typically take great care in calling out the upcoming moves.  That’s the typical American aerobics experience.

            Hop on a plane, jet across the Atlantic, and make your way to Mt. Elgon Hotel’s African version of aerobics, Mondays through Thursdays starting at 6:30 PM.  While your plane ticket may cost 2,500 US dollars, you’ll only pay 5,000 Ugandan shillings for this incredibly rigorous workout. (That’s less than 2.50 US dollars.)  When you enter the thatched-roof dining room, be prepared to start right away, because there is no warm-up included in this program.  As you start a step-touch routine, you’ll notice that the number of men in the room greatly outnumber the women.  You’ll also notice that the music being played is Christian worship and praise songs sung in English, and the tempo is somewhere between 20 and 40 beats per minute faster than any workout music used in North America.

            Now that you’re starting to work up a sweat doing the step-touch, pay special attention to your instructor.  Can you figure out what he’s saying? Neither can I.  You will hear him yell out a series of numbers in English that may or may not have any meaning.  You will also hear him say the word, “Loop! Loop!” multiple times, which means he’s going to start doing some ridiculous turning step that will be repeated so many times you’ll want to puke before he decides you should perform the step the same number of times in the opposite direction.

            Once you get into the groove of a certain step, you may notice that the power has gone out, meaning you and the fifteen other aerobicizers will be left grape-vining in the dark with no music.  Don’t worry, your instructor will yell out for you to continue as he fumbles around in the dark, waiting for the generator to kick on, at which point the lights will come on and the music will resume.  Also, do not be alarmed if the instructor gets tired and leaves the room for some fresh air, or to take a phone call.  Simply continue doing whatever you were doing.  He’ll be back soon!

            All in all, I've greatly enjoyed this unique opportunity to experience aerobics abroad.  It's a great workout, and I love going with my roommate on Thursday nights!  I would definitely recommend Mt. Elgon aerobics to anyone looking to get in shape!

Lesson 12: Ronda alla Kenya

            

           Up to this weekend, the closest I’ve ever been to a rainforest was Rainforest Café.  Although being surrounded by animatronic gorillas and experiencing a “rainstorm” every 20 minutes can be fun, the real thing is by far much more exciting.

            This week, all the women on the Mbale Mission Team packed up for the week, left the kids with the guys and drove across the border to the Kakamega rainforest in Kenya for a women’s retreat.  After five hours of driving along pot hole infested roads, stopping for potty breaks and waiting at the border for an hour, we arrived at the Rondo Retreat center just in time for lunch during an impressive downpour.  It was absolutely incredible!  We were served an amazing roasted-tomato pasta dish in a beautiful dining room while the skies unburdened themselves for about 30 minutes.  It was raining so hard you almost had to yell to be heard from across the table!  After the rain stopped, the sun immediately came out and we were free to wander around.  

           I felt like I was Eve in the garden of Eden- except I was fully clothed.  The grounds looked immaculate, with gorgeous trees and flowers popping up all over the place.  The scent of fresh rain was more fragrant than any fabric softener I’ve ever purchased by the same name.  There were short walking paths venturing into the forest, leading to small waterfalls and fish ponds.  While you were walking, you could observe butterflies, birds, and even monkeys!

 

          These colobus monkeys were enjoying their lunch and kindly agreed to get together for a group photo. 

       The second morning of our retreat, I joined veteran bird-watcher Linda and our guide, Ben, for a bird walk.  I’ve never tried bird watching before, but I figured it would be a shame to pass up the opportunity.  It was so cool!  We walked around the paths in the forest just outside of the retreat center.  Ben knew the name of every single bird we saw.  Even if he couldn’t see the bird, he could identify it by its call.  He could even imitate birds and call them over to us!   Once I got the hang of the binoculars, I managed to spot a whole bunch of birds.  I can’t find our exhaustive list from this week, but here are some sketches and a few names of what we saw:

After the bird walk the same day, we took a hike up an extinct volcano in the middle of the rainforest.  Hiking was a bit exhausting- not that the terrain was difficult, but the altitude of more than 1530 meters/5020 feet meant oxygen wasn’t exactly as plentiful as I was used to.  Going through the forest was beautiful and quite informative.  Ben was our guide again, and pointed out many different plants that were used for medicinal purposes.  He even showed us a leaf with a super rough texture that’s used as sandpaper!

            The hill itself was quite steep, but the hike was well worth it.   The top is a great place to look out on the entire Kakamega rainforest.  Nutrients from the volcanic soil have been washed off the hill, so the larger trees don’t grow there, meaning there’s nothing much to obstruct the view.  Check it out!

     All in all, it was quite a wonderful week.  If you ever find yourself in Kenya, go check out the Rondo Retreat Center!  I guarantee that you'll love it!

Lesson 11: Mawadge is wot bwings us togeder tooooday…

Today I attended my very first African wedding!  It made me very glad the wedding I will be a part of in May is an American wedding.  They’re much more expedient.

            I’ll take this opportunity to fill you in on some cultural East African stuff that may (or may not) help you understand why weddings are so different.  First off, Americans with a western mindset are time oriented.  When you plan a time to meet, you mean that precise time.  If worship starts at 10 AM, the song leader starts worship at 10 AM.  When you get a wedding invitation in the states, you know precisely what time the ceremony will start (and you wouldn’t dare be late to a wedding).  Africans approach time quite differently.  They are more event-oriented than time-oriented.  If worship starts at 10 AM, you can show up at 11, or 12…or a little later than that.  As long as you were at church for part of the service, even just the tail end, it still counts as “going to church.”  Things don’t necessarily start at the time previously agreed upon; it starts when everyone gets there.  Part of this is due to the unreliable transport available here.  Very few individuals are wealthy enough to own their own car.  Most people depend on catching a boda or piki, or walking.  The other reason to wait until people are there is that…well, if no one’s here, no one is ready to get started! It’s quite simple!

            Today’s wedding was scheduled to start at 10 AM.  But no one was actually there when it started.  In fact, the groom didn’t get there until about 1 PM.  We stayed home until we got a text at noon from our friend who was the wedding photographer.  She told us the groom was on his way and the bride was about 15 minutes away, so we safely beat both the groom and bride to the church.  When we pulled up to the church, we were still one of the first people there and were able to select some excellent seats from which to watch the proceedings.  As we sat and waited for things to get started, we attempted to carry on a conversation while shouting over the music blaring through the church’s sound system.  That’s another difference between African weddings and American ones: they’re extremely loud.

            While waiting for the groom to arrive, the minister of the Mbale Church of Christ got up and made his first speech of the day (I lost count of how many he made in all), and then encouraged someone in the congregation to lead us in praise songs.  One of the ladies of the congregation, Jennifer, started leading us in “This Is the Day That the Lord Has Made.”  We were doing just fine singing unaccompanied; however, in keeping with the African Loud Wedding theme, the man running the sound turned on a drum beat using the church’s keyboard…the tempo he selected was about 40 beats per minute faster than what we were singing.  We kept our original rhythm for awhile, completely at odds with the drum beat, until the guy turned on the keyboard and started playing some pre-recorded loop of music in a completely random key.  It was absolute musical chaos!  Jennifer was leading a call-and-answer song, and struggled to shout above the drum beat and random keyboard piece.  The congregation was shouting back to Jennifer over the keyboard blasting away through the sound system, and the guy in charge of sound was totally oblivious to the fact that the key we were singing and the key of the keyboard were completely at odds!  But everyone was having a great time!  One of the team members (a music major) made us all laugh by commenting we should all pray for the power to go out!  Eventually we started a new song that more or less fit the key of whatever was coming out of the sound system, and everyone had a great time clapping their hands and dancing around until the bride and groom finally arrived.

            The groom was escorted in by a mob of people, which I think was comprised of church and family members.  I took a short video of this part of the ceremony.  Everyone was just so happy!  The music was blaring, and people were free to clap and dance and ululate to their heart’s content!  It was much more animated than any wedding ceremony I’ve attended state-side.  The groom and his family were seated, more speeches were made, and eventually the bride arrived.  It took her about 15 minutes to actually make it from her vehicle to the front of the church building, mostly because she and her party had to perform a special “bridal walk,” which can be described as walking as slowly and as rhythmically as possible.  She was beautiful in a white gown with a long train that was constantly being adjusted and straightened out by her very attentive bridal attendant.  Once she finally made it to the front of the church, everyone was seated for another round of speeches, and then the minister delivered a short sermon and proceeded with the vows.  It took them a while to get out of the church building, and everyone went over the reception area for more speeches. 

I left before the actual reception was finished.  Here’s a timeline of how the wedding went:

10 AM: “start”

12 PM: Most mzungu arrive, some Africans already present

1 PM: Groom arrives

2 PM: Bride arrives

2:30 PM: Ceremony starts

3:00 PM: Vows completed, ceremony ends

4:00 PM: Bride and groom arrive at reception for more speeches

4:30 PM: Cutting of the cake

5:00 PM: Elise sneaks out because they’re still doing more speeches and gift giving, and she’s getting hungry.

All in all, it was a great afternoon.  Hooray for holy matrimony!

Lesson 10: Water Conservation as a Necessity

I believe this is my eleventh week in the Pearl of Africa.  We’re still in the dry season, although we are all eagerly anticipating the arrival of the rains.  Various people around town speculate that the rains will come late, which means a draught and bad news bears for everybody, especially the farmers here in Uganda.  The past week, many team members had problems with their water supply.  The houses here in Senior Quarters have water tanks filled by the main line, along with one or two taps directly linked to the main line. This makes it easy to check if you have water or not.  Lack of water is a pain.  You can’t wash your hands, you can’t take a shower, you can’t even flush your toilets without a significant amount of extra work.  When the water is off, you fill jerry cans full of water wherever you can get it.  For team members, that meant visiting our school house and filling their jerry cans at our outside tap.  The teacher house is at the bottom of a hill in Senior Quarters, so we enjoy a more dependable supply of water with better water pressure.  Our waterless team members can then ration out their jerry cans for cooking, handwashing, and toilet flushing.  Other families had water flowing through the main line, but didn’t have sufficient pressure for their water tanks to be filled.  This issue could be solved by hiring someone to climb the ladder to their water tank and fill it with jerry cans by hand, or by hiring the fire department to fill their tank for them.

Of course, the mzungus have it easy compared to many Ugandans.  While taking a piki to church for choir practice, I passed a woman balancing a 20-liter jerry can full of water on her head.  It was lacking a cap, so she had stuck a banana in the opening to prevent the precious liquid from sloshing out.  She had a small child strapped to her back, and was carrying a bag over her shoulder, slowly making her way up the hill.  It is incredible what I can take for granted, both in America and living here.  I expect water to flow out of my shower head at a certain rate and at a certain temperature; anything variance and my day is off to a bad start.  Living here and seeing the hardships all around me is definitely a humbling experience.

Lesson 9: Ding Dong, the Rat Is Dead!

Sunday morning started with me discovering a dead rat in our kitchen sink.  BLEAH.  I’m having difficulty finding the right words to describe just how horribly affronted I was that this unwelcome rodent had the audacity to crawl into our sink and die there…anyway, at least the thing is finally dead.  We have Natalie to thank for that one; she purchased a new rat poison by the name of “Rat Tears.”  The peanut butter flavor variety was highly effective, I suppose.

So about halfway through my visit here in Uganda, I finally got a chance to sit down with one of the team leaders for my cultural orientation.  In a way, it’s helpful to wait a while before experiencing this orientation.  This way, you get to observe and process things, and also hear other people’s stories.  These events suddenly make much more sense in the light of the information you glean during the orientation. 

After two months of living here, I thought I was starting to get the hang of how things worked.  I mean, obviously there are differences between an American and a Ugandan, but we’re still people.  Surely we have some common ground; the same physical need for food and water, the need to be loved and accepted, a desire to belong, etc.  About four minutes into the cultural orientation, my view of American/Western culture and East African culture was blown wide open. 

Let’s start with communication.  First of all, there are dozens of different languages spoken in Uganda.  Of all of these languages, I know about three useful phrases in Swahili, which is spoken more in Kenya than Uganda.  I was given a sheet with common phrases in six of the more commonly spoken languages here in Mbale.  Take a look at Luganda:

Wasuze otya, Ssebo? (How did you sleep, sir?)

Osiibye otya, Nyabo? (How is the day, madam?)

Nsanyuse okukulaba (I’m happy to see you)

            When I attempt to muddle my way through these greetings, it sounds something like “Waaaah-sooo-zay oat-yah, saaaaay-boh?” When I asked for some help from friends at choir practice, their greeting sounds like, “Wasoozotiasaybo?”  I don’t know where that “e” at the end of “wasuze” went, but apparently it’s not essential for a proper greeting.  This makes me very appreciative of all the Ugandans who have learned to speak English.

            Now, let’s talk about style of communication.  Think for just a minute of what makes a “good communicator” from a Western mindset.  I think of someone who can clearly state their opinion.  They don’t confuse their listener, and they are direct in their requests, sometimes taking great pains to ensure they are properly understood.  They are also succinct; I tend to be easily annoyed by individuals who talk and talk and talk and take too long to get to the point.  In African culture, direct communication is viewed as brash, rude, and detrimental to the relationship of the person you are communicating with.  All demands and requests are “hidden” in indirect communication.  Africans tend to talk around the subject at hand; it is the responsibility of the listener to decode the message and decipher the true meaning behind the speaker’s words.  Indirect communication may drive Westerners crazy, but for Africans, it is a high art form. 

            Part of the reason behind all this indirect communication is the different ways Westerners and Africans view relationships.  Westerners tend to value truth above relationships; we want to know the truth, no matter how bad it hurts.  Africans value the appearance of the relationship.  If the truth is going to upset a friend, they will lie to preserve that relationship.  For example, if a worker is raking leaves outside the house and accidentally breaks a window pane with the end of their rake.  If you storm outside and yell, “What did you do?!,” they will lie to you.  They think you are angry, and they don’t want you to be angry at them for what happened- that would damage the relationship.  Instead, they may tell you that a kid threw a rock at your window and broke it, but they chased them away.  To an African mind, telling the truth means upsetting you and threatening the status of your relationship.  They lie preserves the appearance of a happy relationship.

            Now think about how just these two differences affect communication between a Westerner and an African.  (And these are just two differences! There are so many more!)  The amount of lies and omitted information make it nearly impossible for the newbie missionary to fully understand what is going on.  You must constantly evaluate what “cultural lenses” you are using the view the situation, because they are most certainly going to be different from the cultural lenses of an African.  Even after just these two examples of culture differences, I hope you can begin to grasp what a difficult task working as a missionary here in Uganda can be.

            

On a lighter note, I’ve included a wonderful letter the teachers received from one of our youngest pupils.  Annalise wrote us a letter (delivered to us in the form of a paper airplane) during our Wednesday night devo after she had received her report card.  I guess she thought it would be appropriate for her to return the favor and report on the school  before her family took a few days off for vacation.   

Also, the additional picture is of the waterfall at the top of Mt. Wanale.  Emily and I climbed Wanale for the second time this week.  We climbed it in a much shorter span of time and were considerably less sore than after last week's hike!

Lesson 8: Climb Every Mountain



So, you know that cool mountain thing here in Mbale? Mt. Wanale? Yeah, I climbed that.  It was pretty awesome.  The not-so-awesome-part was waking up at 5:45 AM to get ready for our hike.  An early start time is very necessary, as this allowed us to ascend the mountain in the shade.  Otherwise, you’re climbing in the heat of the day on the equator. Not advisable. 

We followed a main road up quite a distance toward Mt. Wanale.  It was a little intimidating, marching towards this huge chunk of rock sticking seemingly straight up into the air.  There’s no switch-backing on the foot paths; you just go up.  The paths start sloping up gradually, so we stopped to take a breather on top of a large rock before the hiking got very intense.  Even from the base of Wanale, you can look west and see all of Mbale laid out before you.  The town of Mbale is at about 1161 meters (about 3700 feet); Mt. Wanale’s elevation is about 2320 meters (about 7300 feet). 

The paths go right by houses and through fields.  The people who live in these houses on the mountain are incredible.  While I was huffing and puffing to climb up the paths, they were passing me carrying huge loads of bananas or jackfruit balanced precariously on top of their heads.  Walking up the mountain is no problem for them.  Me…well, I was traveling “pole pole,” or “slowly, slowly” in Swahili.  No matter, I made it to the top, and we had a great time relaxing in the pools by the waterfalls in the shade of the eucalyptus trees.  We sat on a rock outcropping and took a bunch of pictures before beginning our descent.



I do not like coming back down.  When you’re going up, your goal is always in sight.  Even if you’re tired, you can pump yourself up by saying, “Every step I take brings me closer to the top!” Coming down means putting more distance between you and the awesomeness you just achieved.  Going up, you are not thinking about how far you could fall.  On the return trip, you’re constantly peering down the steep incline and pondering exactly how far down you could slide. Also, you encounter some interesting obstacles.

    This is a ladder.  It was made by cramming a bunch of sticks together in order to climb a twenty foot section of rock.  We climbed down slowly and nervously, one by one.  The Bugisu people climbed up two or three at a time, balancing matooke, sacks of onions and bundles of sticks on their heads. Very impressive to watch.

    The other fun part of the descent was sliding down paths covered by gravel and loose dirt.  Our approach was to sit down on our butts and alternate scootching and sliding down the paths, much to the amusement of the Bugisu onlookers. 

    Eventually we reached the bottom of the mountain and made it back home, where we enjoyed hot showers and a cold Coke.  A Friday morning well spent!



Lesson 7: Consider the Rats of the Kitchen

There is a rat in our kitchen.

It’s been hanging around for a while now.  One night I even heard it rustling around in my room, which resulted in the worst night of sleep EVER.  The next day, we didn’t have any poison on hand, so we made some of our own by crushing up some acetaminophen and mixing it with peanut butter, in hopes that the rat would consume enough of the drug to induce liver failure.  This was to no avail, as it’s still around as of this morning.



One night after an especially harrowing rat sighting, we decided to call in our askari (guard) Benard and ask him to catch it and kill it.  So Benard grabbed a pointy stick and proceeded to poke around in the kitchen, moving things around and searching for our unwelcome guest so he could impale it.  While Jennifer and Emily helped Benard search for the unwelcome rodent, I camped out in the living room, not really keen on watching what was going on.  After a few minutes of poking around, Benard gave up, saying that he was “failing the duty.” (I love Ugandan English.) We thanked him for trying, and expressed our desire that the stupid thing would just die.  This is when Benard gave a little impromptu sermon that went something like this:

You know in the Bible, it says “consider the lilies of the field” and “consider the birds of the air.”  These things, they do not work, but God, He provides for them.  Even this rat, it is not working, but you are to provide for it.

Although we appreciated his take on the situation and all had a good laugh together, we later replaced the acetaminophen-peanut butter mixture with actual rat poison.

The next morning, I traveled to Kitale, Kenya to visit the children’s home.  This was my first time crossing the border into Kenya.  If Jennifer and Linda hadn’t been there to tell me exactly what to do, I probably would have just drive right through it.  My favorite part of the border was standing in line with a bunch of Africans to get my Kenya visa.  Next to the window for the Department of Immigration was a box that read, “Suggestions, Compliments and Anti-Corruption Box.” 

Everyone else on the trip was going to do actual work; I was just along for the ride so I could play with the kids.  This made for a pretty enjoyable trip.  I even got a souvenir sunburn from Kenya to take home with me!  The kids were so sweet.  Eleven-year-old Josephine took my by the hand and gave me a grand tour of the 5+ acre compound, including a game of volleyball, basketball, and teaching me a few songs.  After a long day of work for everyone else, we had a fabulous dinner at Karibuni Lodge, which was concluded by some absolutely fabulous tiramisu.  A great time was had by all, and the peaceful election in Uganda allowed us to travel home safely on Sunday as planned.

    This is a picture of me and some of the girls at the children's home.  They did a great job of styling my hair, didn't they?



Lesson 6: How to Build a Church



This past Friday morning, I set my alarm to go off at 6:40, and in keeping with my morning habit of hitting the snooze more than I should, I was actually out the door for a run at around 7:15.  While I did not have to run through a herd of cows, I did pass a lot of children on their way to school.  Most smiled or acted shy, and some shouted “Mzungu, how are you?” as I ran past.  Today, I had a bunch of kids start running with me, which is new.  By the time we arrived at their school, I had 6 kids running behind me in their matching mint green school uniforms.

Once I got back home, I sat down to some breakfast and the Great Gatsby.  Jennifer let me know that Vince and Shawn were headed to the village in a few minutes and wondered if I’d like to come along.  Answer: of course! So I hopped in the shower and tagged along for the first viewing of an informative video on the ministries that the Mbale Mission Team supports in a town about 45 minutes from Mbale. 

Shawn Tyler is one of the team leaders of MMT, and was kind enough to teach me quite a lot during the village visit, especially about building construction, which I would now like to pass along to you!  When I first saw a church building out in the village, all I thought was “mud building with doors and glassless windows.”  After a little lesson from Shawn, I now understand that there is a lot more to buildings than that.

First off, the builders use poles cut from trees to make the framework for the walls of the building.  Then they make mud bricks from the surrounding area to set within the wooden poles.  When this first layer is finished, more mud is spread onto the bricks to fill in the cracks.  Then a third application of mud is used for the outer layer.  This mud is taken from a river, where the dirt is finer, and results in a smoother finish. 

The roof of this church was made of iron sheets, provided by New Testament Churches of Christ.  The advantage of iron roofs over grass roofs is they do not need to be replaced every four to six years like grass roofs.  However, they are a lot noisier during the rainy season.  There is a gap of about four to five inches between the roof and the wall; this is to allow the hot air inside the church to rise and leave the building, keeping the congregation much cooler.  Additionally, other vents can be built into the walls if necessary.  There were only two windows in this church, and they were small and high up on the walls.  This is both less expensive and more secure.  There are two doors into the church; one is at the back of the building, to be used by the congregation.  The other is on the side of the church near the front, for the church leaders, pastor, or special guests.  There were no doors on this building, just open doorways, so the location of the entrances are determined by the direction the rains come from.  Since the rain will come from the east (more or less), the congregation’s door faces west to keep the rain out.  The floor is made by mixing mud and cow manure and spreading it over the dirt floor.  While it’s rather smelly at first, over time it hardens and forms a sort of natural linoleum that can be swept up easily and prevents a perpetual dust cloud from residing within the building.

On Saturday, Emily and I took the opportunity to visit the Tyler’s compound to visit their new litter of puppies.  A grand time was had by all, especially the puppies who enjoyed chewing on whatever they could get their sharp little puppy-teeth on.  This weekend is our quarterly meeting, so there are multiple families from teams all over Uganda staying with us until Monday. In preparation for the dinner on Sunday, the teacher house grated 3 wheels of cheese and cooked six pounds of ground beef.  (That’s a lot of cow.)  We had a few friends over for dinner, and played some games in the dark, due to the lack of power.  The president was in town for a few days, and the power company was very careful about keeping the power on while he was here.  Now that he’s left…I doubt they care quite so much.

Anyway, now that we have power again, I can post this blog and show you a picture of the cool lizards we have here! Aren’t they awesome??? This one was probably about a foot long.  We also saw a dead snake that had been hacked to pieces that was over a meter long.  I didn’t take a picture of that.

 

This is a video of me playing with the kids in the village during the eyeglass clinic from a few weeks ago.  Bubbles are super fun, no matter what continent you're on!



Lesson 5: Uganda Grows Super-Onions

         

 So after a month here in Mbale, I’m starting to feel pretty comfortable.  I’m getting into a routine of setting my alarm really early, hitting snooze about three to four times, then rolling out of bed for my morning run.  It’s quite essential to run in the early morning, as it’s ridiculously hot here during the dry season.  So I do my 2ish mile loop of walking and running at about 7 AM.  My goal is to be back up to five miles of running by the end of my stay here and be ready for a 10k once I’m back in the states.  Of course, running here is quite different from running back home.  You share the road with bodas, pikis, cars, other pedestrians…and cows.  A few days ago I ran through the middle of a herd of 25 cows that were ambling along our road.  Not exactly a common occurrence in the States.

            I’m becoming more useful when it comes to planning meals and cooking, although I see no reason to bake anything sweet when our house-worker Irene produces such delicious banana bread.  I’ve learned to follow high altitude baking instructions, as when the air pressure decreases due to the 3800 ft elevation in Mbale, it takes less energy for water molecules to escape their liquid state and turn to water vapor, resulting in a drier baked product.  I’ve also discovered that the onions are much, much stronger here than any I’ve encountered at home.  Chopping for just under 20 seconds had me crying so hard I had to leave the house to get some fresh air.

            I’ve been to the village three times now; once for the eyeglass clinic, once for a funeral, and once to visit a local church on a Sunday.  I’ve eaten quite a lot of rice and beans, g-nut sauce and matooke, as well as goat, which is pretty good.  I’ve sat in on a Tuesday office meeting with the team, and helped our sweet bookkeeper Mary Beth with payday.  I’ve been to every single community Bible study so far, and actually led the discussion this Sunday night.  (I decided we should talk about friendship- this is the clip I showed at the beginning of our discussion. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_NmCh42hZM)  I’ve toured the Good News Productions International office, and this week I hope to sit in on the women’s sewing ministry and get a tour of CURE, which treats Ugandan children for hydrocephalus.  Next month I’ll be helping out with children’s worship at church and teaching a lesson on Jacob, and on Tuesday I’ll add another four students to my classes as the Proctor family returns from Texas to join the Mbale Mission School for the semester.  I guess you could say I’m keeping pretty busy!

            In my spare time, Emily has started to give me violin lessons, which is super tricky.  Now I understand why beginning string players sound so awful.  My hand starts to cramp up when I hold the bow for more than 30 seconds.  Once the container for the Northam family makes it through customs and gets to Mbale, (we’re praying it doesn’t get stuck there for a month) I plan on borrowing the trumpet inside the container and getting my chops back into shape.  I also like to sit around and read, which there’s plenty of titles to choose from in our MMS school library, including a bibliography on Charles Darwin, which I found particularly interesting.

            The photo is of Mt. Wanale, taken from across a field about a half mile from our house.



Lesson 4: Hello, My Name is Mzungu

Tomorrow marks my one-month anniversary of living in Uganda!  I’m happy to report that I love it here, although some parts are more enjoyable than others.  It’s pretty weird being one of the few white people, or mzungu, in the country.  To give you an idea of what it’s like, think about walking from your home to the downtown part of your city.  Imagine walking up and down all the streets.  If you’re lucky, you may see two or three other white people.  Maybe.  On the four hour drive from Kampala to Mbale, I saw one other white person.  It’s very different from anywhere that I’ve been before!

Because we mzungu are so few and far between, we get stared at a lot.  Or, if you go to the market, you receive a lot of attention from people selling things.  Most of the time, as you’re weaving your way through traffic and people’s wares, you’ll be accosted by frequent calls of “Mzungu! Mzungu!” to buy anything from shoes, to pots and pans, to padlocks.  Once, as Jennifer and I were making our way through the market, people guessed that we were from the US, from China, and from India.  What makes this even funnier is that Jennifer is blonde, has freckles, and super curly hair. China? I think not.

Mzungu are shown a great deal of respect here, which sometimes makes us Westerners feel pretty uncomfortable.  For example, during our visits to church out at the village, we are shown the place of honor, right at the front of the church where everyone can see our shining, bright-white faces.  I attended a funeral in the Bududa district with a friend as a cultural experience, and we were shown the places of honor- meaning the older women who were already sitting down near the casket stood up to give us their seat.  Women will also greet you by kneeling to shake your hand.  It’s a very humbling experience to be shown such a great deal of respect by women so much older and wiser than me, simply because I am white.  They live a life so different than mine, and so much more difficult.  I should be getting on my knees to greet them!

Greetings are a huge deal here!  To not greet someone is considered very rude.  The longer you spend greeting someone, the more polite you’re considered to be.  Asking them how they are is the bare minimum; asking about their health, their family, etc., is a nicer greeting.  Handshakes are important; two-handed greetings are more respectful than one-handed greetings.  For example, placing your left hand on your right arm as you shake someone’s hand is a good way to show respect, and waving hello with both hands is friendlier than waving with only one.  I’m getting used to coming to Sunday morning Bible class and shaking hands with everyone in the building!  Not exactly how we do things in the States, but I’m becoming a fan! It’s definitely helped me learn a lot of names.

Church service is similar to that in the states, but in more languages.  We sing songs in English, Swahili, Luganda, Lugisu, and I think in Atesso as well.  I don’t really understand a whole lot yet, but here is one of the songs we sing in Swahili:

Hakuna mungu kama wewe (3x)

Ee we mungu wangu

Na sema, “Asante!” (3x)

Ee we mungu wangu

Translation:

There is no God like you

Yes, you my God

I say, “Thank you!”

Yes, you my God

            Even the English here is different.  Ugandan English actually has its own Wikipedia entry (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ugandan_English).  Some important ones to remember: when giving directions, “turning” is replaced by “branching.”  Also, the word “trousers” is used instead of “pants,” as the latter means underwear.  This made for a hilariously awkward conversation between Jeanie and the tailor. Jeanie asked that her tunic be made a bit short, as she was going to wear pants under it.

            Of course, there are other things that just aren’t quite the same as they are back home.  For one thing, our power likes to go on and off as it pleases.  Our longest power outage since my arrival has been three days, enough to spoil all the food in our fridge and to induce the necessity of a few cold showers.  It’s not so bad though; we have dinner by candlelight and play Canasta.  The thing that drives me crazy about not having power is temporarily losing the ability to look stuff up online, like how much potassium is in a watermelon, the frequencies in Hertz of various music notes, or how to play the cello.

            Once the power came back on, I was able to access the necessary resources to teach science today.  We talked about the changing of the seasons, the tilt of the earth as it orbits the sun…and Groundhog Day!  Only two of the five kids in my science class had heard of Groundhog Day, which I could hardly believe.  We got out the globe, found the approximate location of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania and talked about how Phil would be crawling out of his hole in about four more hours (we’re ahead of Eastern time by 8 hours) and looking around for his shadow.  Then we took great care in creating our groundhog masks to celebrate this wonderful holiday.

A very Happy Groundhog Day from all of us at MMS!



Lesson 3: Eyeglasses + Bubbles - Millet Bread = Great Fun!



Today was my first day out in the village!  So far, I have only met people from town, or at the Mbale Church of Christ.  This morning I headed out to a village west of Mbale as a part of the eyeglasses ministry. With five of us in the cab, four more in the bed of the truck, some plastic chairs and two trunks full of eyeglasses, we all left from the church at 10 AM and drove about 45 minutes out to the village.  We were welcomed by our translators and were carefully observed by about 30 curious children.  After unloading our truck, we were given the place of honor at the front of the church, where everyone could see our shining, white faces, and were introduced to the congregation by William, who is in charge of the rural ministry portion of the Mbale Mission Team.  Everyone clapped and cheered for us, and we joined together in singing Luganda praise songs.  Though I couldn’t understand a word, I could appreciate the beautiful singing.  Later, five women who were a part of the church’s chorus sang another song about Jesus’ return and the end times, the melody of which I loved and have been humming to myself all day.  After this, William stood up and delivered an impromptu sermon, and worship was dismissed so that we could begin distributing eyeglasses.

After a quick lesson on eyeglass prescriptions (which I should have known already, seeing as I wear glasses) I was paired up with a translator and my first patient was sent in.  My instruments included two “glasses-on-a-stick,” which I was able to flip over and, with some assistance from my translator, determine which prescription produced the clearest results.  After encouraging the individual to read (or at least focus on) an article about a new BBC series entitled, “London From Above,” we would determine what strength prescription to hand out.  On the other side of the church, Peace, a wonderful Christian woman who works with the team and is our resident nurse, was helping far-sighted individuals receive the appropriate glasses.  Martin, who is in charge of the eyeglasses ministry, took inventory of how many glasses we had given out; today’s total was 140 pairs!

Helping people find the right pair of glasses was incredible.  Flipping through prescriptions and finally finding the pair that allowed them to see smiles that made translating unnecessary.  What we did today was by no means healing the blind, but to be able to provide these children of God with the ability to clearly see the world around them was such a joy!  It made me think of how Jesus healed the man born blind (John 9:6).  There was no mud made from saliva today; we try to keep things as sanitary as we can, but I hope when people share the story of how they got their glasses, many more will come know Christ.

After we helped those in need of reading glasses, I wandered outside to meet the dozens of kids milling around the building.  At first, they were very shy.  Only a few spoke English, and they didn’t really understand who this talkative mzungu (white person) was, or what she doing.  But after pulling out my bottle of bubbles, we got along just fine!  The kids crowded around me, all wanting to pop the bubbles as they floated loftily in the breeze.  I tried to give each kid a chance to try their hand at bubble blowing; even some of the adults gave it a try! 

I snapped a few pictures of the kids, handed the bottle of bubbles over to one of the older girls and went back inside for lunch.  We were served rice, goat, a sort of broth with tomatoes, and millet bread.  The rice, goat and broth were excellent; the millet bread was…interesting.  It’s more of a sticky, gelatinous mound of millet grain mixed with cassava (sort of like a potato) than bread.  I washed it down with a Coke.  After thanking our hosts for our delicious meal, we packed up our truck and drove back through the bush to town.  It was a perfect day, and I can’t wait to go out again next month!

The video is a snippet of worship service at the church in the village, and the pictures below are of the kids I befriended with bubbles, and Vince and his translator assisting a man find the right pair of glasses.