We bid farewell to our friends in Jinja Friday morning. It was difficult for me to return to the hustle and press of Kampala, to be separated again from Lionel (who I only was able to see for a few hours) and from our gracious Jinja hosts. There was much we wanted to do in Jinja but were not able due to lack of hours (for instance, the ladies wanted to put their feet in the Nile so the could say they were “in denial” in Africa). I comforted myself with the knowledge we would be worshiping in a house church this evening. I have done this in Kampala before and there is just no treat quite like it.
God had an alternate agenda.
Our driver was an hour late picking us up to go to Kampala, due to a sudden fuel shortage. He had to travel from station to station to find petrol. After fueling, our driver then went to a location in Jinja where we were not. After we finally made our way to the outskirts of Kampala, the clutch of his truck gave way and we were stuck on the side of the road. In the US we would call AAA and wait for 72 hours or so for a tow truck. In Kampala a man took pity on us sent a boda driver to fetch a mechanic and 15 minutes later a blue-clad fellow was poking around under the hood of the truck. He declared a terminal transmission problem (broken clutch plate) which sent our driver into denial. He called his normal mechanic in Jinja who, in turn, spoke to the mechanic in Kampala and it was decided that the Jinja man would make the 85 minute trip to personally diagnose the problem.
This was a stumble for us since we were now already two hours late getting to Kampala and our schedule was in peril. So I called our wonderful friend in Kampala and asked for him to come and get us. He was favorable to the idea, but his vehicle was also in the shop. He said he would retrieve the Land Cruiser and come pick us up. It took a long while, which would not have been an issue if it were not the first really hot day we had since last week. To make matters more interesting malaria medicine tends to make muzungu (white) skin more sensitive to the sun. Before our breakdown I was planning on being heckled about my still pale skin.
Not anymore!
By the time we returned to the guest house, changed clothes in order to be presentable for sharing the good news of God’s love in Jesus we were almost three hours behind schedule. The day was abnormally fair, however, so we took a trip up a local hill to take photos of the city. The promontory is located over a quarry. We visited briefly some of the workers who spend all day, early to late, making gravel by hand. These laborers make big rocks into little rocks by smashing with sledgehammers and chisels. It is the kind of work that hurts one’s heart to witness.
We returned to our vehicle, commencing the trip across town to a slum we planned on visiting once before but canceled due to a flooding rain. Our idea was to go from door to door sharing Jesus and then worshiping with the believers there.
The weather changed from hot and a little sticky to cooler and rain. It rained hard enough that it flooded. We waited at the entrance to the slum for about 45 minutes to see if the rain would let up enough to enter. It did not. No door to door, no house church. Bummed, we said goodbye to our guide, Pastor Benon, who is one of the most excellent people I have ever met and began the trip back across the city to join our Kampala support team for dinner. It was Friday night, it had rained thoroughly, we had approximately 7 miles to traverse.
The first few miles went well. Then we were in a jam. A colossal jam. This jam was so jammed, I got out of the vehicle, walked 1/2 mile to the local Foreign Exchange office, exchanged dollars for shillings, and walked back to the vehicle before it attained the next intersection. We waited at one traffic light (one of only four or five in the city of which I am aware) for at least 25 minutes. The younger ladies occupied themselves by seeing how cheaply they could purchase items from street vendors who walk in between jammed vehicles hawking everything from 100 meter tape measures to child size shoes to food. They were quite successful. Two hours later we arrived at our destination (only four miles or so away from the jam) and shared a fantastic meal with our Kampala hosts.
Our plan for today did not work, but it was still a good day to be in Uganda.
Thank you to those who gave us things to share. For the Bibles, the Jinja theological students say, thank you so much. For the shampoo and toothpaste and toothbrushes and lotions, the abandoned and the HIV/AIDS orphans say, thank you so much. For the skin lotions that are like gold here, the wives of pastors who work hard but have no resources to purchase such extravagance, they say, thank you so much. For the witnessing bracelets, your new sisters-in-Christ say, thank you. For those who faithfully prayed for us and for the people we shared life with this past week, we all say thank you so much and don’t quit.
Our itinerary is confirmed and the schedule is to put us at Washington Dulles 8:40a on Sunday, March 20 and into Cincinnati the same day at 12:53p. We would really, really like for that to be a reality and not just a plan!
I look forward to writing again Stateside.
Today I had the honor of accepting an invitation to preach at First Baptist Church Covington. My good friend, prayer partner, and (fellow bald man) the right Reverend Adam Crews extended the offer to lead this historic African-American congregation in their annual Holy Week observance. What a joy! I was deeply honored that so many from Main Street traveled to Covington to support their pastor and to worship with their family in Covington. What a great day.
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