Stomped-Day 5

I have been kept away from the blog for a long time, unable to get to this day, day 5.  It was the most important time I spent in Uganda.  I am by nature an extremely private person.  I am forced to be transparent by my responsibility to be a teacher of God’s Word (both in action and speech) but I still keep certain places very close to my heart and I share those spaces only when forced or when privacy is simply not attainable.  I don’t have “secrets” per se, but having lived in a “glass house” now for nearly fourteen years, I am even more protective of those places in my life where access is either limited or denied.

I have already spoken of Isaac.  We have been separated by my responsibilities in country now for several days, but this day we set aside to spend together and for me to meet Penninah and Lionnel.  I was both excited for and dreading this day.  I am a inherently skeptical person, who also is insufferably given to think the best of people.  The two incongruous personality traits create almost a constant war within.  I so wanted Isaac to be “for real” and yet a incessant nagging of “this is all a big scam” kept my insides upside down.  We had a little difficulty meeting up with Isaac, but in the end we climbed into Richard’s car and made the trek to Jinja.

Mark and Isaac and I had plenty of time to talk along the way, so I asked as many questions as I could about his life, the culture, industry…everything.  The day was warm and the car loud, so conversation was more difficult especially since Isaac’s vocabulary is not yet extensive.  Isaac was kind enough to point out landmarks on the way and let us know what was growing alongside the road.

The land was verdant, the farms were extensive and the people were few.  We drove through a couple of “towns” but it was mostly just rolling hills of sugar cane and matooki plants.

A Good Snapshot of the Terrain Between Kampala and Jinja

A Good Snapshot of the Terrain Between Kampala and Jinja

The closer we got to Jinja the more apprehensive I became.  Jinja is a much different kind of town than Kampala.  It is much more orderly, and gives more of the appearance of an old American “country town,” maybe somewhere off of route 66 (like Tucumcari, for instance).  Isaac’s home, was very much home to me even though I was a “first timer.”

A Typical Street in Jinja

A Typical Street in Jinja

We negotiated the sidestreet to the place he had rented for his family.  It took a few minutes longer than it should to get to the place due to a chicken crossing the road along with its newly hatched chicks (I am NOT making this up).  Isaac’s place was one room with two beds, an electric hot plate and a small anteroom with a porcelin tub, commode and sink.  VERY nice by Ugandan standards.

Pretty much the whole place...Lionnel on his bed

Pretty much the whole place...Lionnel on his bed

Lionnel and Penninah were both there and excited to see us.  It was surreal.  They had nothing really to show me, but they wanted me to see everything.  I distributed the gifts I had brought along with the gifts that my friends Tami and Nancy had sent and we had Christmas in May.

Lionnel showed me how he makes beads using strips of paper and Isaac explained the process they go through to go from concept to finished product.  A couple of day’s work making necklaces would yield for them $10US at best.  Lionnel is the strong silent type and just sat quietly as “Penny” prattled on about things and showed me all her “glamour pics” she had made while she was still in school.  I was overwhelmed.

Part of the day was devoted to helping Isaac plan out his finances, so I decided I would take Lionnel and Penny out to lunch and then buy them some new shoes (the ones I had brought with me were too small).  We went back into town and ate and then went to Bata to purchase some shoes.  They kept thanking me again and again for these simple gifts.

We went back to the place and Mark and Isaac went to lunch.  I told Mark to order the fish since my chicken tasted like fish anyway.  Mark took a picture of his lunch.  Needless to say that he didn’t prefer to order it again and I don’t think he will trust me about food anytime soon.

A Good Reason Why Mark Won't Trust Me Again

A Good Reason Why Mark Won't Trust Me Again!

The day was much too short.  We had to be back into Kampala at a reasonable time for our driver, and so we gathered around in a circle.  I “adopted” Isaac, Penninah and Lionnel with Mark and Richard as witnesses.  We all cried and Isaac prayed to God and offered thanks for being “lifted from the dust and given a family.” We prayed some more and then loaded back into the car.  It was the most difficult moment of the entire trip.

We travelled from Jinja a little further north to Isaac’s family plot of land.

Mark and Isaac at Isaac's Homestead

Mark and Isaac at Isaac

He owns about a half acre and leases it free of charge to a family that resides adjacent to the land he owns.  We got to see the Nile and took pictures courtesy of a very nice army official who waived the rules when he found out I was a pastor (long story).

The Nile from above the Jinja Rapids

The Nile from above the Jinja Rapids

We arrived back to Emmaus house after dark and I finished my day trying to deal with the sorrow in my heart over having to leave my “kids” in Uganda.  I want so much for them to come and live with my family here, but they would leave as much as they could gain and since they are older (16, 18, 23) the complications of getting visas will be immense.  I still seek God’s will concerning this as I miss them tremendously and just am not sure as to what is best for them.

Lionnel, Isaac, Penninah

Lionnel, Isaac, Penninah

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Another Visual Work

I hate it that I am not able to share more of my own experience with you.  The press of my daily responsibilities suck the life out of my ability to write.  I am so excited to share about my own three children in Uganda and actually wrote a lengthy post that was trashed during a computer crash.

So until I can get it together, enjoy this video produced by a young lady who visited Uganda and who, like me, carries the experience deep in her heart.

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What Happens When A Christian Dies?

I finally tackled this important, but difficult question. Click on the “God Questions” tab to review (and comment) on my response.

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Another Testament

A friend gave me this video.  It is very well done and serves as another voice of experience.  The trip to Uganda continues to flood me with waves of desire to do better living.  God paid my sin debt with His absolute best. I cannot but expend my life, such as it is, poured out in gratitude for His great gift and indwelling power.

Listen…even as you watch.

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Stomped-Day 4

Monday came and Mark and I were now acclimated to being in Uganda.  Although it wasn’t like being at home, we were doing just fine and woke excited for the day.  Mark demonstrated his character and giving heart (once again) by making his first task of the day to give Ugandan Bibles to Livingston(e), our table servant at Emmaus House.  Livingston(e) had recently come to faith in Christ and was hosting a small house group Bible study and needed God’s word to share with those who also came.

We had a driver and free time before we had to report to our first church so we went to the closest thing we could find to a “tourist trap” in Kampala.

Actually the preferred delivery system in Kampala!

Actually the preferred delivery system in Kampala!

We wandered the often narrow alleyways and purchased items from those who made them as often as we could.

I purchased my only “Ugandan” shirt from a young lady who happened to be a follower of Jesus Christ.  It was so humbling to “buy direct.”  This woman, probably in her early twenties sat at her sewing machine in a closet-sized shop just waiting for folk to negotiate the labyrinth of passageways to “happen upon” her.  As a former retailer, I never stopped being amazed how folk could survive while breaking EVERY rule of basic retailing business.  The teacher in me wanted to cry out at the top of my lungs, “Hold on a minute, let’s talk business here!  If you want people to purchase your things…” But I kept my mouth shut and just enjoyed the experience.

The experience, by the way, included a trip down to Lake Victoria.  We traveled to the Port Bell, home of the famous “Port Bell” line of alcoholic beverages and entry point for fisherman coming off the lake.

A video would have shown the flies and heated argument over price

A video would have shown the flies and heated argument over price

The lake was beautiful but the “fish market” a real USDA, OSHA, FDA, FBI, CIA etc. nightmare.  At least everyone was dressed nicely, including the woman wearing the sequined ballroom gown (no picture, we didn’t want to be that rude) while she cleaned this enormous fish.  Surreal is a major understatement.  We walked about a quarter mile to the clothing import/export shop and JC Penny.

Entrance to the local "JC Penny"

Entrance to the local "JC Penny"

I have never seen so many clothes in one place in my life.  Clothing from Western countries is literally baled up into 6′ x 4′ cubes and shipped to Port Bell. There it is sorted, spread out on the ground, hung up on all sorts of structure and mixed with never-been-worn items.

During our travels this day we attempted to share the gospel with our driver, Richard.  He was a very nice man and actually had (we soon would discover) a very nice car by Ugandan standards, 1995 Toyota Corolla, with leather seats straight from Japan.  He spoke passable English and passable Ugandan.  The passable Ugandan ended up causing us to take an unscheduled trip to the Kasubi tombs where the former kings of Uganda are interred.  It is a long story; suffice it to say that Ugandans don’t always understand each other very well either.

Entrance to Kasumi Tombs

Entrance to Kasubi Tombs

Definitely (the only?) major tourist trap in greater Kampala, we got to hear the history of Uganda from a “British” point of view at Kasubi Tombs.  The whole story is worth telling, but I will enter but one excerpt.  One of the former kings thought that his kingdom should be the only one in Uganda.  He actively persecuted Christians because they proclaimed the kingdom of God and his son Jesus.  When informed that the kingdom of God was in heaven and in the hearts of man, the king responded by killing Christians so that they could be part of the kingdom they proclaimed.  He said something to the effect of, “You can only have one king, since yours is in heaven, you can join him there.”  Truth may be found in many places…

After many hours, we finally reached our intended destination, a house church in a fairly nice neighborhood.  The home was upper middle class because it had walls and ceilings, doors and windows, a indoor toilet, and four rooms (including the toilet room).  We worshiped with abandon for about 45 minutes.  After that, Mark shared his testimony.  I taught again from Genesis how God remembers even those who have nothing, He does not forget them, even in their troubles.  This group was more familiar with the stories of the Bible and connected well with the theme of God’s remembrance as the story unfolded from Noah to the Exodus.  Before we left, Mark opened his bag of goodies and made friends with the many children in attendance.

The evening ended in a gourmet meal prepared by Anthony and Misti’s housekeeper.  Steamed chicken in banana leaf, sweet potato, white potato, matooke (crushed plantains), beans, rice, fresh mangos and pineapple.  It was way too much!  We talked well into the evening, learning more about the work Anthony and Misti were about.  They allowed us to email/text home and we ended our day back at Emmaus House.

The following picture is a good commentary on the industrial development of Uganda:

The only FedEx truck we saw all week!

The only FedEx truck we saw all week!

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Stomped-Day 3

Sunday had arrived. Mark and I were ready to go early but had to wait for our ride until about 10:30am. We ate breakfast at the Emmaus house. The food was very good, simple menus like homemade bread, eggs, a little fruit, but it was a great way to begin a day. We took pictures and explored as much as we could while keeping our white dress shirts and ties clean (red dust EVERYWHERE). I felt like such a Mormon in my “Sunday attire” wearing my backpack…I just needed a name tag.

We made the trek to a church gathering that had a building they had built on leased land. This location was in the courtyard of a school that had gone bankrupt. Like so many places we would visit, the church was right in the middle of a “slum” area. The “road” into the slum was worthy of the 4 wheel drive that was Anthony and Misti’s transport, and the “houses” were nearly beyond description. The photo below represents a “nice” church building not only because it had a high roof that abated the heat a little bit, but also had a men’s AND women’s pit latrine out back.

Courtyard of a bankrupt school

Courtyard of a bankrupt school

We don’t have any pictures of the inside of the building, but you can see the general structure and construction here. Inside we sat either on rough wooden benches or plastic outdoor chairs like K-Mart /Wal-Mart sells in the summertime.

The outside of a "nice" church building

The outside of a "nice" church building

We worshiped in song for about 1 hour. A group of three women were the primary worship leaders. We sang some songs we knew and learned others simply from the repetition of the same phrase. The church had “special” music groups to sing. Like in the US, some small congregations have people who want to be “up front” who God has not gifted in that manner but in their hearts want to give praise to God…we got to see a little of that this day.

Mark gave his testimony (and did a fabulous job…again) and I shared from Genesis beginning at 8.1 how God remembers people, even when they think they are forgotten. I used a “Noah’s Ark” rug I purchased while on a mission trip in Turkey as a visual reference. I think I may have lost some of those who attended, but God uses even the worst presenters to love and teach His children. While I was teaching it began to rain softly and I was standing under a leak which made the teach-translate-dodge water drop cycle almost comical. After I taught for about 25 minutes (including translation) a torrential rain hit and the Pastor/translator could no longer be heard about the roar of rain on an uninsulated metal roof. He did not stop, however. He summarized all I had taught (in English and so he, in turn, was translated by another church member) and then gave an invitation and then did about 20 minutes of announcements. All in all it was about a two hour thirty minute experience. It was hot, very smelly and completely (except for the announcements) wonderful.

This was our second two hour plus worship experience in 24 hours and we were convinced that we were on holy ground. The people with whom we worshiped had little more than the clothes on their backs. Some had endured severe persecution related to following Christ and yet their joy overflowed. When the offering time came, the congregation came forward out of their chairs and deposited their tithes (in one basket) and their offerings (in another basket). From even their extreme poverty they gave. I felt unworthy of their companionship, yet they received us with a hearty welcome of honor and there was never a hint of jealousy over us (we who have more than they can even imagine, I kid you not).

Mark passed out candy after the service to the children who would kneel politely as they took the treat from his hand and then they would see if they could “get back in line” for another piece. Mark left a couple of bags for the “Sunday School” teacher to hand out when she had the children again on Tuesday for study of the Bible.

Anthony and Misti took us back to Garden City for dinner. We ate at an Australian-owned restaurant called “Spur” that had an American Indian folklore back story and decor. It was really a Twilight Zone experience. The food was ok at best; both Mark and I wanted to try out more Ugandan fare and the menu at Spur had to rival the breadth of The Cheesecake Factory’s, but was all Western or Asian food.

We enjoyed the companionship of our host family, however, and the afternoon/early evening was quickly gone.

Anthony and Misti allowed us to come and hang out at their place again for awhile, and to send emails (just as slow as the first time) and then they took us back up to the Emmaus house. Although we both were very tired, we made sure to stay up to a little past 10:30pm. We read books, met other Emmaus house guests, used the even slower internet at the Emmaus house and saw the time fly by.

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