Last Holla from Kampala

T minus 12 hours before I get on the plane to come back home. My last blog from Africa - So I guess this will be mostly reflecting.

The past month I have been busy working on construction documents and presentation boards for an orphanage. On the fourth of July we had the ground breaking ceremony which was a great way to spend the holiday since there wasn't going to be any fireworks. A group from Texas who helped with the fundraising for the orphanage came out for it and we camped at the site after the groundbreaking. We celebrated the fourth by having a campfire, waving American flags, and singing American songs loud enough to drown out bombs bursting in air.(The true American way - making sure you are the loudest group around)

Now time for some reflection

There was a question on my exit survey for EMI that asked 'How would you describe your experience in under three minutes?' I put 'It was great, hard, sucky, and wonderful.' That basically sums it up, but I will try to expand a little.

Looking back on a certain periods of our lives always reminds me of watching a trailer to a movie. All the high points are shown and the trailers are usually more exciting than watching the whole movie. I feel for some reason that all my time here should have been exciting and wonderful and could have all fit into a trailer, but the truth is that not every moment was incredible . There was downtime and plenty of moments where I just wanted to be comfortable and lazy. There are times that I have been taken advantage of, but I will fight to not let it harden my heart. I figure if I was in similar situation, or had half the problems many Africans had, I would probably be the same if not worse when it came to taking advantage of people. What is surprising is that some of the best cons were small children and old ladies. Crafty ones they are.

Looking at my pictures I have taken here, it turns out I mostly have pictures of construction site visits and buildings. For the things that truly have affected me, I don't have any photographs. I think that just as easily as a camera can capture a moment, it can also ruin it. Maybe photographs aren't necessary to see as vividly in my mind what I did at these times. It could have frozen a moment that should never be still, but stay a complete experience of the whole event.

There is a building near the office I worked at that was graffitied with the words 'They love Africa but not Africans.' Some days I felt like I was 'They.' Stepping on the soil of another continent doesn't automatically increase your capacity for love. Africa doesn't instill spirituality, or take you to new levels of compassion just because you are here . The hardest lesson learned. I now realize that it is our relationship with Jesus that will take us there.

Thank you everyone for all your prayers and support. I hope to see many of you soon. If you are keen to hear more about my time in Uganda, or to look at pictures of random African buildings and construction site visits, please give me a call and we can go for coffee or something.

First time caller, Long time listener

First of all, let me apologize that there are no pictures to go with this blog. I'm not much of a reader, so pictures go a long way for me. Please enjoy anyway.

There are 3 things you can count on when being white in Uganda. 1. You will get ripped off wherever you go(Unless you realize how much something should cost and it then becomes an enjoyable game of haggling.) 2. You will walk faster than everyone else, and 3. You will be invited to events or functions you have no business being at. There have been a couple of instances in the past few weeks that are perfect examples of this. The first one is that I was asked to speak on a radio show by someone I had just met, and the radio show was in a few hours. It would have been handy to know a couple of things before going on the air. The first would be the format of how the radio show should go and what would be expected of me. All I knew was that they would be talking about what it looks like to live like a Christian. The second bit of information that would have been helpful is that the radio show was not in English. Didn’t find that one out until we were on air. By the first sentence into the show I wanted to get up and walk out, but I was afraid I would have made too much noise gathering my stuff. I thought maybe I could leave at the first commercial break, but I knew that would be awkward as well because then they could stop me while no one was on air. They told me to not worry and that they would point to me when it was my turn to go on. The first commercial break ended, they talked for a bit in the local language and then pointed to me. I went with my speech I prepared as we were in the ‘green room’ waiting to go on air. I talked about Romans 12 and how we shouldn’t fit so comfortably into our culture that our lives look no different from everyone else and to do this we must fix our attention on God so that we can be transformed. They asked me one question, and my 5 minutes of fame which felt like 15 was done. I found it interesting that there were listeners that called in just like back home, and even though I had no idea what they were saying, I couldn't help but wonder if it went something like 'I'm a first time caller, long time listener. Why is there a Mzungu on this Radio program?' In the end I guess it wasn’t all for nothing. The next day the director of the ministry we are designing some buildings for asked me if it was me he heard on the radio. If I knew people I was working for were listening, I think I would have been better prepared. I go on air again the first week of July if anyone is interested. I’m not sure if it we will be streaming live on the net or not. I’m thinking probably not.

The second event I had no business being at was a wedding for people I didn’t really know. Now, I am not above crashing a wedding, and I have done it in the states, but you stand out a lot more when you’re one of the only white people at the wedding. Even though it wasn’t really a true ‘crash’ because I ran into the groom in town a couple of days before the wedding and that is when he invited me, it sure felt that way since I only somewhat knew him from church and I had no idea who his bride was or even what her name was. When I went to write them something in the card I was going to give them, I wasn’t sure if addressing it ‘To the both of you’ or ‘To Francis and his bride’ was appropriate. So I just wrote congrats. That didn’t solve the problem of writing the names on the envelope though, so I just brought a pen with me to the ceremony and wrote the brides name on the envelope after seeing what it was on the church bulletin. An interesting side note is that at the end of the ceremony when they are pronounced man and wife they don’t kiss, but just a simple hug seals the deal.

If there are any lessons to be learned in these two situations I guess one would be to be prepared in all seasons, and if not, just go with it. Also, I am convinced I will never stop asking myself in most situations, 'what the heck am I doing here?'

Feeling Better

Another Month has gone by and I haven't posted a new blog. Sorry about that. Let me start out by saying last week sucked. I was sick the whole week. When I get sick, it is definitely a production with a lot of groaning and complaining and everyone telling me that 'I'm not going to die, it's just a cold, suck it up,' but seriously last week I thought I was going to die. It started Sunday when I started getting a sore throat. Monday I went home in the middle of the day feeling a little tired, achey, and sore throat intesifying. Tuesday I spent most of the day in bed except for when I went to the doctor to see if I had strep. Diagnosis: no strep, just a little virus, suck it up. Wednesday I was feeling a little better so I went up to the project site(which is pictured below) and helped with a little site work. I was suppose to stay up there until Friday but I was up the whole night Wednesday with a migrane, body aches, fever, and sore throat. Thursday I headed back to town and did a self examination of my throat and it was definitely full blown strep. The project directors wife called her friend who is a nurse and told me what I needed to get, so I went to the pharmacy and got the drugs. No prescription necessary. Huh, a month without writing and that is what I have to talk about. Well that only fills two of three categories I hope to cover with each blog posting. I can check off mind numbing and irrelevant. Now I just need something that is mildly offensive. Here it is- I can't stand it when people are rude to people in the service industry, as well as when mzungus(white people) are rude to Ugandans. So, I told a Canadian who was being rude to some Ugandan wait staff at a restaurant that I like to refer to her country as America's hat. She was not happy. Mission accomplished.

Now on to some worthwhile happenings-

I have been reading 'Unveiling Islam' which is written by two former Muslim brothers who are now Christian. There are mosques all around Jinja, hence a lot of Muslims as well. Even the Mayor is Muslim. If there was ever a chance to speak with one of them, I wanted to know a little more about why they believe what they believe and I also wanted to be a little less ignorant. last Sunday before I became ill I went to the Jinja Hospital with some people from church and Jeremy(fellow intern) to pray for the patients. We went to the accident ward which was its own building. I wouldn't even know where to start to describe this place, but there is one room for the men and one room for the women. Each room has 10'x10' 'cubicles' that were separated by 4 foot high walls. Each cubicle had about 4 patients in it on a metal spring bed with an old mattress. Each patient had a few family members there, and some slept underneath the patient's bed. The hospital doesn't really provide food for the patients, so family members have to bring them food. If someone doesn't have family members there, the hospital will sometimes feed them. We actually went to a village after we left the hospital to look for the family of a young woman who was there alone. We smuggled in some food for her(if they found out mzungus brought her food they might stop feeding her completely because they think that she will be taken care of all the time.) Unfortunately we didn't find her family on that trip, but they eventually were found. The only staff member I saw in the hospital was a nurse who was as pleasant as a root canal, Lord bless her, because even though she had this hardened exterior, the fact that she was there helping these people without much other help or supplies was pretty incredible. To the hospitals credit, the stitches/burns/injuries and wound dressings all seemed to be surprisingly clean(maybe to a nurse or a doctor it would be a different story.) A lot of the accidents were motorcycle accidents and most people were passengers when a car hit the motorcycle they were on. There was one boy there who's arm had been amputated for other reasons though. He actually had cancer in his arm. His family was with him, and they showed us pictures of the boy with his arm before it was amputated. In the photo he was wearing Muslim clothes, and I was wondering if they would let us pray for them. The people we were with did most of the talking just to make it easier to not have to translate everything. They asked the family if we could pray for the boy. The family was very nice and seemed grateful to have us pray for him. Someone in the group asked me if I would pray for him, so I said yes, put my hand on my shoulder, and closed my eyes. Even though they had no idea what I was praying for(but it was mostly for the boy to experience Jesus as well as his family) I hope they could feel the difference between praying to God, who desperately wants to have a relationship with all of us, including this family, than to the god that they have been praying to. We went to another 'cubicle' and prayed for another man who was Muslim. He was very friendly and his wife and baby daughter were there as well. He was in a mutatu(minivan sized bus they use here for public transportation) accident where he was the lone survivor. He had the number 318 written on the wall beside his bed because he has been in the hospital for 3 months and 18 days. He was talking about his chance at a second life. These two experiences helped develop a new heart in me for people of the Muslim faith. It was great to see how open they were to us(which is not a mandate in their teachings). It is also funny how I happened to personally meet people of the Muslim faith so soon after starting a book about how to talk with them, but all I did was pray with them.

Kids are pretty neat when you don't think about how dirty they are

I know the title of this blog is horrible, but if you read on I think I can redeem myself. Last week Some of us from EMI volunteered to do some activities with a school that is on an Island in Lake Victoria. Getting to the island was half the fun. We got into a narrow wooden boat and they gave us life jackets to put on. Some of the life jackets still had the straps and buckles. Mine didn't so I mostly just wore mine for style, since it was early 90's looking with fluorescent colors. When we got to the island, we took the kids outside and did what we thought would be simple games, but instructions got a little skewed during translation and we basically just ended up having kids run around. Then at the end, the kids brought out drums and sang and danced. If it didn't take 3 months to upload video from here, I would love to put it on my blog.

On kind of a bummer of a note, the old duplex that Jeremy and I stayed at when we were in Kampala, and where one of the EMI volunteers(Christoph) still lives was broken into this week. It actually happened in the middle of the night when Christoph was home. They took a laptop that belonged to EMI, a cellphone, and Christoph's shoes. What kind of hurts is we always joked about how if our house was ever broken into, it would be by our sketchy guard. To break into one of the houses in the compound, the guard made a long pole by attaching his baton to a stick with a hook at the end and poked that through a window to pick up keys that were sitting on a table. He left the pole apparatus with his baton behind, which made Christoph 50% sure it was the guard.

Now for a more uplifting story, Today I visited an orphanage to get ideas for the one we will be working on. There was an orphan who was found in a pit latrine around Christmas named Emmanuel. When the orphanage first received him, they put him on antibiotics, but he was taken off too soon. His brain started to swell and the doctors thought he was going to have brain damage. The people at the orphanage continued to take care of him and pray for him. He is now a healthy baby without any brain damage. The doctors were surprised at his condition. It was a pretty incredible feeling to just watch him sleep and to see him be at such peace. Kind of makes you wonder what plans God must have for him.

Not a picture of Emmanuel, but still precious

Ninja In Jinja

My time here in the Kampala office is coming to a close(actually within minutes, I am trying to get this blog out before I leave). Jeremy and I will be heading off to Jinja to finish our time here in Uganda. Kampala has been good, and I will miss working with the others in the Kampala office, but I am looking forward to what the Lord has planned for me in Jinja.

Jeremy and I will be helping out an organization called Arise Africa International, and I am pretty sure I will be working on an orphange. I am not exactly sure what the living situation will be or many of the details just yet; maybe I will be living in the bush hunting for food and wearing nothing but a loin cloth!! I'll be sure to send pics.

For the past few weeks I have been busy trying to finish my part of the theological school we are designing. Then Last week a good buddy of mine came to visit and we were able to do some touring of Uganda. It was a nice mid-point break and we met some great people who were working for other NGO's which was encouraging.

There is a lot I would like to write, especially since I have been doing a lot of reflecting lately after realizing that I have hit the mid-point of my time here in Africa. I have done a lot of reading about the condition of Africa and why it continues to be consumed with problems, and I would like to share some of what I have learned/thought about later. Actually I might have a few minutes for some thoughts, actually more of a rant. I know my title says that there would probably be some rants in my blog, and Chad in the office has been disapointed that I haven't had any yet. I usually rant about non important stuff, but this rant will probably be a little heavy. So here it goes.

It is so easy to get discouraged/angry/saddened/overwhelmed when studying about Africa and I can't imagine how anyone could possibly come here without having the hope that God restores lives. I know that there is nothing I can do in my own strength to make a dent in Africa's problems. The leadership in Africa is plagued with power hungry corrupt leaders who stay in office too long. What can I do? It is also hard to be so close to a genocide and not be able to do anything about it. They built a museum for the Jewish hollocaust so that people will remember and so that it hopefully won't happen again. They did the same for Rwanda. And soon there will be another museum in Darfur. It isn't until its too late and the dust settles and the photos of mass graves are printed that we are appauled. The world will embrace the olympics which have been built by China and corporate sponsors giving money for oil/energy to Sudan's government which in turn buys weapons with this money for the militia that has killed/is killing hundreds of thousands of civilians. Participation in the Olympics will be glorified, and the world will be glued to their tv's this summer having Nike and Coca Cola advertizing the beauty of the world coming 'together' and how this can all happen by playing sports, wearing Nike, and drinking Coke. It seems like there is a bigger cause we can all come together for, but then again, the Olympics makes money.

Back home in Uganda(feels weird to say that)

For the past two weeks I was in Tanzania with a team to help design a master plan and a handful of buildings for a theological school and university. The school had some great people working for them and were a pleasure to get to know. One of the administrators was on Idi Amin's hit list during his reign and had to flee Uganda. He had a great outlook on life and had a great sense of humor. There were also volunteers from The States who came to help us with this project. There was Stew and Jess who are a young couple from Colorado and just plain great people, Willie who enjoyed every moment in Africa good or bad, Glenn who had great insight and enjoyed doing sudoku puzzles during down time, and Richael who was a straight shooter that never left you guessing where you stood with him. The team worked well together and we got a lot done in the short amount of time we had. It was actually pretty fun and by God's grace that 11 people could eat, work, and sleep in a four bedroom house for over a week working on a project. Living in community is great. I could probably write more about the specifics of the project, but if you are like me you skim blogs for the good stuff(or just look at the pictures.)
When we finished the final presentation we went on a safari at Ngorongoro Crater. It was alright I guess. Actually, it was pretty amazing. Ngorongoro crater is an old volcanic crater where the top collapsed and formed a huge opening. In the crater were lions, elephants, rhinos, hippos, zebras and a lot of other animals which I am sure are special in God's eyes, but weren't as seeked out for as the big ones. The next day we went to another park and saw baboons, monkeys, impalas and giraffe(s)(I am not sure if Giraffe is plural already) which are pretty fascinating. Seeing the great range of animals from the bizarre to the amazing, up close and some only a few feet away, as well as the trees and different landscapes, and then at night, staring up at the stars and seeing the milky way and constellations, I was thrown back by God's creation and in some odd way it deepened my appreciation of Him and life. It also made me envious of the incredible faith one must have to believe that all of the balance of the universe and complexity of life could have came from an explosion and a single celled organism. (Sorry, I had to make a sarcastic remark at my former beliefs created by public education and not questioning it. That's right kids, question authority. It is scary what you will believe when you don't.)

Now, quickly on to less controversial topics. One of my favorite memories of Tanzania would probably be the night before we had to leave. A few of us went to a local market for something to do. A student from the University that we worked on showed us around. The market went all through the village and we went down a maze of alley ways and ended up in market square pretty far into the village. It was nice not to be in a tourist trap and instead get a real feel of African life. At the market I bought some sandals that the Maasai people wear(RE:picture above to get an idea of who the Maasai are.) The sandals are made of used tires, which I guess are eco-friendly and good for the earth, but they sure are hell on my feet. A lot of the people in the market got a kick out of seeing me with these sandals on. One Maasai came up to me and pointed to my sandals and gave me a nod of approval. I mentioned to him that I liked the bracelet he had on his ankle(i guess that would be an anklet) so he offered to sell it to me. I don't know if it was a legitimate offer, or if he was being nice, but it was a fair price. It's interesting to think of how many miles this anklet has traveled by foot on the Maasai and how those travels are now brought to a screeching halt since I sit at a desk most days.

Below are more photos from the safari.... if you can't read the van it says

'pimp my ride' and 'Go to church.'
Hillarious

Architecture 101

This week I was asked to speak to an art class at an international school about architecture. I don't know who I have more respect for, teachers who teach inner city kids, or teachers who teach missionary kids. It wasn't that bad and to be fair, I was told that 99% of the kids at that school aren't as out of control, and I must have just had a rambunctious class. My instructions from a fellow intern was that I would need to give a little talk about how architecture and art are related, and how one becomes an architect. I thought to myself that this would be fun and I wouldn't really need to do any prep work to talk about that stuff. So I got up in front of the class and the teacher asked me to tell the kids about the history of architecture beginning with the pyramids. I don't remember if I asked out loud or in my head if she was kidding me, but I think the look I gave her said enough. To start I told the kids that the Pyramids were built in 1984 for the Olympics and is considered by many to be Frank Lloyd Wrights finest work. No I didn't really say that, but I may or may not have made up a bunch of stuff almost as absurd to fill the time allotted. Even though I will probably never be asked to be a guest speaker at that school again, I actually did have fun.

Just a Random Photo that has nothing to do with my blog.

Earlier in the week I went on a site visit with the director of eMi East Africa(Chad) and a civil engineer Intern(Heather). We were looking at a piece of property for a ministry that wants to develop a theological school, as well as a primary and secondary school for the community. It was pretty deep in the middle of no where, and we passed a lot of mud huts and small brick homes. As we passed by a mother and her two children just outside their home, Shannon, who is the person we are working with from the ministry, went up and talked them. He noticed one of the kids who was a little girl about 4 years old had some type of cloth in her ear that was there to catch drainage coming from her ear. Shannon, with the help of a translator asked If he could take the girl to a doctor and he would bring her back in couple of days when he comes back to the site. The mother was very thankful and gladly let her child go with a bunch of white folk back to the city. The little girls brother also came along. I was thrown back seeing someone take a child and get them the help they need(as well as a mother letting their children go with complete strangers). If it was just me, I probably would have just waved and passed by this family and would have never noticed that this little girl needed help. It was absolutely convicting and I hope to learn to not be afraid to go up and at least greet people instead of just waving and walking by and thinking I was doing my part. It definitely brought home the parable about the Samaritan who helped the man in trouble and the priest and Levite who both avoided him and went to the other side of the road to pass him. It's kind of hard to judge them for walking on by now.

By the way- the internet is running super slow and I can't do spell check or spell many words, so sorry for any errors.