Wednesday, September 29, 2010
This photo is, believe it or not, fairly candid. We were all cracking up at the one we'd just taken, in which we were making some epicly hilarious faces. Since they wouldn't appreciate me putting that one up, I figured a happy smiling shot was safe.
My two little friends...James on the left, Faith on the right. I honestly can't tell if James hates being tickled or loves it.
Off to the clinic.
Today as I made my daily trek down to the clinic, I realized something. As the sun beat down and the wind off of Mount Kadam whipped my skirt around my legs, I noticed that something was different. As I stepped into the icy water of the culvert and walked on dry rocks that for the past months had been entirely submerged, it definitely seemed like it had really come. Maybe not entirely, but it's close.
Yep. Dry season.
Yep. Dry season.
Friday, September 24, 2010
I am currently reading a very interesting book all about the problems with the Western world's relationship with "Africa". Aside from some geographical difficulties (referring to the region of problem as "Africa", when in fact, he seems to be dealing largely with the issues in East and South Africa), the book is, so far, very good. I've zizzed through a lot of it - partially because I know all the pre-argument facts, and partially because it makes me very sad to read all of those miserable statistics. People are dying, getting sick, and living in poverty. I've seen it with my own eyes and don't want to dwell on it any more than is necessary.
This book, however, falls in nicely with my readings in the book of Ephesians. In that particular letter, the writer, Paul, is primarily concerned with unity in the church - especially between Gentiles and Jews. He encourages them to treat all as equals, that Christ breaks all man-made barriers, and that we are called to love.
A big problem that I have observed living here in Uganda (not in "Africa") is divisions. Tribalism is a big problem. I was recently told that there are 42 recognised languages in Uganda - that's at least 42 tribes. Within those tribes are clans. Within those clans are families. Within those families are individuals that are feuding and distrustful of eachother. So many divisions! So many reasons to dislike and fight with eachother. In the book I'm reading, it said, "It is thought that Uganda, a smallish country of around 25 million people, could still probably feed the whole of Africa if commercially farmed." (Giles Bolton, Africa Doesn't Matter) That sentence, besides making me think "What does he mean by 'Africa'?" and "Yeah! Represent!!!!" also made me wonder how much potential this "smallish", wonderful little pearl could do if united.
But what does it say in Ephesians? "For he Himself (Christ) is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility...and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility." (ch.2, vs. 12-16) In Christ we are FREE of all of those barriers - those petty restraints. As a church, we are ONE. We are a whole body, the bride of Christ.
So how does this play out in a place where there are so many walls between people? Walls that have been built up over years and years of feuding? Walls that separate people that may have never heard the gospel? How do we build a church out of the broken-up people?
As foreigners/mzungus, we are so far outside of all the local "divisions" that we all just get clumped together in a pile labeled "white people". That can be a real asset. We're just some rich people from a place far, far away. We aren't really a part of the tribalistic structure - we have a category all our own.
For instance, one of my father's employees started a savings account with my mother. He is, as far as I know, entirely uneducated, and had very little scope of the actual amount he had saved. He would bring his little bit every so often, and my mother would keep a close record of how much that was. Why did he trust her? How did he know that she wouldn't sneak off some of his money on the side? Is there a chance that, in representing Christ, we mzungus are considered trustworthy?
I really hope so. Please pray for unity among the tribes here, and that our witness would shine out here - that our differences would be a help to our ministry and not a source of estrangement. May the church be ONE!
This book, however, falls in nicely with my readings in the book of Ephesians. In that particular letter, the writer, Paul, is primarily concerned with unity in the church - especially between Gentiles and Jews. He encourages them to treat all as equals, that Christ breaks all man-made barriers, and that we are called to love.
A big problem that I have observed living here in Uganda (not in "Africa") is divisions. Tribalism is a big problem. I was recently told that there are 42 recognised languages in Uganda - that's at least 42 tribes. Within those tribes are clans. Within those clans are families. Within those families are individuals that are feuding and distrustful of eachother. So many divisions! So many reasons to dislike and fight with eachother. In the book I'm reading, it said, "It is thought that Uganda, a smallish country of around 25 million people, could still probably feed the whole of Africa if commercially farmed." (Giles Bolton, Africa Doesn't Matter) That sentence, besides making me think "What does he mean by 'Africa'?" and "Yeah! Represent!!!!" also made me wonder how much potential this "smallish", wonderful little pearl could do if united.
But what does it say in Ephesians? "For he Himself (Christ) is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility...and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility." (ch.2, vs. 12-16) In Christ we are FREE of all of those barriers - those petty restraints. As a church, we are ONE. We are a whole body, the bride of Christ.
So how does this play out in a place where there are so many walls between people? Walls that have been built up over years and years of feuding? Walls that separate people that may have never heard the gospel? How do we build a church out of the broken-up people?
As foreigners/mzungus, we are so far outside of all the local "divisions" that we all just get clumped together in a pile labeled "white people". That can be a real asset. We're just some rich people from a place far, far away. We aren't really a part of the tribalistic structure - we have a category all our own.
For instance, one of my father's employees started a savings account with my mother. He is, as far as I know, entirely uneducated, and had very little scope of the actual amount he had saved. He would bring his little bit every so often, and my mother would keep a close record of how much that was. Why did he trust her? How did he know that she wouldn't sneak off some of his money on the side? Is there a chance that, in representing Christ, we mzungus are considered trustworthy?
I really hope so. Please pray for unity among the tribes here, and that our witness would shine out here - that our differences would be a help to our ministry and not a source of estrangement. May the church be ONE!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Old days
Smile.
Simple innocences
Whisper like grass-stems
Breaking
Crunchy leaves snap
Like fingers to a beat.
Dancing on hardwood floors
(Clunk-clunk)
Sliding with socks
On hand and foot
Boom
Hit the wall
Beatbreaker,
Soundmaker,
Slap!
Fighting, scratching,
Musicking the waves,
of half step, treble cleff.
Smile.
Simple innocences
Whisper like grass-stems
Breaking
Crunchy leaves snap
Like fingers to a beat.
Dancing on hardwood floors
(Clunk-clunk)
Sliding with socks
On hand and foot
Boom
Hit the wall
Beatbreaker,
Soundmaker,
Slap!
Fighting, scratching,
Musicking the waves,
of half step, treble cleff.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Ten-and-eight. Yep, that's me. Eighteen. When I was little, I wanted to be eighteen. When I was a preteen, I wanted to be eighteen. Yesterday, I wanted to be eighteen. And now I am.
So far, I've celebrated by
- eating scrambled eggs with maple syrup
- wearing a headband that I like
- getting a really cool necklace. Really.
- getting a really cool mug.
- making really good soup.
- running around in the rain in heels. (anna's heels, incidentally.)
- going through my 2007 - 08 scrapbook
- drinking real coffee. Twice.
- teaching Faith and James. I do that pretty much every day, but it was still pretty celebratory
- carrying a bag of maize across the overflowed culvert
- eating roasted maize on the way home from the clinic
- singing "The Gambler" at the TOP of my lungs on the way home
So far, so good. A lot of random things that were just kind of extra-fun. I do most of them every day, or at least once a week.
I've been told many times that being ridiculously excited about getting older is a passing phase. But guess what? Next year I'm going to be NINEteen. Even better.
So far, I've celebrated by
- eating scrambled eggs with maple syrup
- wearing a headband that I like
- getting a really cool necklace. Really.
- getting a really cool mug.
- making really good soup.
- running around in the rain in heels. (anna's heels, incidentally.)
- going through my 2007 - 08 scrapbook
- drinking real coffee. Twice.
- teaching Faith and James. I do that pretty much every day, but it was still pretty celebratory
- carrying a bag of maize across the overflowed culvert
- eating roasted maize on the way home from the clinic
- singing "The Gambler" at the TOP of my lungs on the way home
So far, so good. A lot of random things that were just kind of extra-fun. I do most of them every day, or at least once a week.
I've been told many times that being ridiculously excited about getting older is a passing phase. But guess what? Next year I'm going to be NINEteen. Even better.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The one legged chicken is named Trixie.
That fact is funny enough in itself. The actual bird is a subject of immense hilarity. It hops along on one scrawny claw, it's other leg stub flapping uselessly as if the departed leg was still joined with it. Apparently 'Trixie' is the generally accepted name, 'Mary' being the second choice.
When I first met Trixie, she was hopping into the banda where I was teaching, squawking horribly. She managed to get stuck under the cabinet as we tried to chase her out, and had to be pulled out. We set her free and laughed until we cried at her funny little hops. I leaned against the doorframe, cracking up entirely at the poor crippled bird.
She went something like this: Hop. Squawk. Fall over. Scramble to feet- or rather, foot. Hop-hop. Flip out for no apparent reason and go hopping across the yard. Fall flat on beak.
A girl walked out of a nearby banda and stared at me in shock as I chuckled helplessly. She looked at the chicken and said to me in utter disgust, "See how it suffers."
Now, I'm not really sure how it could be in much torment. It just hops around and occasionally goes berserk, just like the other chickens. My laughter ceased, however, when I noticed that she was serious. The girl looked up at me, indignantly furious. "You can really see how God punishes."
I gave it up after that and went back to class. That poor chicken, to be under such judgement.
That fact is funny enough in itself. The actual bird is a subject of immense hilarity. It hops along on one scrawny claw, it's other leg stub flapping uselessly as if the departed leg was still joined with it. Apparently 'Trixie' is the generally accepted name, 'Mary' being the second choice.
When I first met Trixie, she was hopping into the banda where I was teaching, squawking horribly. She managed to get stuck under the cabinet as we tried to chase her out, and had to be pulled out. We set her free and laughed until we cried at her funny little hops. I leaned against the doorframe, cracking up entirely at the poor crippled bird.
She went something like this: Hop. Squawk. Fall over. Scramble to feet- or rather, foot. Hop-hop. Flip out for no apparent reason and go hopping across the yard. Fall flat on beak.
A girl walked out of a nearby banda and stared at me in shock as I chuckled helplessly. She looked at the chicken and said to me in utter disgust, "See how it suffers."
Now, I'm not really sure how it could be in much torment. It just hops around and occasionally goes berserk, just like the other chickens. My laughter ceased, however, when I noticed that she was serious. The girl looked up at me, indignantly furious. "You can really see how God punishes."
I gave it up after that and went back to class. That poor chicken, to be under such judgement.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Little James turned three on Saturday, an event that was celebrated quietly at the house of Elisabeth and Kyalo on Saturday night. I dressed up a bit, figuring the gesture would be appreciated, and trudged through the mud and water down to the clinic.
I had been told dinner was at six, so I came early at six thirty to help with the setup. My outfit was duly admired and appreciated - by wearing nice clothes I was showing that I thought this was a special event. At seven, Kyalo sent Faith to get the other guests. They all came piling in and immediately segregated - men at the table, women on the benches by the wall. Kyalo offered thanks and we started up the buffet of chicken, rice, chapati, matooke, and beans (with eggplant!). According to custom, we ate as much as we possibly could - going into Unfillable Stomach mode. This wasn't hard, as Elisabeth's cooking is absolutely heavenly. Whoever says that African food is bland is sadly wrong. I decided to calm down after fourths.
A wonderful cake was presented, cut, and passed around. Tea cups followed, as did Elisabeth with a thermos of tea and the sugar. We chatted about various wild animals, and exchanged stories. James unwrapped his presents with much difficulty and immediately gave them away to the various guests, who smiled and thanked him, then slipped them back to Elisabeth.
Slowly, the various guests trickled out the door, until the remaining few decided to call it a night. We walked out, waving our goodnights to everyone, gumboots squelching deliciously on the path.
I had been told dinner was at six, so I came early at six thirty to help with the setup. My outfit was duly admired and appreciated - by wearing nice clothes I was showing that I thought this was a special event. At seven, Kyalo sent Faith to get the other guests. They all came piling in and immediately segregated - men at the table, women on the benches by the wall. Kyalo offered thanks and we started up the buffet of chicken, rice, chapati, matooke, and beans (with eggplant!). According to custom, we ate as much as we possibly could - going into Unfillable Stomach mode. This wasn't hard, as Elisabeth's cooking is absolutely heavenly. Whoever says that African food is bland is sadly wrong. I decided to calm down after fourths.
A wonderful cake was presented, cut, and passed around. Tea cups followed, as did Elisabeth with a thermos of tea and the sugar. We chatted about various wild animals, and exchanged stories. James unwrapped his presents with much difficulty and immediately gave them away to the various guests, who smiled and thanked him, then slipped them back to Elisabeth.
Slowly, the various guests trickled out the door, until the remaining few decided to call it a night. We walked out, waving our goodnights to everyone, gumboots squelching deliciously on the path.
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