last thoughts

i’m back from uganda-wow. jet-lagged and tired but happy to be home.

skinny white woman

internet in my room-what?!

so many white people

hospitality-hmm.

feel as if i’m in a ‘flintstones’ movie. clean. technology. newness.

open space

disconnection with the eyes

a soft bed

running water.

i’ll be updating this blog on some cross cultural shock issues as well as some of my journals during rwanda, but other than that my blog will be closed-at least this namaste africa blog. hopefully more journeys will come with more writing and poems. thanks for all your prayers and support. look forward to sharing stories. love-

rwanda….

just arrived back from rwanda a few hours ago……9 hours on a hard seat. i noticed all the people and every little gorgeous piece of african landscape in order to squeeze the last few days in africa out.

this will probably be one of my last posts in uganda-the next few days will be packing and ‘debriefing.’

i am looking forward to seeing you all-friends family and yama and moutains and oh dear wonderful natural toilet seat:)

another post soon to come…

AIDS

They say, I say

‘They’ say it’s a killer, it alienates, it distances.
You can’t be healed, there’s nothing you can do, there’s no hope, no life.
That’s not what I say. I say hold the children, touch the older woman’s hand…you can’t get AIDS from touch.
I say there is hope-in communities that have come together, in clinics and hospitals springing up around Uganda. I say you don’t have to die, maybe you cannot be ‘healed’, but you can be helped.
‘They say’ when you have AIDS it’s your fault, you’re a homosexual, a sinner, a prostitute.
I say that AIDS is not the sin. AIDS is an illness.
The sin of a nation/a generation passed down…
It affects children, mothers, fathers,’good’ people, ‘bad people,’ prostitutes, homosexuals, heterosexuals-it has no stereotype here in Uganda.
They say the AIDS epidemic has fallen in Africa. 30% in the 1990’s, 12% by 1999-Uganda.
I say Sub-Sahara Africa itself? 70% of the global total of HIV positive people. 70%.
‘They’ say separate AIDS homes, groups, and organizations.
I say they are part of us. Not to be excluded because of their diagnosis. How does that look in America?
Inclusion…the church embracing, the labeling excluded.
Is this realistic? No. Is this hopeful? Yes.
Just like a mother with cancer can live
So a mother with AIDS can live.
‘They’ say AIDS is the killer.
I say the shunning of those with AIDS is the killer.
I say embrace.
I say hold that hand.

the wind blows as an african rainstorm approaches

Walking to the market
Shadows on the red soil
New shadows a month ago- old shadows now
The large tree by the cathedral where the children and others sing.
The mothers union and the gardens which help me recognize where I be.
School children in their uniform uniforms-pink, red, grey…
Hands reached out in greeting-
A girl kneels before me in welcome greetings and says hello- I don’t know what I feel-humbled, angry, happy, sad, embarrassed…
A man on his bike passes with the sound of an icecream tune
Wait-
We run back to him. Sweet mango sherbet out of the blue cooler. The blue cooler on the bike. 200 sh. Less than 5c.
Wait for the matatus, the boda bodas, the schoolchildren, the bikes…cross the dirty streets.
We reach the market
Shacks sit next to each other with clothes, mugs, ‘wax paper’ (fabric), shoes, radios, trinkets for sale-each shop the same but offering a different bartering price.
Some days I just don’t feel like bartering-give.
Past the rows and rows to the fruit and vegetable market.
Women and sometimes men sit behind large structured stalls and sell their goods: peas, pineapple, mango, avacado, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, carrots, passion fruit, cassava, plantains, cucumber, eggplant.
It’s funny-so many vegetables, but so little eaten here.
Erin communicates with the Ugandan sellers with friendly banter-as if she were one of them. I am not-I quietly barter.
I buy green beans and carrots and boil them to make a wonderful mixture of veges that I have not had in so long-soft green beans, butter and salt…mmm
We walk back-hands reach out for us to buy.
Faces smile at us. Faces frown and stare at us-the stare that cannot be described: searching/silent/judging?
Back up the red soil. Back to the old shadows…
_________________________

much has happened since I last wrote-the internet has been off and on for awhile and due to that and a completely refusal to connect myself with the outside world during these last precious weeks in Uganda (ooor laziness) I haven’t written e-mails or such in awhile. Oh, and now is the time of semester where I have 5 papers due within the next 5 days and finals starting up next week, as well as saying goodbye to friends, trying to hold on to the days and watching the rain that stops everyone in their tracks.

The ‘sibiti’ girls made dinner for our sibiti friends the other day in Thelma kitchen and it was wonderful…we made a journey to mukono store somehow found cheese and apples (a long with other things of course) and also to the vegetable and fruit market so we could make quesadillas and apple cake. It turned out really yummy-I’m bringing the apple cake recipe home because despite the fact I don’t normally eat cake it is probably the best cake I’ve had ever. We invited about 5 of our Ugandan friends and they all loved it-played music and ate yummy food…food is the number one ‘gift’ you can give in this country. The power went out about half way through so we just lit candles…
Also, we performed out kiganda dance and the audience loved it-we were apparently the first usp group to do the cultural Buganda dance-so there was also a picture of us in the school paper. Quite entertaining actually-speaking of entertaining the costumes were very uniquely humorous. We had a long piece of colorful material wrapped around us, a gold top, and two pieces wrapped around our waist to emphasise the hip movement of the dance. The second ‘piece’ just happened to be he-goat hair…a whole piece of it. Yummy.

I think I had my last trip to kampala this past weekend-we went to get Ugandan coffee from this surprisingly American feeling coffee shop-I purchased some beans that come from the lake Victoria area. I’m glad to be taking no more travels to kampala-it’s so tiring. While there we always pass a few men who are begging on the sides of the rode-I’m not quite sure what to do when I encounter them…their legs are are curled up to their chests or their feet are swollen and arms little stubs.

Through goodbye parties complete with free African dancing, classes ending, papers piling up and exams approaching, as well as Rwanda beckoning in the distance I’m beginning to feel that familiar sadness that comes when an end approaches. I can’t believe I only have twenty some more days in Africa-then goodbye to some good friends I’ve made here that I may never see again. It’s like I was transported in a little timezone to this place called Uganda miles and miles away from what’s familiar. First it was uncomfortable, awkward, and I noticed everything wrong with it. Now that I’m leaving it feels like home, it’s not awkward, and I appreciate every beauty and friendship about it. I’m sure that when I look back I will look on this experience with rose-tinted glasses and see only the good things-as with many places that you haven’t been in awhile. I’m afraid to go home-to approach my future, to be amongst prongs of white people, to not hear the familiar chatter of Uganda tribal languages, missing the birds in the morning, the busy streets, and the repetitive food. Yet I’m ready to see familiar faces, the beauty of the mountains and eat regular food. It’s quite bittersweet. I think most of all I will miss my friends here…will I ever come back to Uganda? Who knows-only God truly, but they say once Africa is in your blood you want to go back. This is true-I think Ghana is next.

Because of finals and papers and then end activity I don’t know when next I’ll be writing-probably not till after Rwanda (we leave on the 19th) but then again maybe I will. Peace.

The wind blows as a Uganda rainstorm approaches…

the days move on…

3-30-08

I haven’t written of the past few days and they have been some gloriously fun days. I spent a lot of time with Susan today-we walked to my homestay’s church and ended up catching the Luganda service so we decided not to go…Susan knows very little Luganda and so do Maris and I. In fact Erin’s mom greeted me in luganda and I realized how much I had lost of the language especially since I wasn’t living with my ‘family’ anymore and all the student on campus come from vastly different tribes, with vastly different languages. We stopped briefly by my house and took tea with Winnie and watched a few minutes of an old film-which happened to cut off in the middle and switched to another film. It was rather hilarious and confusing.
Then I attempted to attend an Acholi party with Rita and Susan despite not having any ounce of Acholi within me. It was rather funny because the party was supposed to start at 2 but didn’t end up opening until around 4. ‘Africa time’ Susan says. Funny thing, I can’t pull that excuse when I’m two minutes late to breakfast and they say ‘you people’ to me and shut the door. A little bit of racial bitterness I would say.
So, then jenna and I and susan made chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen-it was susan’s first time having chocolate chip cookies…they’re so abundant in the U.S.:) While there I danced some ballet/lyrical for jenna and she sang ‘amazing grace.’ She has a beautiful voice and it was freeing to dance-dancing in the kitchen in africa. I miss dancing. I realize how much dance is a part of who I am and I want to minister it more-I loved dancing to acapella worship and felt at freedom with my gift and God.
So, full day continuing…I drank some coffee (which is probably giving me this neverending energy) and then cut three of my friend’s hair. Funny thing-I’ve suddenly become the hairstylist here. First it was –actually I don’t remember who was first- but now I have cut about 6 people’s hair and have 3 more to go.:) it’s fun-I love it. My ‘payment?’ Chocolate or homecooked food or yogurt. Ah, the joys of paying in food…
I cut holly’s-about 4-5 inches off gave her some layers in the front/back, wispy bangs and a shoulder length cut with a little more length in the front. I cut jenna’s bangs, adrienne’s bangs, maris’ hair and gave her bangs, and gave jenna a trim. Not that anyone really wanted to know that much detail-but I felt like spitting it out. Amber, get ready because I want to cut your hair too…those hair scissors were a gift that I’m glad I have.
After a bit of time with friends and too many cookies I’m here in my room journaling-not a lick of homework done over the weekend except some reading but that’s ok.
Last night was a blast-spur of the moment I went to the regular community event of ‘survivor’ held in nkoyo hall. It’s a community event with dancing, singing, a possible speech, lots of people and fun. It was the first time I felt like I was on a college campus and the students were actually relaxed, having fun, and not so uptight in their dressy clothes (i.e. suits, shiny shoes and heels, colored shirts, ties, hats, skirts, shawls…). Anyway, they had a sort of ‘be a man’ evening with this guy who gave a talk on what a real man is…it was quite hilarious actually. Can’t really quite explain what this little ‘speech’ encompassed, but it was culturally different yet at the same time similar to American guy/girl relationships and therefore hilarious.
At the end they had open dancing available (hip-hop like and Maris, me and Lauren went up on stage…man that was fun-the crowd was going wild clapping and cheering for us muzungus.:) they were commenting on how they didn’t think we could dance like that and that we were good. It was so much fun. A lot of guys were shaking our hands after and saying how good we were. It was great☺ celebrities for a moment…tomorrow for community worship we are doing the kiganda dance…we’ll see how that goes. Yipes-we are not prepared but we all place it into God’s hands and will just have fun because after all it’s not about us and the topic of the hour is ‘trust’ though. We are also going to have step dancers, and acapella trio, scriptural reading and such… I think the crowd will really like the step dancers-they’re good!
Talked to my family last night-amber, mom, dad, and neil. I just missed ryan…it was so good to hear familiar voice. Amber-I made up for you bragging about making sugar cookies by eating a whole load of chocolate cookies today plus coffee. Wow. Oh, and Neil don’t be thinking the “knife” I got you is a huge samuri sword-but it is pretty sweet…for cutting peaches or something.
I’ve just finished reading cry the beloved country by alon patton for my African lit. class and it is one of my favorite books as of right now. Beautiful, impactful, redemptive, sad, disturbing/stirring/motivating, descriptive…It’s about the non-whites in South Africa and the apartheid distortion of human relations and the human spirit. Excellent and a must read for those who want to understand the South Africa crisis , have been to Africa, or just are interested in social and justice issues.
“I have never thought that a Christian would be free of suffering umfundisi. For our Lord suffered. And I come to believe that He suffered, not to save us from suffering, but to teach us how to bear suffering. For He knew that there is no life without suffering.” (cry the beloved..)
“Why was it given to one man to have his pain transmuted into gladness? Why was it given to one man to have such an awareness of God? And might not another, having no such awareness, live with pain that never ended?… (cry the beloved)

“One can see, as I saw when I was a boy, over green hills and into great valleys. One can see, as I saw when I was a boy, the reserves of the Bantu people and see nothing of what was happening there at all. Once can hear, as I heard when I was a boy, that there are more Afrikaners than English-speaking people in South Africa, and yet know nothing, see nothing, of them at all. One can read, as I read when I was a boy, the brochures about lovely South Africa, that land of sun and beauty sheltered from the storms of the world, and feel pride in it and love for it, and yet know nothing about it all. It is only as one grows up that one learns that there are other things here than sun and gold and oranges. It is only then that one learns of the hates and fears of our country. It is only then that one’s love grows deep and passionate, as a man may love a woman who is true, false, cold, loving, cruel, and afraid. “ (cry the beloved)

my friend damalie just stopped by a minute a go and we talked for a little while-I very much like her. This is only the 2nd time I’ve talked to her but we shared and got a long well. Relationships here again are so interesting…a Ugandan you might have just met is supposed to be your good friend suddenly and them coming into your room at any hour, inviting you to see their family, share…is something that happens all the time. It’s interesting-good at many times but also can be frustrating. We Americans value our privacy and sometimes I can feel that cultural tug back to that privacy mode-I really enjoy the close relationships you can form with girls though. Guys too, but in a different more cautious way. Damalie was telling me she lived with her grandmother and 6 sisters and brothers-her parents died when she was young. I got the jist that it probably was from a mixture of the AIDS virus and her mom’s failed abortion. She talked with joy of her grandmother and how good she was-I told her I loved my grandmother as well. Family is such a blessing.

such a little word…

Africa
Such a little word that encompasses so man different people,
Tribes, clans, faces, beliefs, languages, skin colors, demographics…
The poor
The rich-who seem poor to American standards
Still on the outside looking in
Perhaps this is because of my color.
White. Muzungu. Lazy. Unable to do work.
But I can wash, I can eat your food, I can sing your songs…
Does that mean you accept me…
Does that mean I know you?
What did I come here for?
To search, to realize a dream, to be far way, to be “one” with the earth, to learn.
What have I learned?
Africa is not so far away.
I’m living in the top 3% of Uganda-going to a University, eating everyday, electricity, running water. Did I expect to come here to help? I don’t feel like I’m helping.
The earth offers much and is precious.
“Africa” is not one place/one person/ one language. It depends on where you go.
South Africa-split between extreme poverty and vast wealth…
Living right next to each other.
Uganda-on the surface cold and untrusting. Under many shadows open and nurturing.
Community. Conformity. Day to day existence-
Matoke, matoke, matoke,
Huts, dirty cities, mosquito nets. Names, places, roads, and dirt.
Much dirt.
Intricate, complicated, unable to reach each corner of every tribe, every district, every story…
Surrounded by conflict and hidden rage. Steeped in religion and the force of a God. Church and State is ChurchState.
Gorgeous sunsets, long days and rainy times where life stops.
Africa is not so far from America-only in travel…
Not really a complete thought or realization-
Do you see the children, the older woman, the dirty roads, the covered shacks-it’s all hidden now. No longer new and in the open.
Uganda, Uganda, will I see you again? Perhaps not-perhaps so.
No complete thought or realization. Just the image
Of an African rain
Cloudy
Thunderous,
Loud
Pattering and soft with rivets of mud
Hard and long with mud that gets stuck to your shoes.
Uganda, oh Uganda

AIDS AND EASTER AND RAIN…

March 18, 2008

Just woke up from a 3 hr. nap – can’t believe I slept that long…was very disorienting. Fatigue here is much more prevalent than back home. Many times I can just lie down after the day and sleep for hours. I can’t believe how many papers I have to do-probably about 8 before the semester ends-and those are heavy duty research papers only. Yikes!
Today we went to an HIV/AIDS hospital near Kampala city called Mildmay. Our presenter (can’t quite remember one of his four names) informed us a few things about this incredibly clean place-it’s the only HIV/AIDS ‘hospital’ in Africa, it’s whole method and structure and procedure is taken from the model in the UK, it was opened in 1998 which a few more than ten years after the first outbreak of HIV in Uganda in 1986/87, their major sponsor is the ‘center for disease control and prevention’ in Atlanta, Georgia, and services they offer include care, training, counseling, children’s programs, and spiritual counseling.
Approximately 2-500 people come in a day to get tested-4 days a week-18,000 are treated at the hospital, and there are HIV/AIDS clinics in Luwero, Mukono, and such but Mildmay is the only hospital that focuses truly on AIDS and has all the equipment a hospital has like ultrasounds, x-ray’s ect. The center offers classes to Ugandan’s for no charge to train for testing, teaching about AIDS, counseling and such. Classes for foreigners however are $95 dollars a day. Additionally the program really tries to focus on HIV transmission through the birth process because when in the womb the baby is mostly protected, but when outside the womb during the birthing process there is a high chance that the baby will contract the HIV aids virus.
The HIV virus can lay dormant in a person for years before they start experiencing symptoms of AIDS and have to go in to get tested. This is devastating and sudden-our presentor told of a young woman who was a virgin, not married, no children, just going to the university when she started experiencing symptoms. She went in and discovered she was HIV positive-she had gotten it from her parents who had died a long while ago – the cause of their death unknown to her. This news was shocking-at the least to this young woman. Those are the facts-what about the experience…
What a horrible disease-there is no cure-only strong drugs that help prolong life and do. HIV attacks every person, age, gender, height, size, sexual orientation-Though Mildmay is a Christian based organization they accept and treat everyone the same. I loved this part about the hospital. Our presentor said: “Jesus would do the same.” He would. When we walked a long the beautiful hospital grounds there were many people waiting in line to get tested, we saw the testing materials, the counseling rooms and such. When we stopped at the surgery area a little child was being operated on-I could see him through the window. His screams pierced my heart.
No words can express my emotions when a little girl approached our group on her knees-shuffling to each person to hold their hand. Kneeling is a sign of honour in Uganda –this is what she was doing…therefore she was on her knees. I held her hand and helped her up. I wanted to hold her hand forever. Why does she have to kneel to me? Who am I that I deserve respect? I just wanted to hold her and sit with her and play with her.
Nearby there was the children’s clinic which all the HIV + children stay-there are many staff who teach them songs and dance and cousel them. While we were there a group of children was in a circle jumping and dancing and singing. And smiling.
I reflect on the pain in the world-how God calls us to help others, how he offers hope because he suffered here on this earth with unimaginable suffering as well. How can I not believe in a God who went through the same? What does someone who know they are dying hold on to?

A few of us girls then stopped on the way back at the invisible children center –it was really wonderful and uplifting. It inspired me, gave me hope, connected the campaigns in the United States for the Invisible Children bracelets with the actual activities here in Uganda. The staff was preparing to move their headquarters more to the heart of kampala but we were still able to get a tour, ask questions, and hear/see the process.
Though it seems like such a simple bracelet woven with 6 strands and banded with a colored wire it is actual a very intricate and precise process.
How they make them/what they mean/where the idea came from/where the money goes?
Each bracelet is made from 6 strands of a brown reed that is picked, sanded to become smooth at the center we visited, then the smooth reeds are bundled and sent to the displacement camps in GULU to be soaked to become flexible, perhaps died in a black colour, twisted, tied with a wire and then sent back to the center we were at to be shifted through ‘ quality control.’ After making sure each bracelet is just right they are stored and sent to the U.S. through FEDEX. The storage area was full of reed bracelets-thousands and thousands-even the colours that they have not introduced yet like blue and yellow and just plain brown colours (not dyed in black). Each colour wrapped around the reed strand means a different thing-white for innocence, green for grace and child mother (which holds a story behind it) and many more meanings/stories.
Three amazing young guys started this idea and followed it through. Starting with just living with the Acholi people in GULU and surrounding districts they documented stories and started this campaign. I admire them greatly, and their striving for hope and change. The invisible children bracelet is modeled after an acholi marriage bracelet the tribe used to make out of elephant’s ivory tusks. The bracelet was only given in marriage and therefore meant a significant amount and was a rarity. Eventually, because of the threat to elephants, they started using reeds instead…
So, as to the funds-some go to the people in the Displaced camps, some go to shipping costs through FEDEX to the u.s., some goes to general management, but most of it goes to sponsoring children to go to school and also teaching individuals making the bracelets ways to manage and budget money, as well as wise ways to spend and save. Each of the children chosen to be sponsored are in despearate need for money to go to schooling.
I bought two bracelets-one for grace, one for innocence and will wear it knowing I’ve been there, heard, and know there is hope and success here in Uganda amongst the Acholi people and their oppression under the LRA.

‘the morning after easter’

it’s officially rainy season now-after days of waiting. it rained all day yesterday when i went to my family’s for easter lunch. i wish i had brought warmer clothes-showering this morning was like bathing in ice water. it is so gorgeous when it rains-the clouds fill up and surround the whole valley with layers and layers of beauty, and then it just pours. life stops for ugandans when it rains…..

we went to an aids orphanage the other day with all these little precious children. one little girl didn’t suffer from aids but was missing her shoulder bones and therefore did everything with her feet.

thoughts later-happy easter.

on the porch with the cool breeze

sitting here on the porch on a glorious day after the rain. it’s coming rainy season…where it rains every day, the mud slops up your calves, the humidity drenches your hair and clothes can’t be hung anywhere but your room.

’surfing’ the internet after weeks of being internet free. i checked my e-mail and there were 55…got excited for a moment but then realized that only 5 were from people i knew…all the others were junk:)

the weeks are turning into busy filled american weeks and i feel as if there is no time to do anything….papers, papers, papers, reading, discussions, presentations, tests, service projects, weekend trips, laundry. the list goes on-sometimes I can’t escape and want to spend a day alone on the top of monkey hill with nothing-absolutely nothing. i want to embrace uganda in the few weeks we have left here. spend time with meaning-friends, weather, experience, just days. it’s hard when there is so much conflicting scheduling going on around you. i also want to do more service but honestly i get so tired here-that sounds so selfish but there has to be a place of rest amidst a sorrowful nation as well.

going to bake cookies today with Annie Frannie – there are less muzungus trapsing around campus this weekend because they are all on a safari. it’ll be nice to have a quiet campus-supposedly you can’t see much on the safari because id amin exterminated all the elephants and only the giraffes are in the north where joseph kony and his LRA rebels reside. plus it’s such a load of money that’s not worth spending on watching monkeys…

not much more thoughts in my head. been thinking and learning a lot here-i know so much more from the african perspective about the conflict arising in the Eastern African countries…it’s very intriguing yet overwhelming and saddening at the same time. easter is coming up soon-not sure where i’m going or what i’m doing for that. then we go to rwanda on april 18 for a couple weeks……till later. love to family and friends.

st. stevens…

The second day of the ‘service projects’ we headed into them with no idea what the plan for the afternoon was…four of us girls and about 150 kids proved to be quite the exciting and overwhelming experience upon our arrival though. A smiling man (Emmanuel, a teacher there) greeting us with joy and so did a kind woman named sarah, or ‘catherine.’ They then led us up to the chapel where the kids greeted us with a song and clapping…I felt like a celebrity, but also somewhat used to all the looking after 2 months in uganda. I wonder sometimes what they are all thinking…most of the time I try to disregard this thought because it makes me too self-aware.

Somehow I ended up doing much of the talking and explaining to Sarah and Emmanuel what we would be doing/what they needed/what things they needed us to bring. It was somewhat frustrating because no one else was speaking up…sometimes I realize here that you don’t wait for someone to approach you but instead you just have to speak up. So anyway, hopefully we can get some paints to paint the building, maybe bring some drums, a ‘football,’ and paper next time to play with the kids.
St. stevens is a beautiful developing school sitting on a field in village-area mukono. Surrounding it is lots of sugarcane and rolling hills. I like it because it’s a place of respite from the busy city life of mukono and the university. The buildings are not yet painted or organized, but there are many schoolchildren coming and kind teachers. Some of the school kids I could tell had life a little ‘rough’ (to say the least). I remember one little girl’s face when we were playing games…her small face-like a bird’s-scarred from something, her skinny legs and dirty dress. She ran away when I tried to include her in the game but smiled as well. I wish we had been able to start service projects earlier – I feel like it is such a place to be. Even amongst the moments of silence, awkwardness, uncomfortableness, and language barrier it was a good place to be. I don’t know what other way to put it.
We played many games-all of which consisted of a large circle of mainly Luganda speaking little gents and ladies. Frisbee, mouse mouse pus cat (a Uganda modified rendition of ‘duck duck goose’), and they taught us ‘who will dance for me’ (which really only reached it’s peak laughter point when Lauren and I danced in the middle….otherwise the little ones were quite shy).
The other group colored with markers on a huge coloring book meg brought….we’re going to hang them up in one of the classrooms next time. They are beautiful.
Since we didn’t know when Vincent was picking us up we ending up watching a group of girls practice their singing and kiganda (chi-ganda) dance which was quite beautiful and joyous. Since I’m learning the kiganda dance it was interesting to watch the young girls do it-especially so much better than me☺ their teacher played on these loud resounding drums and led his students with much discipline.
On the way home we drove through 12 ft. high miles and miles of sugarcane fields. Probably one of the two most beautiful areas I’ve seen yet here in Uganda. I wanted to run through the sugar cane fields.
Though I can’t help but feel some uselessness and sadness when going to st. stevens, I pray that my Abba Father would grant me the strength and the usefulness, as well as helping us get paint and put things into place. Until next time.

the ‘bad place’ (noted-this takes place weeks ago…)

I went rafting on the Nile.

Yes, it is true-I almost drowned in 10 ft. wave rapids that ‘gently’ carried Moses in his basket hundreds of years ago. Granted, Moses was in Egypt, and I was in Uganda, but it still brings the story to life.

I have never had such an amazing yet scary adventure in my life. About a group of 25 of us went on Sat. (ironically, the same day that my sister went to California Adventure’s “rapid” ride at Disneyland) and stayed along the Nile River with one of the best rafting companies to send out expeditions. They are called “adrift” so you can check them out online if you want. They are all over the world. Our raft guide Josh was from Canada and had been taking tours on raging rivers in Australia, Canada, and Uganda. These guys were experienced! Additionally, there were about 6-8 kayakers who went along with us that were insanely ripped and incredibly talented at navigating the waves and rescuing you when you fell. They were all Ugandan guys. One had a “Muzungu” t-shirt one-”)

So…there were about 9 in a boat and we rafted for about 6 hours-stopping at a little island in the middle of the nile to have an amazing lunch complete with avocado, sandwiches, pineapple, and real cheese. I met a guy briefly there that was doing some missions work here in uganda-trying to start a sort of compound to help children in poverty. His name was ‘luis’ and he played soccer in Mexico. Amber…he spoke spanish! Anyway, the Nile was huge and beautiful and gorgeous….there were some lengthy lulls of time where we were able to get out of the boat and float down the river in our helmets and lifevests….the water was really quite warm and carried you fast. joyous. The other “non-lulls” of time included rapids ranging from a level 3 to a level 6. Level 5 is supposedly the highest. You can imagine what the level six was like–>pretty sure nothing in the states would compare to it (except for maybe the Grand Canyon). The Nile is world renown for its rapids. The level six was called ‘big brother’ and was one of my favorites because surprisingly 4 of us girls were able to ride the huge 10 ft. wave all the way through-I was clasping onto lauren, she was clasping onto me, ducking down in the front of the raft, and holding onto dear life as we went through pretty much the pit of hell. it was so much fun! All the other girls fell out and were caught under the rapids for pretty long periods of time-kind of traumatic might I say. Sometimes, the raft would flip over and you were stuck underneath so you would have to find an airpocket and ride out the waves. one word-scary.

the other rapid we went down was a sort of waterfall-said to be 16 ft. high. (called bujungali falls…don’t trust me on that spelling) all of the boats (except one) made it over without flipping which is good because you don’t really want to flip near the waterfall. that was probably the most exhilerating one-when we hit the bottom of the fall the weight of the water threatened to tip our boat so we all crammed to the right side and were pulled out with a roap….yes.

that last rapid ( a level 5 ) was accessed after walking around some extreme rapids that none of us could have made it through. I watched the video footage later when they showed it at the bar/restaurant at the campsite and it was insanely huge!

the “bad place” was the last rapid and you could either go through it or around it. we went through-straight through flipping over right away and having the ride of my life under the rapids. I thought I was going to die-couldn’t see up or down, couldn’t hold my breath any longer and was clinging onto my paddle for dear life. then I popped up and a kayaker rescued me. sweet jesus-never been more thankful for those guys in my life. i was swallowing nile juice for the next few hours…but man was it fun. i’d like to say that I officially survived the “bad place.”

along the nile river we saw ugandan’s and whites alike watching our perils and adventure in the nile, women bathing their children-as naked as God made them-, a huge lizard sort of crocodile thing, gorgeous trees and vegetation and a beautiful pink sunset at the end. then we had hot showers at the campsite, real coffee, and the ‘nile special.’ A bunch of people went bungee jumping too-the river had claimed all my courage for that day so that wasn’t an option for me.

It’s crazy-the cost of one day of river rafting=the cost of half a year to a year’s worth of tuition at the University in Uganda I go to. wow.

it rained here this morning .

friday we leave for soroti (in the east) to stay with rural village families. then we visit sipi falls so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to write before then. Really excited .  the village areas of uganda are beautiful and what your mind would envision uganda to truly be like. peace…