Staying in Bubandi

Last week I was able to spend 4 days in Bubandi with my Ugandan mother, Joyce. She and I got to know each other pretty well when I was in Bundibugyo before and I hadn’t spent much time with her since I’ve been back. I was excited to not only spend time with her but stay at her home “out in the bush”. When I returned 4 days later, Nyahuka looked like an absolute, buzzing metropolis. My time spent with her included:

• Learning how to cook over an open fire. And struggling to withstand the wood smoke in her chimney-less, windowless kitchen. I think I smelled like a campfire for about 2 days after getting back but I was proud of myself when I made lunch for us on my last day.

• Wearing Joyce’s shiny, silky too-big-for-me long sleeved shirt. It is rainy season here and the mosquitoes were relentless but I had forgotten to bring a long sleeved shirt. Thanks to Mama Joyce’s shirt I didn’t get completely eaten!
• Visiting friends and being introduced as her daughter. People were warm and welcoming (as Ugandans are) and were duly impressed by my limited Lubwisi.
• Chatting while washing a mountain of dishes and leaving them to dry in the sun.
• Listening to rats rustling around her house and night and telling Joyce that I was terrified of them. She found this quite hilarious. She told me her great fear was of chameleons. I found this quite hilarious. After getting very little sleep the first night, I wore earplugs the following nights and tucked my mosquito net in very tight. I slept better :)
• Realizing as we talked how it really is true that everyone is related here. I thought small-town Maryland was bad but it’s crazy!
• Listening to one of the two local stations that broadcasts in Lubwisi—the Voice of Bundibugyo, 93.0 FM. The radio was on a lot. Most songs I didn’t recognize, let alone understand. But at one point Maroon 5 came on. A nice surprise.
• Shading with Owen and Marvin, two little boys that I think are Joyce’s nephews.

• Laughing with Joyce about Nabalongo’s picky eating habits. She is Joyce’s elderly mother and after her many years on this earth, she knows what foods she likes and how she likes them. She is an incredibly sweet lady who only speaks Lubwisi. I wish I could talk with her more and hear her story—she has lived in the bush of Uganda her whole life, was a co-wife, survived Idi Amin and a war. And those are just the things I know of.

• Explaining a microwave to Joyce. Not sure how we got on the subject but she was shocked by the idea of it taking less than one hour to cook a meal!

Loss and Weariness

“No chilling winds nor poisonous breath can reach that healthful shore; sickness sorrow, pain and death are felt and feared no more. I am bound, I am bound, I am bound for the Promised Land.” –On Jordan’s Stormy Banks

This week has been characterized by loss. It began on Monday morning; I was in Bubandi staying with my friend Joyce and got a phone call. Our beloved dog, Jesse, had died in the night. She died heroically—killing a 6 foot cobra in our yard. Jesse was a truly African dog who protected us with her howling and her snake killing skills. Chloe, her mother and companion, has been subdued and sad this week too. I went out to tell Joyce about the sad news of Jesse and she told me of a neighbor’s toddler who died at the health center on Sunday night too. My sadness over Jesse was quickly put in perspective.

I attended the burial of the toddler and later found out that the child died of pneumonia—something kids just don’t die of in America. She could have been saved too but the night shift nurse didn’t show at the health center so no one knew that her condition worsened during the night. Sadness at the brokenness of the system here and realizing it does indeed result in lost lives.

Wednesday I went to visit my friend Annette. She had been “in the village” visiting her family because of an aunt’s lost battle with cancer. Cancer is not really curable here. Not only did she attend the burial of her aunt but another aunt died the next day. And two days later a baby in the same family died of malaria. So, so sad.

Last night the Johnson’s baby bunny was acting lethargic and strange; “rabbit in shock” was googled and attempts to save the bunny were made but I learned this morning that it died. Not an hour later I got a phone call. A friend of mine who is just a few years younger than me lost her father last night. He was a businessman and driver, delivering goods all across Uganda. The rumors are that he fell asleep at the wheel of his truck and drove off the road. Whatever happened, he is gone, and my heart ached for my friend imagining the shock and grief she experienced this morning.

School begins here on Monday and the requests at the door have become more numerous and more frantic as the week has worn on. Many people have true needs and no one to help them. Others have family that can help them but they try “the whites” first. Many have relationships with missionaries that have been here in the past and they want me to be a liaison, sending their requests to them. It is exhausting to hear each person’s story, sift through fact and fiction, and most of the time, have to say “no” and see disappointment.

Add to that my own problem of now being a 23 year old “cancer survivor/patient”. My health insurance through WHM has changed in the last few months--none of my doctors are in network anymore and the deductible has quadrupled. Trying to navigate insurance in the U.S. was challenging enough last year; but with a new policy and trying to do it in the bush of Uganda, it is near impossible. Many emails sent, struggles to figure out if the hard-to-procure prep drugs I’ll need in August for a post-treatment scan will be available or not, whether they’ll be covered by insurance or not, just how much money this will all cost. All of it is annoying. The true blow: being reminded that “cancer” is now attached to all medical records at age 23; an age when many of my friends haven’t seen a doctor for anything more than the flu in the last two years.

Watched “God Grew Tired of Us” this afternoon; still not sure if it was a good idea or not. Either way, it is a fabulous documentary about Sudan’s Lost Boys that you should watch. But today, it left me feeling sad and a little distraught. I think it is the first time that I’ve seen it since living in Africa. It was strange to feel like I connected more with the scenes that took place in Sudan than the ones in the U.S. Between all the loss this week has brought, the many struggles that I’m surrounded by here, my own challenges, and being reminded of the pain around the globe, I find myself weary.

I am weary and I find myself asking the so common question “How can a loving God allow such pain and heartache in this world?” I don’t have an answer to that question. But I am certain of one thing right now—this world is not my home. I am weary but I eagerly anticipate going home, where the struggles are finished and the tears are wiped away.

Total Stream of Consciousness

It’s Friday night and it’s been a busy week. I’d love to share some thoughts but I can’t organize them into a cohesive post. So prepare yourself for my stream of consciousness post!

-Had two really great conversations with Ugandans here in Bundi this week. Both included thoughts about sustainability of projects, the move in our team focus from aid toward development, and honesty about struggles that being a “mzungu” brings and the struggles of our Ugandan brothers and sisters.

-A series of sad sights on Thursday: seeing a girl having a seizure on the side of the road and not being sure of how to help; knowing she likely doesn’t have access to the medicines that epileptic children could get in America. A severely malnourished boy at the health center; unsure of his age but probably around 10 years old--bald, lacking pigment, vacant and curled up, a living skeleton. The pediatric ward was overflowing with patients too—many on mattresses on the floor—due to a measles outbreak and it currently being the “hungry season” here.

-Stood in line at the ATM for 1.5 hours on Wednesday. I arrived and the machine was out of money. After it was loaded with money, the line in front of me quickly grew from 5 people to about 15, as people came out of no where to “resume” their places in line. Every person had their ATM card plus 5-10 of their friends, resulting in many transactions and very little movement in the line. I finally made it to the front and actually entered the little room with the ATM in it. 2 men plus the security guard joined me in the room (banking is rarely a private affair here). I managed to get some money out using my card but by the time I got my teammate’s card in the machine, it was out of money. Bummer. Oh how I miss drive thru ATMs.

-Other conveniences I miss include: a washer and dryer, highways, a dishwasher, take-out restaurants, and buying produce that doesn’t require haggling.

-I’m noticing more people saying “Amaaniye Lubwisi” (she knows Lubwisi) when I talk with them in the road. I rarely feel like I’m making any progress in language learning but I do catch more and more words and I can communicate some very basic ideas (even if they aren’t conjugated correctly).

-Having relationships with the caretakers of my referral patients is an unexpected blessing. I saw Silivano’s father in town and had a nice talk with him as we walked in the same direction for a bit. Also met a grandfather whose granddaughter was referred to another city for physical therapy after having bacterial meningitis and seizures. Found out he is a believer and regular attender at Mt. Zion church; a small town just keeps getting smaller!

-Went to the market on Thursday and tried to buy mangoes (so happy for mango season!). Realized after putting a bunch in my bag that I couldn’t pay for them. Not because I didn’t have money but because I only had a very large denomination bill (worth about $8) and the total for the mangoes came to 40 cents. Getting change is not easy here; 3rd world problems, as some might say.

-On Tuesday night, a friend working for Pamela notified us that we had a bit of a “red ant problem”. In fact, there were thousands of safari ants clustered on the rocks outside our kitchen door.We called Josh for help and since we were out of paraffin, he loaded pure gasoline in a spray bottle, lit a match, and burned the ants. It was quite therapeutic to spray the gas, watch the fire “poof!”, and know the biting ants were gone.

-After a long and busy week filled with meetings, many knocks at the door,and a myriad of difficult requests to consider, I’m looking forward to a 4 day homestay with my Ugandan mother, Joyce, starting tomorrow. She lives in the village where it is peaceful, quiet, and few people know me (yet). I’m excited to immerse myself in Ugandan life, hopefully learn some Lubwisi, and to have some quiet time praying with Mama Joyce.

CSB Sponsor Needs

Christ School Bundibugyo is a truly remarkable ministry. Hundreds of students have received a quality education taught with a Biblical worldview since it was founded in the 1990s by World Harvest Mission. Over the last several years leadership of the school has transitioned into Ugandan hands and it has continued to bear fruit. This year the school’s exam scores were the highest they have ever been and both the girls and boys football teams competed in nationals!

Bundibugyo is a place where every family struggles to find the resources to provide their children with an education. Few girls have the opportunity to attend secondary school and children who have lost their father or both parents have little to no chance of attending. Since the formation of Christ School, the OVC (Orphan and Vulnerable Child) Sponsorship Program has also been in existence. The program gives students who show academic promise and do not have a parent to pay tuition the chance to attend secondary school.

The OVC program has been producing many successful graduates from the school, some of whom are teachers there now. Others have pursued careers in medicine, agriculture, social work, or business; often working to benefit their home of Bundibugyo. Christ School as a whole is working to empower the next generation of Bundibugyo to bring forth the kingdom. The OVC Program is a special way to empower the disadvantaged who still show great promise.

Each year, approximately 60 students are sponsored by Americans through the OVC Program (10 from each grade level). Each of these students has a unique story of struggle and heartbreak but they also have hope and plans for the future. We currently are in dire need of sponsors; 21 students are looking for someone to partner with them through their education. Would you consider investing in one of these students? The cost of sponsoring a student for a year is only $1.65 per day. Prayerfully consider how you might be a part of this movement to bring renewal and hope to Bundibugyo and click here to learn more about how to give.

8 of the 10 S1 (freshman) students that need sponsors.