An 'ordinary' day

Written, Feb. 10, 2010

A maddeningly, frustratingly, ordinary Monday.

I’m up at 6 now that school has started. I walk Harriet’s daughter, Shannon, to her school about 2 miles distant. That reminds me of the walk to the school of my childhood in Holland, but not the road conditions or the early hour. School starts at 7 for all classes.
Shannon is a spunky 5 year old now in 1st grade; who told the bus driver that since her mom also was in school he’d have to take her home. No arrangements had as yet been made for her to take the bus but that was quickly arranged and since then Shannon has been taking the afternoon bus at 4. To have her ride the morning school bus she’d be getting on at 5:15; I kid you not. Things are no nonsense here. Now I get my morning exercise.

The road from our compound to the turn is paved but full of holes. They were filled with gravel and dirt a few weeks ago when the President came to town but most of it has already disappeared. At the turn in the road we go straight on a dirt road. The first section of that is gravel but the next part is unbelievable and difficult to describe. Part of it is steep, filled with deep ridges and large holes because, you guessed it, vehicles go there as well. I was afraid I'd have trouble walking there when the rains came but I was wrong. The worst part is the paved road which gets very slippery from all the mud when it rains. (I fear it because I've fallen one time on the way to church. One side of me was mud from top to bottom but we went on to church, surprising everyone. :<) Now I wear my trusty 'purple crocks' wherever I go; they don't slide.) Yes, I'm a sight for sore eyes I'm sure. but Shannon does not mind.

Sometimes I walk into town after leaving Shannon at school. All businesses are open by 8 and some even earlier so that is helpful. If there are a lot of purchases to be made I bring my trusty big shopping bag. (I’m forever grateful for that, Ruth.) The bag is large and can get very heavy but have no fear the boda-boda guys are begging to bring me home.

(Boda-boda, motorcycle taxi, so called because that is what it sounds like when Africans say, ''We’ll take you border to border.")

So what made this Monday so frustrating? Yes, and maddeningly so? We were without electricity and had been since Sunday afternoon at 3. Saturday we were without power from 11am to 6pm, after which I confidently started the crock pot for Sunday company dinner. Not so fast. By 10pm power was off once again and did not come back till 8 on Sunday morning. Sam was happy because he was able to shave. I’d already gotten up at 5 am to fashion a slow cooker on the gas stove because I did not want the food to spoil.

The neighbors on the compound, Sara and Anthony, do their laundry on Saturdays so I try to do mine on Mondays. And there we were without electricity and as it turned out, water as well. Water came back at 9 so I decided to at least fill the tub and soak the sheets. At least it gave me something to do because the computer battery was also empty. Sam had gone to the farm so I decided to take a nap, hopefully power would be back soon. Yea, sure, by 3pm, but then the water was off again, so laundry had to wait till the next day.

Just after 4 pm we heard this awful scream down in the garden area. Our garden is down a steep hill. Was it a bird? “No, grandma, it is a goat”, Harriet yelled while also yelling for Anthony. The 2 goats that were chained down in the garden area belong to Anthony but he didn’t think anything could happen there. Harriet kept screaming and when he finally got to where she was he came upon an awful scene. Two wild dogs and two puppies were pulling one of the goats through the back fence and a man with a shovel was hitting the dogs, which then let go. But the goat, Silas, was dead. Anthony wondered if the man with the shovel would want to buy the goat, to eat it, but Sam said we’d butcher it. He asked one of the men at the scene to cut the animal’s throat so the blood could drain, after which he and Anthony brought it up here on the compound.

The goat was hung on the fence and the men were occupied for the next couple of hours, butchering. Neither one had ever done that before so Harriet had a lot of fun listening to all the suggestions on what to do. Guess what? When a large bucket of water was called for, there was water, lasting at least 3 hours. Sara washed the hide, after which a neighbor man and our night guard scraped it clean and nailed it to a board. That is now drying on our roof and we have to keep the birds away.

Since we were still out of power I’d gone inside to make use of the last bit of day light still available so I could cook a meal. We’re so thankful for the gas cook stove.
Since none of us had a freezer large enough, I called our friends to ask if Sara could bring most of the goat meat there, which was fine. They brought me the backbone and some small pieces of meat, from which I cooked a large pot of soup. That became our compound, unity meal on Tuesday; as Anthony said, “In memory of Silas.”

Monday’s dinner was eaten by candle light and since we were still without power it was early bedtime, praying that Tuesday would be a better day. It was surprising to us how matter of fact Harriet’s two little girls take all these things. Shannon had to see it all, telling me later how she helps clean many chickens in her grandmother’s village. Stacy, almost 3, just loves to catch bugs.

The only pictures I have of this episode are of the men, cleaning and stretching the goat hide to the board. The guard loves pictures, since he’d never seen a digital camera before. He was so surprised that could be done when I took a picture of the big poisonous snake he killed here on the compound last week. It was already dark when Shannon saw something strange and asked her mother about it. Harriet saw it and while grabbing a stick, called the guard. He was our hero that night.

An ordinary day? Yes, for us here in Uganda. There always seems to be something different going on.
At the moment there’s a large truck, carrying a political team, passing the compound; yelling through great big loud speakers how their candidate is going to give them all they ask for. Yea, right! They even mentioned fixing the transformer at our place. All 4 of us living here, have been calling the power company. Thus far they’ve sent an assessment agent and a tree trimming crew. The agent diagnosed 2 rotting poles filled with bees and disconnecting wires. Sam has been telling them that for a couple of months now, one pole is hanging from the wires. I'll keep you posted.

The Farm

Sam’s farming in Uganda, January 12-2010

I came to Uganda to manage the start of a dairy farm for the Pentecostal College in Mbale and to train a permanent manager, who will be in charge when I leave. The College is doing this with financial help from Christian Reformed World Missions. Over all head of the college is Rev. Patrick Ouke, who also is in charge of the farm.

We arrived in Mbale on the 28th of October, 2009.
The first few days were spent cleaning our house and adjusting to our new environment. Mostly the house cleaning was to get rid of all the insects, beetles, spiders, geckos, and whatever small critters invade a vacant home. The ants were doing a great job, starting big ant hills in nearly every room.
Since we have little furniture, ( 3’x3’ table, 4 plastic chairs, 1 plastic table, a double bed and some small kitchen appliances) we were soon finished. What was very frustrating is that the power would just be shut off at any hour, water also was not dependable.
The first weekend here we were without power for 24 hrs; not a nice introduction but that’s Africa. We also had no transportation of our own (still don’t) so it also was difficult to shop for lanterns and candles. Thankfully, it is not cold and we cook on butane, a big help.

That first Saturday we had a very nice visit from a security officer of the US Embassy in Kampala. He also brought his wife and his 82 year old father, Lazarus. Joseph used to work for our son, Albert, at the Embassy and was all too happy to visit us. His father, who speaks only 1 word of English, kept reminding Joseph to be sure and tell us that he had only a second grade education. That sure touched Anne’s heart and reminded her of her dad, who had 6 years of schooling. She then noticed the large holes in Lazarus’ socks and asked if she could give him some new ones. Joseph said they’d be much appreciated and that’s when we heard the only English word he knows, a heart felt “Thank you”. Heh, I guess that is two words. :<)

My first visit to the farm was on Nov. 2. It is located roughly 7 miles from the house in a village called Bugama, To say I was impressed would be telling a lie, but we have to make the best of it. I also learned that we will not be receiving milk cows, but heifers, so we have time to get the place ready for milking. I also have to do much learning about what kind of feed is used for cows here in Africa. The farm has about 10 of the 20 acres in what is called elephant grass. I only see it as big reeds and wonder if that is supposed to produce milk. What’s worse, it is way over grown, how does one cut that? I’d been told that I’d find fenced in pasture land but only the perimeter fence was finished. I was impressed by the way that had been done. I’ve since met the man who did all that and have a good working relationship with him. We still have much work to do.

At the farm that first day, there was another muzungu, white person, he was from Michigan and trying to drill for a well. He, Merle, was very frustrated because at feet they kept hitting shale; for which his drills were not strong enough. So far they’d only dug for a latrine, to 20 ft, but the well was not encouraging. The water table is very high at the farm so that hole for the latrine filled up and stayed full. It was then decided that for the time being they’d pump water for the cows from there and put the latrine somewhere else. Hopefully, Merle will return and be able to finish the job.

I also learned that the heifers would not arrive till the middle of the month so I kept myself occupied by helping others, meeting local farmers and pump them for information about feed, etc. People here are very friendly and helpful. They seem very happy to see people our age coming to help them, at least that is what is said; sometimes I think they hope to get $$$ out of us. I tell them they have to work.

The heifers arrived on the evening of Nov. 19, after a long 24 hr trip from Western Uganda; near the Rwanda/Congo border. The distance is not that far, roughly 400 miles, but the roads are not in any condition to allow for what we consider normal speed; and I am told that they are not allowed to travel after dark with a load of cattle.

On the day of arrival, the veterinarian was present as well and oversaw the unloading; also giving 3 or 4 different injections. Some were vaccinations, others preventive shots against shipping fever, etc. The animals are on the small side, two of them quite a ways from being ready for breeding. And, surprise, sadly we discovered 2 pregnant ones as well; to my way of thinking they are still to small but the overall boss was happy.

The feed menu is nothing to write home about so growth progress is quite slow for the animals. Plus we’ve had to deal with what is called East Coast Fever, which is a tick transmitted respiratory disease that is fatal if not treated.

In early Dec. we had more vet work done, s.a. dehorning and pregnancy checking. Strangely, we lost one pregnant heifer 3 days later. I was glad she’d not had any medicine for over one week because she became Christmas dinner for the farm staff and their families; mainly the manager in training and the person who does most all of the work at the site, his wife and children helping as well. Actually, that family currently lives in what will later be the milk house. It works for me and that also is Africa.

Sometime around the middle of December we were able to find some reasonably priced grain and introduced the heifers to a grain ration of about 2 lbs. of mix per cow per day. After about 3- 4 weeks we are able to see some positive results of the feeding program. The health of the animals is now relatively good, we’re praying that it remains that way.

How do I get back and forth to the farm and elsewhere? I mostly travel by boda-boda, that is a motorcycle with driver. For the long trip to the farm, and is an admittedly dangerous road, I have the same driver. I know I can depend on him and he on me.
For trips to town there are many different drivers. Since we live only 11 gates east of the Mbale resort, where boda drivers always hang out to get passengers, it is not difficult to get a ride. The word is out amongst those drivers that I go to the farm and they’ll ask if they can also have a chance to take me.

I am very thankful for Ugandan friends here who have, and still are, introduced me to the way of a farmer here. All of us are learning and enjoying life here in Uganda. More later.

What's Christmas like in Uganda?

One of my readers asked how children in Uganda celebrate Christmas, so I went and asked several children and parents.

Would you believe that I really had to pry answers out of the children? They didn’t seem to know what I was talking about when I asked if they were excited about celebrating Christmas. (These were all children who attend church.)

First off, all children have school vacation at this time. Their school year goes from February through November, so they have just had graduation. In January parents will go to sign up their children for another year of school. So you can understand that there are no special Christmas programs at school.

Sunday schools in the churches we have attended thus far, do not seem to be preparing anything extra for Christmas. One pastor told me that Christmas celebrations are a family affair and most people go to their home village for the celebration, (We live in the city here.) like you children go to Grandpa and Grandma’s house. That means that many members are absent at that time and it is difficult to plan something.
One teenage girl (15) I talked with said that it was a real problem for her this year because her church will have a special program on Christmas day and she was asked to participate. Her Dad is very angry about that because he wants her to go with the family to the village. Since she is the only Christian in the family she feels that she has to honor her parent but her heart is with her church.

What happens at those family gatherings? The children all said, food, lots of food; that they don’t get at other times of the year. Maybe Dad will roast a goat or turkeys and large families might roast two goats. If it has been a good year there might also be sweets (candy), and most of the children also get new clothes, showing them off at church on Christmas day. Those are the gifts they receive.

They love to play with all their cousins and listen to adults telling stories. And they love to sing and dance and play loud music. Often there also are fireworks in the evening. We’ve noticed that people in the villages all seem to be related in some way and they love for those who have left the village to come home for the celebration.

Do they decorate inside their homes? Yes, they do and we see decorations available in the shops. We’ve not seen decorations on the outside, they’d probably be stolen.
We don’t go out much after dark either (7 pm) because we’re constantly being warned about how dangerous that is.

2. What kind of food do Ugandan children eat? was another question.

That is quite different from what you are used to. Mostly it is posho and brown beans. Posho is a kind of porridge made from cassava or corn flour, mixed with ground millet. Most cooking is done outside and you can always find a large pan of beans cooking someplace.
They also eat matoki when in season. Those are green bananas, They peel them and place them on layers of banana leaves which they then tie together and put in a large pan to steam over hot coals. When they are ready the bananas are mashed, like potatoes. You can also cook those bananas like potatoes and mash them but not nearly everyone has a stove.
If the parents have a good day (enough money) they might have a sauce to go over the matoki and posho. They call sauce soup and that might be made with ground nuts (peanuts) mixed with greens (vegetables) or mom might have some meat with spices so she uses that for the soup.
They also eat rice with sauce and chipoti (like your tortillas) but that is mostly for rich people.
Snack: mandazi – like a doughnut but not really sweet.
Dried grasshoppers, dried ants. At times you can buy them by the bushel. I was told that they also buy dried ants to put in sauces. That made me realize what was floating in a cup of yoghurt I was offered some years ago.
Of course they love candy but not very many children have the money to buy candy.
And they have many kinds of nuts to snack on.
Fruit: Right now it is mango season, and bananas. Also pineapple, passion fruit and jack fruit. The passion fruit is just coming on the market and does not look appealing. You have to cut it open and squeeze out the most delicious juice.
Jack fruits are big, like melons, only they grow on a tree and you have to work real hard to get to the edible part. I don’t care for them very much. We absolutely love the pineapple here and try to eat it every day.
Did you know there are many different kinds of bananas? We like the little yellow ones the best, they are so sweet. Here on our compound we have 3 kinds of banana trees. Yesterday we were able to pick a bunch of matoki so we had that for supper last evening, with a sauce made with goat meat and tomato sauce.

That’s all for now.
Our prayer is that you all will have a very blessed Christmas. Remember that the celebration is not about the gifts you receive, it is about the “GIFT” God gave us!
The question is: “What do I do with that gift?”

Christmas in Uganda

Christmas week; Sunday,
I write those words, but they seem unreal; it is summer time. We are planning on going to an outdoor concert this afternoon.
We are trying a new church this morning. Someone told us about an Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC) in the area, near enough to walk to. For real? We sure could use one that close because it gets tiresome always having to ask for a ride and people are not always available either.

Sure enough, we found the OPC meeting in the nearby National School. No wonder we’d not heard them before. They sing accapella and with only a few people at that; not loud enough to be heard across the neighborhood. :<) The familiar hymns, and also Psalms set to familiar tunes were music to our ears; I’d been threatening to wear ear plugs if we continued with some of the other churches we attended. The preaching was great and we were sorry to hear that pastor Dan was an interim pastor. He’ll be going back to his village this week. The regular pastor, Philip Proctor, is on vacation in the States.

The afternoon concert at the Mt. Elgon Hotel, (in easy walking distance) was great. It was put on by a choir, The Overcomers, from the Deliverance Church here in town. They are raising money to build a church of their own, now meeting at a school. Many other groups and soloists from other churches came out to help with the Concert, which lasted well over 5 hours. Yes, it was loud and no, people did not stay seated at all times; there was singing and dancing as well as much coming and going; like a huge picnic with 800+ people attending. Our friend Harriet was elated because I was able to take her picture with her all time favorite female vocalist, who also was on the program.

Monday brought a surprise. Harriet, a dear friend who is staying with us, discovered that someone had made comments on a plaque I had placed on the toilet door of the servant quarters; placed there because our night guards often leave the place a big mess. To stop that practice I made a sign with the exact words I had seen on a toilet door at the Water Department.
Our night guards have been the main users of this facility and the remarks were clearly directed at Harriet. The guards see her here and that particular guard must have had a bad day, but this was uncalled for.
What did the sign I made say? You really want to know? OK;
After a short stop,
Flush.
After a long stop,
Flush.
That’s all and very African. Some of these guys just don’t seem to know better.

The day ended back at the Elgon Hotel for dinner with our Sunday evening Bible study group, mostly muzungus (white people) As our leader said, “It will give us a chance to get dressed up.” We had a room to ourselves, giving us a chance to get better acquainted and to sing our Christmas Carols.

Tuesday; we call that day ‘The Bee Day’ but that is for a later story. My big assignment for the day was one I had decided on at the dinner on Monday. Amongst our Bible study group is a Palestinian family; refugees from Palestine in 1985, now Ugandan citizens. We really enjoy this family of 7; 3 sons, 2 daughters. The eldest daughter, Dianna, has a full 4 year scholarship to a Christian University in Lubbock, Texas and was supposed to start classes the first week in January, 2010. The only thing lacking to get to where she needed to be was a visa into the States and the Embassy seemed to be too busy for her. So I decided to send an email. Thankfully, I received a reply that same evening saying for Dianna to be at the Embassy by 8 the next morning. Wow, that meant getting up at 4 am for Dianna and her Dad, Joseph. But it was so worth the effort. Dianna called me at 9:30 saying she had the visa in hand. Thank You, Lord!
Dianna and her Dad were also able to give our friend Harriet a ride into Kampala so she could go and spend Christmas with her family. This was a big saving for Harriet. As Dianna said, “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

Wednesday; Having been up with Harriet at 4 am, I slept ‘till late in the morning, as Sam was returning from the farm. Most of the rest of the day was filled with accounting work.
Keeping accurate accounts and chasing receipts keeps me very busy, one friend calls it a full time job.

Thursday, Christmas Eve; Friends Dr Patrick and Helen Mutono stop by early in the am, inviting us to spend Christmas with their family at Sisi Falls, their privately owned, very large piece of real estate that includes a beautiful water fall. They have built 3 large African huts on this property. The first hut, located near the entrance is for use as a restaurant. The kitchen and bar take up most of the space inside, and a small veranda up front in case of rain; the main dining room is the beautiful garden area. The other two huts are placed up the mountain and are used for motels. Each of them has 4 rooms with 2 single beds and a bathroom. They are placed quite a distance apart, going up, and in between is an area for tenting as well; including toilet facilities and shower stalls, cold water from the falls. Should the guests desire warm water for bathing, it will be delivered to their door in a jerry-can in the am.
The family uses the sleeping facilities for their own use, and guests, at Christmas. We’d been to Sisi the first Sunday in November and looked forward to going again. Tentative departure time for Sisi was set at 4 pm, later changed to African time; 2 hours or more late. We’d have dinner on arrival and in total there’d be 17 people coming.
I decided to still make a big batch of cinnamon rolls for our contribution on Christmas morning, the cookies were already waiting. Around 4 pm there seemed to be a steady knocking on our gate, like knocking on someone’s door. That’s when we were introduced to the lovely Ugandan custom of delivering plates of sweets (baked goodies) to your neighbors and friends, for Christmas. Thankfully, I already had some prepared for the nearest neighbors, the rest would have to wait till New Years; oliebollen, the Dutch tradition.

It was well past 7 when we were picked up for the 1 ½ hour ride to Sisi. The place looked dark as we neared and we soon learned of the reason why. There was a major power outage in the area because of a heavy rain/wind storm in the afternoon. The generator already was powered up and running and the kitchen crew was ready to serve dinner. Where? In the main dining room of course, where the tables were set; we just could not see them very well because the generator had to mainly be used for cooking.
The meal was delicious, I just wish we could have seen what we were eating. By 10 we were ready to trek up the mountain and bed. The generator was switched over to serve the lights along the path and the rooms but there were big shadows from trees and rocks, and the ground was slick because of the recent rain fall. I sure was glad we’d been there before so we knew some of the path that was coming. Our flashlights did help somewhat and finally we arrived at our door, of the last hut.
When the door opened and the light turned on, we were delighted at the sight of that cozy room and because of the elevation we didn’t need mosquito nets, how nice. It did not take long for us to unpack and fall fast asleep, not waking till 8 am on Christmas morning.

Friday, A knock on the door announced that breakfast would be at 9, in the main dining room. On opening our door we were welcomed by lovely sunlight and the scent of warming earth. Soon we were ready to go down for breakfast, I wore my Christmas blouse and vest to remind me it was Christmas. :<) It took a while to get down the mountain for there was so much beauty all around us, we just had to stop and look; and take pictures. We also were surprised at all the tents set up in the tenting area, the young people in our group preferred sleeping in a tent. We were glad we were in a hut with reed roofing, they are warmer/cooler and much quieter than tin roofs.

Breakfast in the great outdoors was special. You could order eggs any way you wanted and the cinnamon rolls were much appreciated. As we were eating we could hear the last songs of the service next door and I felt guilty of not being there among the worshipers.

This was also the day that the Mutono twin girls, Peace and Joy, were born, 4 years ago. They now introduce themselves as Peace-Peace and Joy-Joy. Helen and Patrick adopted the girls when their 15 year old mother died in child birth.
Helen reminisced about how tiny and fragile the girls were when Patrick brought them home from his hospital. They’d been brought there in a box when the place where the girls were born didn’t know what to do. Now they are healthy and try to rule the family. The girls were very excited about their party to come, especially the 2 cakes baked by the older siblings.

During breakfast there was much planning on how to spend the day. Some were planning to hike to the top of the Falls in the afternoon but first came the excursion to the pool at the bottom of the Falls. Could they swim there? Some claimed it to be very deep.

Going back up the trail took a long time, because of all the picture taking. We were really impressed, now that we could see, by what the Mutonos had accomplished in their park. The first time we were there, 2003, it was mostly a muddy trail and no buildings; just Helen’s great plans. Now it is a mini resort, attracting many visitors; daytime only, as well as overnight guests. Yes, there is an entrance fee to help with maintenance. The 8 full time employees are doing a great job.

Alongside our walking trail we would also catch glimpses of the stream coming down, and the sound of the falling water grew louder. When we came to the place where, in the States, one would expect a fence with no entrance signs, there was a large cement structure on the lower slope. That was build by the community and from where they get their water. A huge boulder blocked our view of the pool at the bottom of the Falls but one could see the long water trail, over slippery rocks, leading to the pool. Three of the men in our party, including Dr Patrick, decided to try getting to the pool, the rest of us found the path too treacherous.

Since we’d gotten there early we still were the only ones at the site but soon there was a steady stream of visitors, most in their Sunday best; because it was Christmas, don’t you know? One father took his 2 young sons by the hand and headed into the water, to go see what was around the corner of that huge boulder. I couldn’t believe my eyes, all 3 of them were in suits. Soon there were many others following.

Sam also wanted to see but he decided to go the land route. To our right was a steep grassy hill with signs that people had gone up that way. My first realization of what he was planning was when I saw him, on hands and knees, half way the top. Picture time!
Patrick also wanted pictures, before he went around the boulder. Soon all of them had disappeared from our sight.

Then I noticed some people far above me, seemingly on the path where Sam had disappeared. What route had they taken? I decided to back track a ways and sure enough, there was a small, hardly noticeable path meandering up. At times that also was slippery but there also were trees to hang on to if needed. It’s also a beautiful view of the valley and villages below. Nearing the end of the trail I met a party of four, who wanted me to take their picture; they told me that Sam was just a ways ahead.

Sam smiled when he saw me and said to bring the camera to where he was. Sure enough, from that vantage point one has a clear view of the pond and our 3 friends were having a great time. Not swimming, just letting the water poor down on them. As it was later described to us; “The pond is not deep, you just get the best massage ever.” I’ve got many great pictures of those guys. Sam and I had our picture taken up there on the trail, with me in my Christmas blouse and the waterfall behind us.

On the way back down, there were signs that we might be in for a rainstorm in the afternoon. The cloud formations were awesome, picture time! As we were getting near the sleeping huts, someone came to tell me that Patrick wanted pictures of him and the twins, playing in the stream below. I’d not noticed that stream before since it’s away from the path, what a beautiful place to play and relax. I don’t think many visitors to the park know that place exists. The girls just loved to have their picture taken with Dad.

Back at the restaurant, it was lunch time. This was not to be in the main dining room for already rain drops were falling, which soon turned into a deluge. I felt sorry for the kitchen staff as they were preparing a wonderful meal for the 17 of us, with only the generator as power. At the same time they were filling orders for daytime visitors. Lunch would be late so I brought out my cookies, for hungry teenagers. I’d also brought my large felt board to present the Christmas story. When the twins tired of playing with the felt pieces, a girl (12) from the visitors asked what we were doing. So I told her the story of Jesus’ birth. She smiled, saying she knew about that and could she arrange the pieces her way? Of course she could, while I asked if she was a Christian. No, she was not, they were Hindu.
How then did she know about Jesus? She told me that she was studying many religions and her mom had told her about Christianity. Where did mom get that information? The girl beckoned for her mother who said that she’d learned from the nuns in Catholic school but she was Hindu and respected all religions. I agreed on the respecting of people but I asked, what would happen when she died? The nuns had surely taught her about needing Jesus as a Savior to get to Heaven? That is when mom’s face fell, she had not thought about that, probably did not want to. So I reminded her of all she had been taught, to which she agreed, and told of the responsibility she had toward her daughter.

Just then someone said to me, “You need to look at what is happening behind you.” Turning around I saw a large group of children and adults hanging over the wall of the veranda. They’d been listening to all I was saying to the mom and daughter and now a Dad of these children had questions. So from then on I concentrated on that bunch. Mom and daughter had disappeared next time I looked, I’m just glad I’d given them some tracts to take home and in which mom seemed to take great interest.

I also had Gospel bead bracelets with me, so I used them with the crowd outside, staying dry underneath the eaves of the hut. Sam was talking with one of the dads outside. The children paid very close attention to my explaining the use of the bracelets, I had the Dad read the scripture verses. He told the older children to remember what they were. I was so sorry that I did not have a Bible for each family, when they told me they didn’t have one. They loved and were reading all the tracts and proudly wore the bracelets. They also knew they’d go to heaven because they loved and believed in Jesus. I told them to go ask their pastors for a Bible.

When the rain let up, the trucks were started and the crowd said goodbye, with many thanks; of course having first had their picture taken. Most of that group was standing in the bed of the pickup as they drove away, they had about 20 kilometers to go. Very African.

Next was a big and delicious lunch/dinner. Not what the hosts had planned, a barbeque, but what God disposed, including not being able to climb to the top of the Falls in the rain. We talked about man proposing and God disposing and how thankful we were for all we’d received, being so undeserving.

The twins showed off their fancy birthday dresses and served their cakes. By 9 pm we were more than ready for bed but had to wait for the rain to let up once more, it would also be nice to have lights along the trail. We also learned that the next day we were invited to a home dedication party for one of Patrick’s relatives on the other side of Mbale.

Saturday, A beautiful sunny day and we had electricity. At breakfast Sam received a call that one of the cows was sick. There was nothing he could do about that from where we were so the vet was called. Since we’d be stopping in Mbale before going to the dedication party, Sam decided to go home and go to the farm. I was persuaded to go to the party. Thankfully, I’d worn a colorful dress on Christmas eve, that would now have to do double duty. The teenagers in our group were not too excited about going but it was a family obligation. They were bribed with all the good food that would be served.

Another long bumpy ride in the 15 passenger van; first to Mbale, 1 ½ hr and 2 hr to the party. I don’t think my body will ever get used to those roads.

The dedication party was a huge event, attended by 200-300 people. There were 2 huge tents set up in the front yard of a beautiful new home. The one was mostly filled with the groom’s family while the other was still waiting for many from the bride’s side. The music playing were all Christian songs and not too loud. :<)
The Mutono family was asked to enter the grounds through a special archway, so Patrick motioned for me to take pictures. When everyone was seated the festivities could begin, with introductions of family members, and long speeches. I learned that most of these two families had not met at the wedding, about 4 years ago, so they decided to do it at the dedication of the family home, including the presentation of the dowry; a young cow, a huge stalk of matoke (green bananas) and a chicken.
Their pastors also participated, with prayer and reading scripture. It reminded me of the readings in U.S. wedding ceremonies. Then the ribbon was cut and the immediate family was allowed to enter the home, where they were asked to sit and were served a slice of cake and bottle of soda by the bride and her attendants. After that the guests outside were served, their soda came with dinner.

And what a dinner it was. There was a long table filled with huge bowls of food, matoke, rice, beans, chicken, beef, coked greens, sauces; everything delicious and not a crumb was wasted. Before we got to the serving table we had to wash our hands and pick up a plate, then proceed to the serving table. Plates were heaped full and I wondered how we were going to eat it all, besides where was the silver ware? Then I noticed everyone eating with their hands and when they were satisfied they motioned to the children from the neighborhood, standing all around, to pick up the plates. Believe you me those children also had a feast and they came prepared. They’d come with plastic bags and filled them with what they could not immediately eat. That also is Africa.

We were thankful that the long threatening rain held off till on the way home, where we arrived around 9 pm. I was glad to see that Sam was also at home. He shared that the cow seemed to be feeling much better. Thank You, Lord!

That was our Ugandan Christmas week, 2009 Anne and Sam De Jong

The Beginning of the Adventure

Editors note: This post should have been at the beginning, but because of some technical difficulties is appearing here. Mom has had problems getting on gmail so Lora and I (Anne's daughter and granddaughter) are posting for her. I've encouraged her to write weekly as she has many stories to tell and loves to tell them. I hope you enjoy reading this blog and when you do remember to pray for Mom and Dad. While they feel called to this 'adventure,' it's also a great challenge, especially at their age. Theresa

Ugandan Year!

Official starting time, October 21, 2009.

Leaving Marysville at 2 pm, Steven has all of our luggage, 7 pieces, in his car; we are in Harmen’s car.

Arriving at SeaTac shortly after 3, I’m glad to see the British Air counter open but few customers. We have all that luggage to check in and I’m nervous about the weigh in. Sam weighed each piece at home but seemed skeptical about the accuracy.

Steve has to be home by 4 so we bid him goodbye while Harmen makes sure we check in. We were so surprised, and relieved, when each piece of luggage weighed in at just a few ounces below the limit. Hopefully we’ll meet up with them in Entebbe.

We said goodbye to Harmen and headed for the security check-in, another dreaded part of this travel. Both of us had a small carry on and a purse, though my “purse” probably weighed as much as some suitcases. I also carried a laptop and each of us wore a safari jacket, which had the many pockets filled to capacity. I felt like a stuffed pig.

Security people were kind and helpful, I’m sure it helped that we were early. They did require my “so called purse” to be opened and checked it out but nothing was taken and the weight was not questioned. I was happy, Sam just shook his head; the bag must have weighed 40 lbs. By 4:15 we were enjoying a cup of coffee, waiting for our flight; leaving in 3 hours for London.

Right after we were airborne we were served a meal and after that our tired bodies just relaxed, sleep made it seem like a short flight.

Arrival in London was at 12:15 pm, weather was great. As we were leaving the aircraft I asked a young girl where she was going. Her surprising answer was, “Uganda.” Wow, that family of 6, the Andersens, was also going to Uganda. We’ll meet up with them on the next leg of our travel.

Our plans were to go to a day stay at a hotel but discovered that we’d been directed to the wrong area of the airport for that. We were told to get back to where we entered the building, fill out customs forms and wait for a bus. BA officials advised against the plan, saying we would have a very tight schedule. Both of us had had it with tight schedules so we nixed the hotel and decided to stay in terminal 5.

The surprise there was that before we could enter we had to go through security. And they found 2 bottles of lotion that were not allowed; odd, because in Seattle that never was questioned. One of carry on cases was also said to be too large. We’ve had that one for at least 6 years with never a question. I guess all airports and countries have their own rules.

We were not required to check that case in but my lotions are gone. Now we are just passing the time with naps, walks and coffee snack till the 9 pm flight to Entebbe. It also is fun to talk with people of different countries. Many wonder what these grey haired people are doing here.

The above was written on what we are calling “Our lost day”, in London. We just hung around in terminal 5, making ourselves comfortable on extra chairs and napping. Our next flight left there at 9:15 pm and brought us to Entebbe by 6:30 the next morning. And, oh wonders, so did all the luggage we’d brought. Going through customs was a breeze since those with visas already in place were told to go to another line, show the visa and go to the waiting crowd outside.

We’d been wondering who’d be there to greet us and scanned all the signs being lifted for us to see. One young man was so excited, he ran toward me and gave me a big hug before he realized I was the wrong person. Funny!

And then I saw the familiar CRWRC sign of the Christian Reformed World Relief Committee. When I waved at the 3 people holding it they gave big smiles, immediately stepping forward to help and welcoming us to Uganda. The 3 gentlemen looked at all our luggage and began a big discussion on how many cars it would take to bring us to our destination. One of them, a taxi driver with an SUV, held out that he had plenty of room for the entire luggage; the trunks could go on top of the car. We admired the way he planned everything and secured the trunks. Then we were off to the CRWRC office.

Our arrival was on a beautiful morning during the rainy season. The greens were washed and shiny, the colors of the flowers deep and bright and the sun was just beginning to send its warming rays. Hovering over all that beauty was the pungent odor of charcoal fires, the black exhaust of cars and the abundant ever present motor cycles. Welcome to Uganda! We did note an improvement of the highway between Entebbe and Kampala. Our driver told us that the improvement was done because of Queen Elizabeth’s visit a few years earlier.

At the office we were greeted by the office manager and an intern from Toronto, Canada. the rest of the staff was in a conference. It was decided that we’d store our large trunks at the office and quickly proceed to the hotel they had reserved for us. We were in need of some major sleep time.

The Fressy Hotel in Munyonyo District is a nice looking building with beautifully kept lawns and gardens and the staff was happy to greet us; assisting us with carrying our luggage up the stairs to the 3^rd floor suite. The beautifully made bed and the soft breeze from the open windows was an inviting and very welcome sight.

It was 10 am but before long we were fast asleep. We did manage to eat something that evening but most of the day is a blur, sleep was more important. By morning we expected to be ready to start the day but sleep won out once again.

The phone startled us awake just before noon, friend Helen Mutono had tracked us down. Her message was, “Your family is worried about you and want me to take you shopping for a phone and get your computer up and running.”

It was so good to hear her voice and before long we were on our way to go shopping in Kampala.

The $ exchange rate is down by 15-20 cents so the budget needs correcting. I’d been wondering how to get on the internet and Helen had the answer. “You need an Edge USB Modem and you’ll be able to connect to the world. The modem is connected to the cell phone.” Sure enough, that very expensive rectangular little stick worked and put us on the internet; I’m so grateful. We also did some needed household shopping for items not available in Mbale; Helen’s very practical advice was so welcome.

During the night we were awakened by a heavy thunderstorm, which lasted almost an hour. We had not experienced such a storm for many years, it reminded us of God’s power in creation.

Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful. The birds start their morning ritual about 5:30 and they are loud. I don’t know how many species there are in this vicinity but they sure do their best to let people know its time to get up. I loved sitting on the balcony and be reminded of the children’s song, “The birds upon the tree tops, sing their song; the angels join their chorus, all day long; so why shouldn’t I, why shouldn’t you, Praise Him too?”

At breakfast we met a young man who was mourning the death of his mother. He had come back from England, for the funeral, and was staying at the hotel. I asked if his mom was a Christian. “Yes, she was, and a very important member of the Anglican Church here; but why did she have to die so soon?” I asked if he was a believer and from his response I could tell he was struggling with faith. That started a discussion about what the Bible teaches about God, Jesus, and faith. At one point the young man said, “What you say is what my mom always used to teach me. I listen to you because you are the age of my mom. I want my son to learn these things also.” I then asked if I could give him some literature to take back to his son in England. He happily said yes and waited till I went to our room for some Child Evangelism tracts, which he eagerly received. Thanks to Rita Zurschmiede (CEF) I had those tracts available.

We then had to hurry to meet the Mutono family who were picking us up to take us to the University Christian Fellowship church. It was a joy to see all the Mutono family again, this time with the addition of 3 year old adopted twins, Peace and Joy. At the church we met pastor Micah and wife Grace, also dear Barbra Tumwebaze, whomwe first met in 2003 and who has blossomed into a much more confident young woman. Also sweet Susan, who works for CEF in Uganda and who traveled a long distance that morning to meet us and receive the package I’d brought her from Rita Z. What a joy to see them all again and to worship in this very large tent that can seat well over 1000. The place was packed and that was their second service that morning. We wondered if God was trying to tell us something when, during communion, all human sound was drowned out by a heavy thunder storm.

After the service we enjoyed pizza at Garden City Mall. I had my laptop with me so I could also visit the computer people again since I was still not able to get a letter out. They worked on it and assured me that now it was fixed. Great! However, I could not test their confidence that evening for the area was without power, nothing worked.

Monday afternoon was scheduled for visiting the US Embassy. That was a fun time as a number of the staff were expecting us, having been told of our coming by son, Albert. The new RSO also came to welcome us and each one asked how Albert was doing. They also told us that we could expect some visits in Mbale by a few security people of the Embassy. We told them that all would be welcome.

From the Embassy we went back to Garden City Mall to once again visit the computer store and to get more $$$$ changed to Shillings as Tuesday would be the BIG shopping day. This time there was a different person to help me with the computer. He very patiently listened to what I had to say about my problem with the lap top. He then tried it for himself and when that didn’t work went to the telephone for help. Before long he was pushing all kinds of buttons and I heard him say, “Take the cookies out.” Whatever that means, but it worked. And now I can use the laptop.

Want to become a quick millionaire? Take a couple thousand $ to Uganda and trade them for Ugandan Shillings and you’ll be a millionaire. Staggering to think about.

Today, Tuesday, was our big shopping day for appliances, etc., all things we’d need for setting up our housekeeping. Oh my, we now have 3 big stores to choose from; the last one just opened in July. Harriet, from the CRWRC office will accompany us in this venture, for which we’re very thankful. She recommends the new store.

We started with by finding a small gas stove with 4 burners, 3 gas and 1 electric. The oven is also electric. The next isle had washing machines, all very complicated and not that reliable with all the power outages. Then I saw this small machine that reminded me of one my mother-in-law in Holland had in 1971. It washes the clothes but you have to put it in the spinner to get the water out and it only uses cold water. ((How about that girls? You’ve been trying to get me to cold wash for a long time already and now, here it is.)) After the spinner finishes, it doesn’t take long on the line and the clothes are dry. We wondered about the size of refrigerator we’d find, College dorm? Thankfully a bit bigger, it will serve us for the year. We also found a microwave, cooking pans, a toaster, hand mixer, brooms, mops and buckets. What fun, starting over for sure. We couldn’t find a fly swatter and are still looking for one.

Now the interesting part; Harriet decided that the appliance warranties needed to be registered, before I paid for them. There was a special desk in the store to take care of all that so she and Sam left me at the register to wait, and wait. I was surprised that the clerk didn’t mind. “That’s service, maam.” was the reply.

So we started talking; the store is new to this area from Kenya, and open 24 hrs/day. Had I been to Kenya? Only to the airport but I hear it is beautiful. I also know of a Christian Boarding school in the Riff Valley area.

Why are we in Uganda? And why are you staying a long time. Working for a Pentecostal College? Are you Pentecostal? No, I do not belong to the Pentecostal Church, I am Reformed. The clerk looked at me and said, “I am Catholic”, and the next clerk who chimed in was Salvation Army. I wondered if they attended any church and learned that it was hard to attend a church because of their work schedule. I also asked if our faiths had anything, or anyone in common. They looked very puzzled so I asked who they prayed to. Well, God, of course. What about His son? What is the only way to get to Heaven?

Then the light went on for both of them as they discovered our common connection. We worship differently but we believe that our salvation is in Jesus Christ alone. They looked at each other and had the biggest smile on their faces, as did some of the bystanders. It was a great time.

Do you ever buy an appliance and later wonder how to get it home? We finally asked if the store would deliver all the items to the CRWRC office by that evening as we were scheduled to be picked up from there by 10 am the next day. This time I was hoping that meant Ugandan time, usually 2 hours late, as we had many more things to accomplish before that time and I was dead tired.

Wed. October, 28, one week after leaving Marysville, we leave Kampala for Mbale. Rev. Patrick Ouke, from the Pentecostal College arrived at the CRWRC office by noon time. He came in a taxi bus, from which 2 seats had been removed, and 2 drivers because it was a long way to go and he needed strong bodies to get all of our luggage and purchases inside the vehicle.

Those drivers were good, after some consultation they managed to get everything, including washing machine, stove and frig., inside that taxi, with the 5 trunks once again on top. In one hour everything was packed up and we were off, insisting that they could make that long drive in 3 hours. The weather had been great all morning and they could do it again. Before we got out of the city, it was raining and continued to do so much of the way, at times so severe that we wondered if the driver could see where he was going.

I asked, why the hurry? “Because when we get this stuff unloaded at your home we have to go and buy a mattress, bedding, chairs, etc. so you’ll be able to sleep tonight.” Oh my, and here we’d been told we’d be able to stay at the college dorm for a few days to help us get settled. As we neared Mbale Sam and I both yelled out at the same moment as we saw a bus come barreling toward us, in our lane of the road. Thank God, there was a berm alongside the road at that spot or we’d have been in big trouble. Our driver kept the vehicle upright, unlike another taxi that we’d passed sometime earlier.

By 4:45 we were at the house and everyone got busy unloading, no time to look around. I had no answer as to where things should be placed, all I saw was large bugs scurrying around in the rooms and huge ant hills as well, plus many bees in the windows. I didn’t want any trunks to be opened until the ants were disposed of. But no time for that, we needed to get to a store. There was a bed and small table already in the house so we needed a mattress, queen size, here called double. The lady also had sheets and someone else brought chairs, blue plastic; like you use outside. This was going fast and while Sam took care of getting the items in the taxi, I slipped to the grocer next door for some food items for the next day. I’d already noticed we’d be living farther from town then we originally were told, and not having transportation might present a problem.

Back at the house by 6, trying to make some sense of things. As people were leaving, I heard Mr Ouke say that he and his wife would take us to dinner at 7:30. Fine, we had to get a bed made and find some clean clothes, besides the bugs seemed to be winning. Sweeping just seemed to produce more and I was so tired. Then I heard Sam exclaim, this is nuts, we’re not doing this tonight. There’s a hotel within walking distance, we can sleep there.

That is just what we did. After dinner we went to the hotel for a shower and a good night’s sleep so we could start refreshed the next day.

This is Africa, Welcome to Mbale!

A Saturday Adventure

What an exciting Saturday!

As some of you know, I require monthly blood tests and before leaving the U.S. I was assured that it could be done here in Mbale; no problem. So I approached Dr Patrick one day saying it was getting to be time for the test. He told me he’d take me to Children’s Hospital, C.U.R.E., they have an excellent facility and the best lab.

I’d already met the administrator of C.U.R.E. and heard about many good things coming from there. The hospital has a beautiful facility and a very dedicated professional staff. The first Dr. I met was a very tall and handsome older man. “You may call me Zephaniah,” he said, as we shook hands. I looked at him and said, “Wow, that is quite a handle.” “Yes, a long name for a tall man.”

I had a chance to watch that kind and gentle man while we waited our turn. His face reflected a great love and compassion for children; he loved joking with them and their parents. The last family that day was from Kenya, they came to thank Dr Zeph for all he’d done for their beautiful little girl. Is that why, I wondered, this hospital is built so near the Kenyan border? So it can be of service to both countries? I’d have expected such a hospital in Kampala. I’ll have to ask friend Derek, the administrator.

Then it was my turn. With a twinkle in his eyes Dr Zeph said, “You’re much older than most of my patients.” I acknowledged the fact but hoped that the clinic would be able to help me. While patiently listening to my telling of what I needed to have done, he slowly started to shake his head. “I’m so sorry but we don’t have the equipment for that particular test here, no one in Mbale does; you’ll have to go to Kampala, for that test.” I looked at Dr Patrick and saw how surprised he was. He’d been so sure that the test could be done here. So we made plans for the next week.

Friday night came with a call, “Anne, my family in Kampala is sick and I need to go there tomorrow. You want to ride along? I’ll take you to the lab, but you will have to take the bus home.” Of course I said yes, while having visions of all the things son Albert told us not to do. Oh well, they’d already been broken and I needed this test. Besides, doesn’t God go with us? Getting to Kampala would take at least 4 hours.

We - Patrick, a friend needing a ride and I - left at 9 the next morning, with me bringing a couple of sandwiches, some sweets and 2 bottles of water. After one hour on the road we stopped at a fruit stand to buy fruits and vegetables for the family in Kampala. Those items are so much nicer at the farm than at the city markets; I even bought a kilo of not quite ripe mangoes.

About half way into the journey you come to what we previously have called “The Ugandan McDonalds.” Don’t get visions of Golden Arches though. This one is a long strip along the highway where people have large vats of extremely hot frying oil. They then take chickens which have been sliced length wise and skewer each half onto long bamboo sticks. Those are then fried in the hot oil, sprinkled with flavoring and offered to customers. Young men and women come running with handfuls of these sticks, hoping you will buy theirs. There were also sticks with what looked like beef or goat but chicken is the most popular. And they offered plates of fried bananas, bottles of water, and lengths of sugar cane. Each person was pushing and shoving more than the next and yelling for you to make a purchase. Make sure your doors are locked and windows opened just a crack should you decide to stop at such a place, they might just get in the car with you. Patrick must have seen my hesitation for I heard him say, “It’s OK to eat the chicken, Anne, just as long as they are boiling hot.”

And hot they were! They burned my lips. I wished they’d had napkins though, the grease was dripping. And they were good, more flavor than most food being served here.

On to Kampala, past Jinja, where you have the head waters of the river Nile, into the crazy traffic of the city. Long before we got there the traffic was often at a stand still. I could see Patrick shaking his head and hear him muttering, “This is why I don’t like coming here.” I just fed him peppermints hoping he’d stay awake enough to drive.

It was almost 3 pm when we got to Ebenezer Clinic. Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait long. I was so relieved and thankful that the test result was good and very surprised it only cost 10,000 shillings, about $6.00. I did have to wait 40 minutes for the results and wondered what Patrick would say; thinking he wanted to get to his family. “No, Anne, I was hoping to get you on the 3 o’clock bus” Oops, missed that one. His wife, Helen, had already called a couple of times, checking on how we were doing. “We’ll have to get you on the 4 o’clock now since that is the last one out tonight.”

While I waited, Patrick went to do some errands. On his return I heard him say, “Anne, how are you with taking the boda-boda? (the motor cycle taxis) We don’t have much time left. I’ll never get you to the bus by 4 o’clock if we go by car.” I still can’t believe I said “OK” while visions of Kampala traffic were playing in my head. As in the U.S., you often have concrete barriers at the center of 4 lanes of city traffic, giving the boda-bodas another wall to squeeze by or make two lanes into 3, while also dodging potholes. That becomes even more fun when you get to a traffic circle where every vehicle is for itself, trying to squeeze into a possible opening, often touching each other.

When I realized we were coming to a circle and my driver decided to swing around the truck that was so near the wall, I just shut my eyes and prayed all the harder. I’m sure I also must have squeezed his shoulder for that is usually how I hang on. Around town in Mbale I usually tell the drivers that I’m new and scared, and they better take it easy but there I didn’t have time. At the same time, my phone started ringing and didn't stop for some time.

We got to the bus yard with 5 min. to spare. Patrick, who was on a boda behind mine, hopped off, paid the drivers and yelled, “Your phone is ringing.” I could tell it was Helen and heard her say, “Oh no” when she heard where we were but I had no time to reply.

The bus yard was a sea of humanity, all pushing and shoving toward busses, many also yelling at the top of their lungs. On taking a closer look I noticed that the majority of those frenzied people were vendors, trying to sell their wares to the travelers; some even going on the bus while they were still waiting to leave. I’m so glad Patrick was with me to get me a good seat, one where I could stretch my legs. From there I could watch the final loading procedures, hardly believing my eyes by what I saw people bringing on board; TVs, (boxed or not), computers, bedding, (mattresses were tied to the back) , bags of clothing, you name it, it was there; one lady even had a live chicken under her arm. (Its legs were tied.) Every seat was filled and the rest of the space was crammed with stuff, even most of the isle. And then came the man with a wheel barrow loaded with sheet metal, some of it rusty; that also all went into the bottom of the bus. Unbelievable!

(At our Sunday evening Bible study the gentleman from Whales said, “That bus yard is the best example of purgatory I can think of”, when he heard where I’d been. He’s Roman Catholic.)

Finally we were off, and yes, I was the only muzungu (white person) on board. I had a Child Evangelism lesson book on my lap, thinking to study a lesson for the next day. Then I heard my neighbor say, “I’m a Christian, may I see your book? Of course he could.

I watched as he read and wondered if he understood what it meant. He seemed fascinated with the pictures and the verses in bold print, at times there was confusion so I asked if he understood what he was reading. Slowly he said, “No, I don’t.” That was the beginning of a lesson from Eph. 2 : 8,9. I don’t know if it all sank in but the young man kept on explaining to his very pregnant wife and saying to me, “Now I tell her.” Long after it was dark they were still discussing. Pray for the Holy Spirit to really open the Word to them. They left the bus one stop before mine and thanked me profusely.

What I didn’t know about bus services: they do stop at “McDonalds”, the same chicken place as in the morning, and people were still running and screaming to make sales (I had my own sandwich), the bus also makes potty stops. When we got to the outlying areas, the bus stopped and people started to get off, including my seat mates. I said goodbye but he said, “This is just a quick stop.” In the dark, one could not see anything but I remembered the many vegetable farms along the road in the morning (Free fertilizer, right guys?).

The bus was also stopped at 4 different times by police, who looked very important with their big guns on the shoulder. They walked around the bus, talked to the driver through the open window and then waved us on. Curiously, they never checked the driver’s license. At the first stop one policeman did come aboard to see if any passengers had to stand for the ride, that is a so called, big no-no.

We got to Mbale by 8:30. I looked around for a boda-boda, called Sam to meet us at the gate and by 9 p.m. I was home. Sam gladly paid the driver.

This day was one I have to remember - people have called me crazy but I see it as experiencing life the real Ugandan way. :)

Blessings, Anne

Student Questions

I promised to write to students in three schools - about my experiences and to answer any questions they have about Uganda. Here are some of the questions they asked and the answers I sent them.

1. What Season of the year is it now?

Uganda has only two seasons, the rainy season and the dry season. Each of them happen twice per year, or are supposed to but sometimes the rains don’t come and it is at those times that you hear the scary word ‘drought’. Right now we are in the rainy season and at times are experiencing heavy thunder storms with much rain but up north in Uganda and Sudan there seems to be a drought. When that happens, crops won’t grow and people are starving. Please, pray for them; that God will send the right kind of rains so crops can grow.


2. What do they wear?

I think you want to know what kind of clothes the students wear. All students have to wear uniforms to school and each school has its own color. So if you see a child in a green uniform you know which school he attends. Those that wear the grey shirts and brown pants seem to be from the school where you don’t have to pay anything to attend, where only poor children go.


3. Is it a poor country? How can you tell?

Yes, this is a poor country; probably not as poor as some but it is very poor. How can I tell? Many ways, let me start this way: we are living in the best area of the city but the streets, everyone of them, are just awful. They are full of pot holes, very deep holes and drivers try to go around them. So if you get a ride in a car sometimes the driver will go to the wrong side of the street or off on the berm to avoid the holes. You never have a smooth ride.

The road to the farm where my husband has to go is about 9 miles from our home here, ½ of that is very bumpy blacktop, the other half is a dirt road that is almost impassable during times of heavy rains. I sometimes say that my insides have churned to cottage cheese on the road to the farm.

You also have to be very careful when you walk on the sidewalks in town. There are many loose stones, or none at all, and a lot of places have garbage strewn all around. Dogs, goats and even cows come to eat the garbage.

Another way to tell is by all the times the electricity and water gets shut off; and no one seems to know why, it is just a way of life here and we are thankful when everything works. There also is no garbage collected here.

I’m going to finish this with an interview I did with a 9 year old boy named Chris. I met him during the lunch hour; students have 1 ½ hrs to go home for lunch each day and, yes, they walk.Chris goes to his mother’s little restaurant during the noon hour. Since it is not far for him to walk he had time to talk to me. His English is very good.

Chris is 9 years old and in grade Primary 3, or as they say, P3. He walks to North Road Primary School and has to be there by 8 am; he goes without breakfast. (He didn’t even know what the word meant.) His uniform is grey and brown. His mother gives him a coin, 1000 shilling, to buy a snack at school. He calls it a samosa, something like a donut.

His school did go on a field trip but his mother could not afford the 5000 shilling (about $ 2.65) it would cost for him to go.

His favorite book is "My Little Bible" which he reads a lot and looks at the pictures; he ran to show it to me. The book is a gift from his aunt. He also has a 4 year old sister named Wendy, she stays with her grandpa while mom works. Chris’ dad died a few years ago; he is happy that grandpa can help them. Grandpa has a farm with 6 cows and he makes yoghurt and cheese from the milk. He also grows green bananas, called matoki, and pineapple.

The afternoon classes at Chris’ school are from 2 – 4, after that he likes to play soccer with his friends, before he goes home. Dinner usually is rice or matoki with some kind of sauce, most often peanut sauce. If mom had a good day in the shop he might have a meat sauce. Bedtime for Chris is 9 pm.

I found Chris to be a happy and friendly boy who loves the Lord. He told me that he used to have a teacher who would tell them Bible stories but she moved away and the new teacher does not like to tell those stories. That makes Chris sad but now his grandpa and auntie teach him about the Lord Jesus; they also take him to church.