Sunday, October 25th Hayley and I attended worship at Ndekye Church of Uganda. It was Hayley’s first time attending there, and they asked us to both stand and introduce ourselves. There was not much English spoken during service, as in the previous week. But a young woman playing the drums kept slipping us the references to Scripture so that we could follow along. 2 Timothy 3:12-17 was a major emphasis during service. And, as always, towards the end of the service was the auction for thanksgiving offering. This time there was a live duck and live chicken. I was tempted to bid on one or the other, but I did not yet know how to prepare either and I did not know who it would have been appropriate to give to, should my bid have been the highest. Hayley and I just ended up observing, trying to work on learning our numbers. We both realized we have much room for improvement in that area.
After church, the young woman who had been slipping us Scripture references invited us back to her home. Her name is Catherine, and we soon realized we were being invited into the reverend’s home. We met her mother and one of her brothers, Emmanuel. Her father was away overseeing other churches, so we didn’t get to meet him that day. We enjoyed conversation and were about to leave when Catherine told us that her mother insisted we stay for lunch. So, we stayed and visited awhile longer. It was raining again anyways, so it was good to stay dry a little while longer.
Later in the afternoon the sky had cleared, so Hayley and I decided to go for a walk to get some exercise and do some more exploring. We ended up walking all the way to the turn-off at Katara Lodge, which was an hour’s walk from where we live. We saw many people, especially children, as we walked. We didn’t fear for our safety, as there are many other people traveling by foot, bicycle, motor bike (boda boda), or automobile. Plus, most of the walk there was a woman with her children walking close by us. The woman was carrying a machete. I thought, “Never fear, as long as the woman with the machete is near!”
The scenery we saw throughout our walk was AMAZING! So much lush green scenery! An amazing display of landscape as various crops look like a carefully thought out patchwork quilt. Then, near the point where we decided to turn around and head back, we took in one of the area crater lakes. Looking far down we could see some fishermen and the many nets that had been strategically cast. Across the road we could see the expanse of Queen Elizabeth National Park and the Rwenzori Mountains far off in the distance. We agreed that photos couldn’t possibly do justice for the scenery we were viewing. You can’t possibly capture the 3-D of hills and mountains and the sunshine that breaks through everything.
As we knew dusk was nearing, Hayley and I decided to head back home since we knew we had an hour-long journey ahead. Towards the final length of our journey back a young man was walking right beside us. He didn’t impose conversation or forwardness upon us as some men and children do. But as we were almost back to our place Hayley said, “Let’s hold up for a minute.” We didn’t fear this young man or feel threatened by him at all. But, as Hayley said, “I think he just wants to be seen walking with us. But we don’t really need everyone knowing where we live.” Unfortunately, as we stopped to wait for the young man to move on, he acted as though he was going to pull out his most masculine of masculines and take a pee. So, we moved on and ended up going to the restaurant across the street to visit Uerinia, one of our friends we hadn’t seen in awhile. The young man continued on his way.
Monday, October 26th: Are you ready for some FOOTBALL?!?! Football camp began at 4:30 p.m. Well, Monday night it actually began around 5:15 p.m. since St. Michael’s had to walk to the pitch near Unique. We decided for the remainder of the week each school would receive lessons and practice at its own pitch, then would meet for the championship game on Friday. Thankful blessing: Hayley has experience with HIV-AIDS education! She has been a very valuable resource. So, we were able to separate and each meet with a school for the week. Hayley stayed with Unique. I stayed with St. Michael’s. We decided to join our girls’ teams during practices as a way to bond with the girls a little. We both had lots of fun with our girls, and we enjoyed lots of laughter with them.
The first night of practice I didn’t have my closed sneakers on, only my slip-ons. So, I went barefoot like the girls. It felt fun and free. Then I realized that I had stepped in something squishy. I looked down. Cow poop. “Eww!” I thought. But, that probably happens all the time. The rest of the week I wimped out and wore my closed sneakers.
By Wednesday, October 28th the championship game set for Friday was mounting with excitement. The coaches from St. Michael’s approached me and requested that we begin after lunch on Friday and also lengthen the playing time from 30 minutes total each game to 60 minutes total each game. Also, the boys had approached their coach to inform him that they were going to get up early before classes so they could run together to stay in shape. Coaches from Unique agreed to the changes, and the championship games were set.
Friday, October 30th: Game On! A SERIOUSLY competitive afternoon of football. All students from both High Schools were let out of class early to cheer their classmates on. A district official, the LC3 chairman, had arrived to watch both games, present the trophies, and offer remarks to the students. It was a much larger exciting atmosphere than I had ever anticipated. I remember as the afternoon began I kept saying, “This is so exciting!!!”
The girls’ game went on without any problems. Though it rained throughout the entire game, everyone understands: Once a football game begins, you finish until it’s over. The girls from Unique High School were victorious, 1-0. Still, I was proud of the girls from St. Michael’s so I went to shake their hands first before congratulating the girls from Unique.
Then came the highly energized boys’ game. Again…RAIN! RAIN! RAIN! No one seemed to mind though. Unique was the first team to score. As during the girls’ game, any time a goal was scored fans rushed the pitch with cheers and then cleared back to the sidelines so the game could continue. St. Michael’s would score a goal as well. Score: 1-1.
During the second period of play during the boys’ game, something went south. After a call by the official, a fight began to break out and people started to rush the field. I looked to Robert and Justus to try to read their expressions and at first I thought that this was normal enough that it would end soon. But I began to feel as though it wasn’t calming down at all so I told Robert, “If this doesn’t stop soon, I have no problem ending this competition. This shouldn’t be happening!” Before I knew it the LC3 chairman had run onto the pitch in the direction of the official and Robert followed him a few steps behind. A moment later, I headed in the same direction and found one of the coaches from Unique and sternly said, “If you don’t get your players and students under control soon, I will end this!” He politely nodded with reassurance and agreement, and then I found a coach from St. Michael’s and told him the same thing. I then turned and saw Robert and he said, “We’re ending this. The competition is over. We will not reschedule. We will take the boys’ trophy back.” The LC3 chairman was in agreement that this was a wise choice.
Disappointing. Disappointing for students. Disappointing for coaches. Disappointing for headmasters. Disappointing for COVOID. Disappointing for me. The week was not supposed to end like this. The week was not supposed to be about the competition. We explained the week before that it was supposed to be a friendly competition and that it was mostly about the HIV-AIDS awareness…not the competition. We were reassured that students would be respectful and under control.
I remember towards the end of all the commotion someone from one of the schools tried to reason with me saying, “It’s a cultural thing.” I replied, “I don’t care if it’s a cultural thing! This is unacceptable! I was reassured that students would remain under control, and that has not happened! If someone gets hurt, I’m responsible!”
“I don’t care if it’s a cultural thing.” Admittedly, not the best choice of words. But in that moment I didn’t feel like being sweet-talked. I wanted to be firm and draw a clear line to separate the unacceptable behavior. Plus, I was already well aware that similar situations break out in the United States. Situations which are deemed unacceptable.
Since the girls’ teams had participated in good sportsman-like fashion, they were still addressed by the LC3 chairman and the victorious team was awarded the trophy. There were plans to distribute sodas and biscuits to all players, but for safety reasons we did not distribute anything other than the trophy and the additional footballs to each school. The sodas are bottled in glass, and my fellow organizers did not want to risk them being turned into weapons. Everyone was then sent home.
Later, when someone asked Robert and Justus how the football games went, they laughed and replied, “The boys’ game ended in style!” The person said, “Oh, so a fight broke out?” (Definitely some learning points from Friday’s events.)
Friday aside, the week also posed some emotional challenges for me. Earlier in the week we were trying to get students to generate ideas for things they can do when they are not in school so that they can stay out of trouble. I was warned before we tried this that it may pose some challenges. I had asked a COVOID staff member the activities or options youth have so that they don’t get themselves into trouble. The best response that was offered was that it depends on the family they come from. “That’s it?” In my mind that wasn’t a good enough answer. But it seems to be reality.
A few nights when trying to fall asleep I would start out being very angry. Then I would be very sad and frustrated to the point of tears. I have met with adults who tell me how they want better livelihoods for their children. That they don’t want their children to get into trouble. But if the children have no choice? Can we blame them for hanging out in a bar where they might get more attention? Can we blame them for having sex before they understand what it was intended for, if passion and lust are the only forms of love available to them? The best possibilities adults seems to offer are church choirs or church activities. I have yet to ask what these church activities are. And, I remember being a youth. Church choir only lasted for one hour each week. And there were not many peers my age at practice. Is it really something youth pick interest in? Also, what about the youth who are not Christians? Are churches the only ones responsible?
Another challenge has sprung from allowing the students to write down their questions about HIV-AIDS, which has proved very helpful with trying to understand what students are curious about. One may be, “Is it true you can lose your virginity from playing football?” Advised that it was actually a serious question, I couldn’t help but wonder what’s happening with sex education. Many others along the lines of, “What exactly is HIV-AIDS? How does it transmit? How does it affect the body? How can I be treated? Why is there no cure?” But the one that probably ripped my heart out a little, “If I’m dating someone who’s positive for AIDS and I’m negative, and we’ve never had sex, can I still continue the relationship?” No matter what I wish this student would decide, I had to maintain that the answer has to be a personal choice. No one can make that decision for anyone else. But I had to be very clear about the possible outcomes associated with the possible choices.
A week such as this has required the need for more concentrated prayer requesting patience, wisdom, understanding, faith, and grace.
Saturday morning, October 31st was COVOID’s end-of-month meeting. We listened to updates from all of COVOID’s current projects. Hayley and I were also given opportunity to update everyone on our first weeks with COVOID. It was an informative meeting, as I was able to get a better understanding of the roles and challenges of the community based trainers (CBTs). We waited at the office, as lunch would be served. I enjoyed some sunshine and, with outstretched arms, kept telling people, “I’m charging up my batteries!” I was able to have some conversation with Benjamin, once of COVOID’s CBTs, as I have not had much opportunity to speak with him yet. We discussed some of the similarities and differences between the United States and Uganda, as he picked interest in wanting to know more. All in all, a great ending to an eventful week.
Monday, November 2, 2009
I'm From O-HEE-O
Sunday, October 18th was a very rainy day. I had plans to worship at a Protestant church just up the main road at Ndekye [pronounced: en DEH chā]. Robert had sent word that we would still be able to go if the rain let up a little. The rain eventually did let up and we were able to make the walk. If I were to give directions, it would go something like this: Head up the main road towards the direction of Kampala. Once you get to the football pitch (soccer field), turn right and follow the path up the hill. (It’s not a far walk.)
What a muddy mess! My shoes were caked with mud and for some reason I kept choosing to step in the most slippery of places. Multiply that by the fact that a short distance you’re walking uphill. Fun times.
We arrived at Ndekye Church of Uganda and, after cleaning as much mud from my shoes as possible, we made our way inside. A woman welcomed us to sit near the front, off to the side a bit. Apparently it’s custom to welcome visitors to sit up front.
This Sunday happened to be a special service, a special dedication of Senior-4 students as they are about to sit for final exams. And I was finding some comfort as part of the service was being conducted in English.
As visitors, Robert and I were asked to introduce ourselves to the congregation. No problem for Robert. As for me, it seemed as though after finishing every sentence everyone was laughing at me. I found this to be a bit discouraging, so I sort of stopped talking after finishing a sentence mid-thought and sat down. I wouldn’t have thought much of it, but Robert was laughing too! I asked him, “I’m sorry. What did I say?! What did I do?!” He told me it was my American accent. They aren’t used to it. And, apparently, they really didn’t understand a word I was saying. They didn’t even understand what my name was when I introduced myself. (“Nicole” isn’t a familiar name here.) Oh well, at least I offered some comedic relief for the day.
I enjoyed the singing and message during worship. I appreciated the reverend preaching about how we are not to live for “the good life,” but we are to live with thoughts of the Kingdom of God in mind.
After church I returned home to find that Hayley already had lunch underway. (Awesome.) I told her she missed out on the muddy road and then showed her my shoes.
It began to rain hard after lunch, so I used it as an opportunity to wash my shoes. The rain overflows at the corner where the gutter ends, streaming down like a small waterfall. So, I took my large wash basin and filled it up, threw my shoes in, and…scrub-a-dub-dub! Brenda, my neighbor girl, was also outside during the hard rain. As she was washing dishes, she would occasionally take a large wash basin full of rainwater and pour it over herself, just for fun. So I motioned to her, asking if I could fill my tub full of rainwater and pour it on her. “Yes!” she said. We both screamed with laughter as I would drench her with more water. Luckily for me she had no intention of “paybacks.” It ended up being a fun afternoon.
Monday, October 19th it was time to begin preparing for the first football (soccer) camp. I worked on brief HIV-AIDS lessons, relating them to concepts about the game of football.
Day 1 – Football: A Game For Everyone; HIV: A Virus That Can Affect Anyone
Day 2 – Red Cards In Football; Red Cards With HIV-AIDS: Lies & Myths
Day 3 – Substitutions; Alternatives & Substitutions For Trouble: Fun & Safe Activities
Day 4 – Not Everything Seems Fair; HIV: A Virus With No Cure, A Life Filled With Hope
Day 5 – Final Minutes; Decision Time
Early in the week I met with the headmasters of Unique High School and St. Michael’s Secondary School. These would be the two schools participating in the first football camp.
One morning, Robert and Justus went with me and gave me an introduction to the headmaster and a few staff at Unique High School. Unique High School is a neighbor to COVOID, and all staff seem to be on free and friendly terms. My American accent may have been slightly difficult to listen to, but the headmaster was very understanding and picked interest in using the game of football to implement HIV-AIDS education and awareness.
That same afternoon, Justus and I walked up to St. Michael’s. St. Michael’s headmaster picked interest as well. I have to admit, though, he was a bit intimidating to speak with. (We’ll just leave it at that.)
As we were making our way back from St. Michael’s, Justus and I were walking among a small herd of cattle grazing and crossing the road we were traveling by foot. He asked, “You do not fear the cows?” I said, “No, I grew up on a road that had cows. I do not fear them. But please, don’t provoke them!” Many of the cattle in the area have some seriously long horns. Justus nodded towards one with long horns and teased, “One like that may charge you.” Again, but more quietly I pleaded, “Please, don’t provoke a cow with horns!”
A couple of days later, we returned to the schools to speak with the games teachers to be certain the format would work well and find out if they had any additional thoughts or recommendations. We met with Gerald of Unique High School first. He was very supportive of the football camp.
Later that day we met with Paul and Alex from St. Michael’s. They were both supportive as well. As our meeting was about to conclude, the sky began to pour down a hard rain. Since we were meeting outside under a tree, Justus and I took shelter with Paul and Alex in the faculty lounge. There I met a few other staff from St. Michael’s. They were told I am from America so they asked me which state I am from. “Ohio!” I said. That brought up an interesting learning point. Something that Ben, Grace, and the rest of the COVOID staff had been made aware of upon meeting me as well. In Uganda they teach and learn about different states and regions in the United States. Upon hearing my pronunciation of “Ohio” one teacher said, “Oh! Here we’ve been pronouncing it [o HEE o]. Now we know to pronounce it [o Hī o]!” (Awesome. Instant geography lesson.)
Switching from geography lesson to cooking lesson…Hayley and I attempted making g-nut sauce one evening for dinner. Ingredients: boiling water, g-nut powder (crushed peanuts), and a vegetable (such as tomatoes, onions, and/or eggplant). Hayley pretty much took command of making the sauce since she’d actually tasted it before. After cooking it for about 25 minutes, we spooned it over a plate of macrons (spaghetti). We both agreed that though it tasted good, it could have been a little thicker and perhaps had a little more salt. We had NO problem eating it though. G-nut sauce…Mmm! What’s next on our menu? Hayley found a recipe for fried grasshoppers. She asked, “Ya up for it?” I said, “Sure!” She found out from one of our COVOID friends that fried grasshoppers are actually seasonal. November-December is the season for grasshoppers and fried grasshoppers can be found already prepared, ready to eat. We’re both looking forward to eating fried grasshoppers this November or December!
Friday afternoon, October 23rd Grace and I made a trip to Ishaka to take care of some business matters. We traveled by taxi and Hayley joined us, as she was traveling on further to Mbarara for a dinner meeting. Taxi: A very crowded van ride. Five or six rows of passengers that should only seat three passengers across actually seats four passengers across. And, sometimes one or two people riding on someone’s lap if they sit near the door. Add to that a driver that drives too fast. Hayley and I just kept looking at each other, laughing in disbelief and praying for traveling mercies most of the way. It was a new experience for both of us, and I think we were both relieved we had another American to experience it with. Someone to look at and laugh as if to say, “Okay, so it’s not just me…”
Grace and I departed Hayley at Ishaka and the taxi kept moving with my fellow American to Mbarara. Grace and I took care of what business we needed to tend to and then waited for the next taxi headed back towards Nyakasharu. Basically, one direction’s final destination is Mbarara and the other direction’s final destination is Kasese. We were now headed towards Kasese.
While we were waiting, Grace purchased some pancakes from a roadside seller. Basically, pancakes taste like thin banana pancakes about the size of a cut-out sugar cookie. You buy them warm and eat them with your hand “as is.” No putting butter or syrup on top. No need for a fork or a knife. A nice, warm, tasty treat. Grace pointed out that she usually buys from the same guy, because she usually buys four stacks at 500 Uganda shillings each, then he gives her an extra stack of pancakes. She usually buys a few to take back to the COVOID office because everyone loves them so much. Anytime Grace arrives at the office after having stopped at Ishaka, she’s expected to have some pancakes to share!
Saturday, October 24th Justus and I had to make an important trip to Mbarara. Why was it important? Because Monday we were beginning football camp, but had yet to purchase the footballs. Two schools, 64 students total, no footballs. “Houston, we have a problem.” One of the things I’ve liked about being here in Uganda: Any time I’ve thought there may be a problem with a particular issue, I’ve always been reassured by someone, “It’s no problem. Everything will work out as it’s supposed to.” It’s proven to be true every time.
The actual delay in purchasing the sports equipment was due to some funds that were still in the process of being transferred. Enough funds were on hand to purchase half of the footballs, two trophies, and eight whistles. The remaining balls could be picked up the next week before the conclusion of camp. Only a few balls were to be used during the week. The remaining balls were to be released to the schools for sustainability purposes. No problem.
I didn’t fear this taxi ride to Mbarara quite like I did my first trip to Ishaka. Probably because the return trip from Ishaka was good. We had a good driver and Grace and I were seated up front with the driver.
But our Saturday morning trip to Mbarara proved to be another interesting ride. Justus and I were seated towards the back, and eventually the final row since we were traveling all the way to Mbarara. Knowing well that we were seated squished together and I may have felt uncomfortable, Justus asked me, “Are you comfortable?” I replied, “I’m okay. I’m surprised I don’t have someone seated on my lap already!” We both laughed. We would laugh most times someone new boarded the taxi wondering, “Where are they going to sit?” I think at one point the conductor was sitting on the lap of someone who was already sitting on the lap of someone else. (A hilarious site.) Sometimes I would think to myself, “It’s a good thing Justus and I are both skinny…too bad my rear end couldn’t be a bit smaller!”
As far as people sitting on the laps of others is concerned, Justus explained that it depends on what’s inside the heart of someone. If your heart tells you it’s okay for someone to ride on your lap, then someone may ride on your lap. If your heart tells you it’s not okay for someone to ride on your lap, then you have the right to refuse someone riding on your lap. What does MY heart tell ME? Hasn’t been an issue yet. The majority of the time they’ve sent this skinny white chick to the rear of the taxi. But I’m thinking I’d be inclined to refused based on the fact that I’d probably run out of breath from laughing so hard.
After arriving in Mbarara, we made a pit stop at a public restroom and then weaved our way through a few streets and buildings before arriving at the stationary store where we purchased the sports equipment and trophies. Don’t ask me which streets or buildings we moved through. I was too busy gawking at the sites of things such as something I like to refer to as “Tailor Alley.” All kinds of tailors and seamstresses in the same area. I thought it looked pretty neat.
After negotiating wholesale pricing for the footballs, Justus spelled out my name for the clerk to write on the receipt. Another clerk asked, “Are you the Nicole from MTV?” “No, I’m not the Nicole from MTV,” I replied. I had no idea who the Nicole from MTV might actually be. (Later discussion with Hayley, she thought maybe Nicole Richie?)
A man from the stationary store carried the box of footballs as we made our way to the taxi park for our return trip to Nyakasharu. We were getting ready to board a taxi when a man from a different taxi grabbed the box of footballs and said, “Follow me.” So, being that he had our footballs, Justus and I followed him back to the main road where we boarded his taxi. It was a little slow leaving town, as the conductor was trying to round up some more passengers. But soon, we were finally on our way. A much better driver, and slightly more room to breathe.
The only other major excitement I can recall from the week was the evening a goat made its way into our compound area and wouldn’t leave. Hayley and I live with our neighbors in an area of space that’s protected by brick walls and a large heavy solid metal gate door. Sometimes as the door is not completely closed during daylight hours an animal may stray in, such as a goat or chicken. One evening a goat found its way inside our compound and wasn’t getting the hint of how to get out. We all kept chasing it, trying to get it to leave through the door it came through, the only way out. But it kept circling the building. Brenda even tried throwing a ball at it to get it to leave.
Darkness was soon falling, and we would see it and then we wouldn’t see it. Hayley and I were having a conversation and then it appeared out of nowhere and I screamed, thinking it was going to run right into us. I probably wouldn’t be afraid of a goat, but seeing all the roaming goats do and all of the garbage some of them eat…all I could think of was that I didn’t need to risk getting some sort of strange nasty parasite from a goat. Otherwise, I would have been tempted to try to tackle or straddle it…leading it out as if riding a horse. But, I wasn’t so brave that night. And I kept letting out a brief scream every time it startled me. I remember the one time we were chasing it and it ran right in front of all of our doors. All I could think of was, “I hope it doesn’t run into someone’s home! That could get messy!”
I think soon after I locked my door for the night some neighbor men were able to finally get the goat to leave. I remember hearing a lot of commotion and the door slamming closed. Then, finally, peace and quiet.
What a muddy mess! My shoes were caked with mud and for some reason I kept choosing to step in the most slippery of places. Multiply that by the fact that a short distance you’re walking uphill. Fun times.
We arrived at Ndekye Church of Uganda and, after cleaning as much mud from my shoes as possible, we made our way inside. A woman welcomed us to sit near the front, off to the side a bit. Apparently it’s custom to welcome visitors to sit up front.
This Sunday happened to be a special service, a special dedication of Senior-4 students as they are about to sit for final exams. And I was finding some comfort as part of the service was being conducted in English.
As visitors, Robert and I were asked to introduce ourselves to the congregation. No problem for Robert. As for me, it seemed as though after finishing every sentence everyone was laughing at me. I found this to be a bit discouraging, so I sort of stopped talking after finishing a sentence mid-thought and sat down. I wouldn’t have thought much of it, but Robert was laughing too! I asked him, “I’m sorry. What did I say?! What did I do?!” He told me it was my American accent. They aren’t used to it. And, apparently, they really didn’t understand a word I was saying. They didn’t even understand what my name was when I introduced myself. (“Nicole” isn’t a familiar name here.) Oh well, at least I offered some comedic relief for the day.
I enjoyed the singing and message during worship. I appreciated the reverend preaching about how we are not to live for “the good life,” but we are to live with thoughts of the Kingdom of God in mind.
After church I returned home to find that Hayley already had lunch underway. (Awesome.) I told her she missed out on the muddy road and then showed her my shoes.
It began to rain hard after lunch, so I used it as an opportunity to wash my shoes. The rain overflows at the corner where the gutter ends, streaming down like a small waterfall. So, I took my large wash basin and filled it up, threw my shoes in, and…scrub-a-dub-dub! Brenda, my neighbor girl, was also outside during the hard rain. As she was washing dishes, she would occasionally take a large wash basin full of rainwater and pour it over herself, just for fun. So I motioned to her, asking if I could fill my tub full of rainwater and pour it on her. “Yes!” she said. We both screamed with laughter as I would drench her with more water. Luckily for me she had no intention of “paybacks.” It ended up being a fun afternoon.
Monday, October 19th it was time to begin preparing for the first football (soccer) camp. I worked on brief HIV-AIDS lessons, relating them to concepts about the game of football.
Day 1 – Football: A Game For Everyone; HIV: A Virus That Can Affect Anyone
Day 2 – Red Cards In Football; Red Cards With HIV-AIDS: Lies & Myths
Day 3 – Substitutions; Alternatives & Substitutions For Trouble: Fun & Safe Activities
Day 4 – Not Everything Seems Fair; HIV: A Virus With No Cure, A Life Filled With Hope
Day 5 – Final Minutes; Decision Time
Early in the week I met with the headmasters of Unique High School and St. Michael’s Secondary School. These would be the two schools participating in the first football camp.
One morning, Robert and Justus went with me and gave me an introduction to the headmaster and a few staff at Unique High School. Unique High School is a neighbor to COVOID, and all staff seem to be on free and friendly terms. My American accent may have been slightly difficult to listen to, but the headmaster was very understanding and picked interest in using the game of football to implement HIV-AIDS education and awareness.
That same afternoon, Justus and I walked up to St. Michael’s. St. Michael’s headmaster picked interest as well. I have to admit, though, he was a bit intimidating to speak with. (We’ll just leave it at that.)
As we were making our way back from St. Michael’s, Justus and I were walking among a small herd of cattle grazing and crossing the road we were traveling by foot. He asked, “You do not fear the cows?” I said, “No, I grew up on a road that had cows. I do not fear them. But please, don’t provoke them!” Many of the cattle in the area have some seriously long horns. Justus nodded towards one with long horns and teased, “One like that may charge you.” Again, but more quietly I pleaded, “Please, don’t provoke a cow with horns!”
A couple of days later, we returned to the schools to speak with the games teachers to be certain the format would work well and find out if they had any additional thoughts or recommendations. We met with Gerald of Unique High School first. He was very supportive of the football camp.
Later that day we met with Paul and Alex from St. Michael’s. They were both supportive as well. As our meeting was about to conclude, the sky began to pour down a hard rain. Since we were meeting outside under a tree, Justus and I took shelter with Paul and Alex in the faculty lounge. There I met a few other staff from St. Michael’s. They were told I am from America so they asked me which state I am from. “Ohio!” I said. That brought up an interesting learning point. Something that Ben, Grace, and the rest of the COVOID staff had been made aware of upon meeting me as well. In Uganda they teach and learn about different states and regions in the United States. Upon hearing my pronunciation of “Ohio” one teacher said, “Oh! Here we’ve been pronouncing it [o HEE o]. Now we know to pronounce it [o Hī o]!” (Awesome. Instant geography lesson.)
Switching from geography lesson to cooking lesson…Hayley and I attempted making g-nut sauce one evening for dinner. Ingredients: boiling water, g-nut powder (crushed peanuts), and a vegetable (such as tomatoes, onions, and/or eggplant). Hayley pretty much took command of making the sauce since she’d actually tasted it before. After cooking it for about 25 minutes, we spooned it over a plate of macrons (spaghetti). We both agreed that though it tasted good, it could have been a little thicker and perhaps had a little more salt. We had NO problem eating it though. G-nut sauce…Mmm! What’s next on our menu? Hayley found a recipe for fried grasshoppers. She asked, “Ya up for it?” I said, “Sure!” She found out from one of our COVOID friends that fried grasshoppers are actually seasonal. November-December is the season for grasshoppers and fried grasshoppers can be found already prepared, ready to eat. We’re both looking forward to eating fried grasshoppers this November or December!
Friday afternoon, October 23rd Grace and I made a trip to Ishaka to take care of some business matters. We traveled by taxi and Hayley joined us, as she was traveling on further to Mbarara for a dinner meeting. Taxi: A very crowded van ride. Five or six rows of passengers that should only seat three passengers across actually seats four passengers across. And, sometimes one or two people riding on someone’s lap if they sit near the door. Add to that a driver that drives too fast. Hayley and I just kept looking at each other, laughing in disbelief and praying for traveling mercies most of the way. It was a new experience for both of us, and I think we were both relieved we had another American to experience it with. Someone to look at and laugh as if to say, “Okay, so it’s not just me…”
Grace and I departed Hayley at Ishaka and the taxi kept moving with my fellow American to Mbarara. Grace and I took care of what business we needed to tend to and then waited for the next taxi headed back towards Nyakasharu. Basically, one direction’s final destination is Mbarara and the other direction’s final destination is Kasese. We were now headed towards Kasese.
While we were waiting, Grace purchased some pancakes from a roadside seller. Basically, pancakes taste like thin banana pancakes about the size of a cut-out sugar cookie. You buy them warm and eat them with your hand “as is.” No putting butter or syrup on top. No need for a fork or a knife. A nice, warm, tasty treat. Grace pointed out that she usually buys from the same guy, because she usually buys four stacks at 500 Uganda shillings each, then he gives her an extra stack of pancakes. She usually buys a few to take back to the COVOID office because everyone loves them so much. Anytime Grace arrives at the office after having stopped at Ishaka, she’s expected to have some pancakes to share!
Saturday, October 24th Justus and I had to make an important trip to Mbarara. Why was it important? Because Monday we were beginning football camp, but had yet to purchase the footballs. Two schools, 64 students total, no footballs. “Houston, we have a problem.” One of the things I’ve liked about being here in Uganda: Any time I’ve thought there may be a problem with a particular issue, I’ve always been reassured by someone, “It’s no problem. Everything will work out as it’s supposed to.” It’s proven to be true every time.
The actual delay in purchasing the sports equipment was due to some funds that were still in the process of being transferred. Enough funds were on hand to purchase half of the footballs, two trophies, and eight whistles. The remaining balls could be picked up the next week before the conclusion of camp. Only a few balls were to be used during the week. The remaining balls were to be released to the schools for sustainability purposes. No problem.
I didn’t fear this taxi ride to Mbarara quite like I did my first trip to Ishaka. Probably because the return trip from Ishaka was good. We had a good driver and Grace and I were seated up front with the driver.
But our Saturday morning trip to Mbarara proved to be another interesting ride. Justus and I were seated towards the back, and eventually the final row since we were traveling all the way to Mbarara. Knowing well that we were seated squished together and I may have felt uncomfortable, Justus asked me, “Are you comfortable?” I replied, “I’m okay. I’m surprised I don’t have someone seated on my lap already!” We both laughed. We would laugh most times someone new boarded the taxi wondering, “Where are they going to sit?” I think at one point the conductor was sitting on the lap of someone who was already sitting on the lap of someone else. (A hilarious site.) Sometimes I would think to myself, “It’s a good thing Justus and I are both skinny…too bad my rear end couldn’t be a bit smaller!”
As far as people sitting on the laps of others is concerned, Justus explained that it depends on what’s inside the heart of someone. If your heart tells you it’s okay for someone to ride on your lap, then someone may ride on your lap. If your heart tells you it’s not okay for someone to ride on your lap, then you have the right to refuse someone riding on your lap. What does MY heart tell ME? Hasn’t been an issue yet. The majority of the time they’ve sent this skinny white chick to the rear of the taxi. But I’m thinking I’d be inclined to refused based on the fact that I’d probably run out of breath from laughing so hard.
After arriving in Mbarara, we made a pit stop at a public restroom and then weaved our way through a few streets and buildings before arriving at the stationary store where we purchased the sports equipment and trophies. Don’t ask me which streets or buildings we moved through. I was too busy gawking at the sites of things such as something I like to refer to as “Tailor Alley.” All kinds of tailors and seamstresses in the same area. I thought it looked pretty neat.
After negotiating wholesale pricing for the footballs, Justus spelled out my name for the clerk to write on the receipt. Another clerk asked, “Are you the Nicole from MTV?” “No, I’m not the Nicole from MTV,” I replied. I had no idea who the Nicole from MTV might actually be. (Later discussion with Hayley, she thought maybe Nicole Richie?)
A man from the stationary store carried the box of footballs as we made our way to the taxi park for our return trip to Nyakasharu. We were getting ready to board a taxi when a man from a different taxi grabbed the box of footballs and said, “Follow me.” So, being that he had our footballs, Justus and I followed him back to the main road where we boarded his taxi. It was a little slow leaving town, as the conductor was trying to round up some more passengers. But soon, we were finally on our way. A much better driver, and slightly more room to breathe.
The only other major excitement I can recall from the week was the evening a goat made its way into our compound area and wouldn’t leave. Hayley and I live with our neighbors in an area of space that’s protected by brick walls and a large heavy solid metal gate door. Sometimes as the door is not completely closed during daylight hours an animal may stray in, such as a goat or chicken. One evening a goat found its way inside our compound and wasn’t getting the hint of how to get out. We all kept chasing it, trying to get it to leave through the door it came through, the only way out. But it kept circling the building. Brenda even tried throwing a ball at it to get it to leave.
Darkness was soon falling, and we would see it and then we wouldn’t see it. Hayley and I were having a conversation and then it appeared out of nowhere and I screamed, thinking it was going to run right into us. I probably wouldn’t be afraid of a goat, but seeing all the roaming goats do and all of the garbage some of them eat…all I could think of was that I didn’t need to risk getting some sort of strange nasty parasite from a goat. Otherwise, I would have been tempted to try to tackle or straddle it…leading it out as if riding a horse. But, I wasn’t so brave that night. And I kept letting out a brief scream every time it startled me. I remember the one time we were chasing it and it ran right in front of all of our doors. All I could think of was, “I hope it doesn’t run into someone’s home! That could get messy!”
I think soon after I locked my door for the night some neighbor men were able to finally get the goat to leave. I remember hearing a lot of commotion and the door slamming closed. Then, finally, peace and quiet.
Faithful
Let no debt remain outstanding except the continuing debt to love one another, for he who loves his fellowman has fulfilled the law. [Romans 13:8] Accept him whose faith is weak, without passing judgment on disputable matters. Who are you to judge someone else’s servant? To his own master he stands or falls. And he will stand, for the Lord is able to make him stand. [Romans 14:1, 4] For none of us lives to himself alone and none of us dies to himself alone. If we live, we live to the Lord; and if we die, we die to the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. [Romans 14:7, 8] We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. Each of us should please his neighbor for his good, to build him up. For even Christ did not please himself but, as it is written: “the insults of those who insult you have fallen on me.” For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you a spirit of unity among yourselves as you follow Christ Jesus, so that with one heart and mouth you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God. [ Romans 15:1-7]
One of the difficulties I’ve been facing here in Uganda is trying to explain my denominational background. The majority of Christians here are Catholic, followed by Protestant or Anglican. There is also reference here to “Born-Again” churches, which seem to have a slight bad connotation associated, at least as far as Catholics and Protestants are concerned. “Born-Again” worship services that I’ve ridden past seem to be more charismatic in nature, and are said to be more about getting people’s money than anything else. I still have some uncertainty about trying to understand it all.
As I begin explaining to people that I’m not Catholic, I usually hear a response similar to, “Oh, so you are a Protestant?” I reply with a response along the lines of, “Well, sort of. I believe my church denomination comes out of the Protestant Reformation.” Beyond that, any further explanation I could offer would most likely just turn out to be a complicated mess. I sometimes try to explain that I used to attend a Baptist church, as there are some Baptist churches here.
But how do I explain my personal history of being “churched?” That as an infant and toddler, my family attended a United Methodist church…then began going to a United Church of Christ, which ended up breaking away from the United Church of Christ denomination (then, technically, making it a reformed church)…then, during university studies I attended an Assembly of God Church which is Pentecostal in nature…then, attended an American Baptist church…and most recently, attending an instrumental Church of Christ/Christian Church?
I’ve tried giving a response that a mentor of mine is known to give: “I’m a Christian.”
“But what kind of a Christian?”
“A Christian, Christian.”
“No, but exactly what kind of a Christian? What is your denomination?”
“I’m a CHRISTIAN. I believe in the teachings of Jesus. That he is Savior, Messiah. I believe in the virgin birth. I believe in God the Father, Almighty. And the power of the Holy Spirit.” Still, that response never seems to be good enough or acceptable enough.
The best I can sometimes explain is to just say “Faithful.” I like to believe I am faithful to my God Almighty. Creator of the universe and everything within it. The one who grants mercy and forgiveness. The one who grants me strength and wisdom. The one who allows me to struggle from time to time so that I may learn the greatest meaning and importance of value, of virtue. The one who sent his only son as Savior for me and everyone else. The one whose Holy Spirit guides me in the ways of wisdom, patience, and understanding. The one who gives me confidence to speak out against what is wrong and not pursue evil things that can be so tempting.
Faithful. [Some days are better than others.]
It can frustrate me when my response does not seem good enough for man, so I try to remind myself of the above Scripture. Don’t lose sight of what’s important. Obey the greatest commandment: L-O-V-E.
So many denominations. So overwhelming to try to understand why. Jesus wasn’t Catholic. Jesus wasn’t Methodist. Jesus wasn’t Protestant. Jesus wasn’t American Baptist. Jesus wasn’t United Church of Christ. Jesus wasn’t Assembly of God. Jesus wasn’t a “Born-Again.” Jesus was Jewish. No wonder so many people don’t believe in Christianity. Somehow we’ve managed to screw up the greatest commandment. We fail insight from Scripture, such as the writings of the apostle Paul.
I pray for friends here and back in the states who believe that God is real. That God exists. But they refuse to go to church. Church is too corrupt. Churches just want money. Church leaders just want high status. Ministry leaders argue among themselves, or behind each other’s backs. I can’t say that I blame them for thinking these things, or for not wanting to go to church. But I pray that someday “church” is no longer seen as an institution. That it can be valued as a living body as it was intended (1 Corinthians 12:12 – 13:13). That worship service is not just a man-made mandate as a weekly opportunity to collect our money or publicly proclaim our struggles as petitions to God. But that a weekly worship service can be a social expression of our appreciation of God Almighty…TO God Almighty. That we can actually be encouraged by one another by worshipping alongside one another, rather than bored to tears listening to God’s message being preached only hearing what may sound like “Blah, blah, blah.”
I pray for my friends and the people who will be God’s messengers to reach their hearts. I pray that God will find them faithful.
One of the difficulties I’ve been facing here in Uganda is trying to explain my denominational background. The majority of Christians here are Catholic, followed by Protestant or Anglican. There is also reference here to “Born-Again” churches, which seem to have a slight bad connotation associated, at least as far as Catholics and Protestants are concerned. “Born-Again” worship services that I’ve ridden past seem to be more charismatic in nature, and are said to be more about getting people’s money than anything else. I still have some uncertainty about trying to understand it all.
As I begin explaining to people that I’m not Catholic, I usually hear a response similar to, “Oh, so you are a Protestant?” I reply with a response along the lines of, “Well, sort of. I believe my church denomination comes out of the Protestant Reformation.” Beyond that, any further explanation I could offer would most likely just turn out to be a complicated mess. I sometimes try to explain that I used to attend a Baptist church, as there are some Baptist churches here.
But how do I explain my personal history of being “churched?” That as an infant and toddler, my family attended a United Methodist church…then began going to a United Church of Christ, which ended up breaking away from the United Church of Christ denomination (then, technically, making it a reformed church)…then, during university studies I attended an Assembly of God Church which is Pentecostal in nature…then, attended an American Baptist church…and most recently, attending an instrumental Church of Christ/Christian Church?
I’ve tried giving a response that a mentor of mine is known to give: “I’m a Christian.”
“But what kind of a Christian?”
“A Christian, Christian.”
“No, but exactly what kind of a Christian? What is your denomination?”
“I’m a CHRISTIAN. I believe in the teachings of Jesus. That he is Savior, Messiah. I believe in the virgin birth. I believe in God the Father, Almighty. And the power of the Holy Spirit.” Still, that response never seems to be good enough or acceptable enough.
The best I can sometimes explain is to just say “Faithful.” I like to believe I am faithful to my God Almighty. Creator of the universe and everything within it. The one who grants mercy and forgiveness. The one who grants me strength and wisdom. The one who allows me to struggle from time to time so that I may learn the greatest meaning and importance of value, of virtue. The one who sent his only son as Savior for me and everyone else. The one whose Holy Spirit guides me in the ways of wisdom, patience, and understanding. The one who gives me confidence to speak out against what is wrong and not pursue evil things that can be so tempting.
Faithful. [Some days are better than others.]
It can frustrate me when my response does not seem good enough for man, so I try to remind myself of the above Scripture. Don’t lose sight of what’s important. Obey the greatest commandment: L-O-V-E.
So many denominations. So overwhelming to try to understand why. Jesus wasn’t Catholic. Jesus wasn’t Methodist. Jesus wasn’t Protestant. Jesus wasn’t American Baptist. Jesus wasn’t United Church of Christ. Jesus wasn’t Assembly of God. Jesus wasn’t a “Born-Again.” Jesus was Jewish. No wonder so many people don’t believe in Christianity. Somehow we’ve managed to screw up the greatest commandment. We fail insight from Scripture, such as the writings of the apostle Paul.
I pray for friends here and back in the states who believe that God is real. That God exists. But they refuse to go to church. Church is too corrupt. Churches just want money. Church leaders just want high status. Ministry leaders argue among themselves, or behind each other’s backs. I can’t say that I blame them for thinking these things, or for not wanting to go to church. But I pray that someday “church” is no longer seen as an institution. That it can be valued as a living body as it was intended (1 Corinthians 12:12 – 13:13). That worship service is not just a man-made mandate as a weekly opportunity to collect our money or publicly proclaim our struggles as petitions to God. But that a weekly worship service can be a social expression of our appreciation of God Almighty…TO God Almighty. That we can actually be encouraged by one another by worshipping alongside one another, rather than bored to tears listening to God’s message being preached only hearing what may sound like “Blah, blah, blah.”
I pray for my friends and the people who will be God’s messengers to reach their hearts. I pray that God will find them faithful.
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