Real Missionaries

Entry from Jack's journal
Entry from Eileen's journal follows

Meeting with Professionals
Wednesday, January 13
We visit the mission in Mbale to meet with Shawn and Dennis; we share some of the things we have learned at the church in Tororo and they give us some good advice concerning our relationship with them along with some suggestions as to what to do as we go forward. They claim that, having made most of the mistakes it is possible to make regarding mission work in Africa, they have come to a good understanding of what to do. I’m not sure about the “every mistake” part, but they have had remarkable success and it is always good to get some lessons.

We also see the relatively new Good News Productions International - Africa office. The facilities are first rate and the programs being made available in East Africa are impressive. We met Vince and Joy and they presented a bit about the work they have done and will be doing.

The Mbale Church of Christ

Lunch was tentatively set to be enjoyed with Shawn in Mbale, but late in the morning, we get a message from Israel, who was at the church in Kachumbala. He tells us that the church is set to prepare a meal for us and that “there is nothing I can do to stop them!” So, we take off for Kachumbala, about 12 miles NW of Mbale.

As we gather to depart, we get out a number of the Trane tote bags, these loaded with an assortment of goodies that were requested by the Mbale team members. This was at our invitation; we thought it was the very least we could do, to acquire and transport the little necessities and indulgences for this dedicated group of missionaries. It does seem that chocolate is high on most everyone’s list. As word got out that we were going to provide this service, I received a variety of additional items from family members in the States. These included dress up clothes for grandchildren, DVD’s, Bible study materials and toys. Shawn expected to reimburse us, but we had way too much fun doing this to listen to that suggestion! This transfer marked the delivery of the last of the items we had brought to give away, save a couple of soccer balls and a few extra bags. We were traveling lighter now!

As is the case everywhere we go, we are warmly greeted by the leaders at Kachumbala. The congregation is already in their small, rented church building and wait while we have a brief discussion of the program, which includes us delivering a message. There is an extended period of amplified, can’t-stay-in-your-seat singing. The choir led and the many children followed, clapping, swaying and singing. And smiling. It was as big a set of smiles as has been my pleasure to witness. Eventually, I was invited to introduce the team, but today, it was Bill’s turn to be the “big drum.” He delivered another good message that was well received, this indicated by some comments made by members after the service.

Much as it was at Butaleja, the congregation here has acquired some land upon which they plan to construct a new building and we went to see it. After passing through the small town, we entered into an area of mud huts. One of these was on the property that the church had purchased. A mother and her children (and a few others from the neighborhood) were out in front of one of the small homes. We stop and greet them. I ask Pastor William what will happen when the church starts building and he tells me they will not have to move and he expects the family to stay where they are. Israel tells me that with a well maintained roof, the basic mud, straw and stick structure could last 30 years.

We meet a family at their home - a mud hut - on the church property

Coming here and meeting the people is pretty much like throwing a rock - we land on needs. The congregation needs $150 for a year's rent. We gather and decide that we will provide this for them. The plan is to forward the funds to the Mbale mission. We talk about sending one of the leaders, probably Pastor William, to MTI for training. He says there are three that would like to go. We decide we can provide scholarships for two. We do not discuss this with them, but we will see if it is possible for us to take on all three. We encourage them to visit MTI and get information about enrolling. I hope they follow up.

The “lunch” that Israel told us about was actually planned as an after-service, after-visit-the-new-property, early dinner. And we do not eat until around 3 or 4 (I am writing this two days after the visit and everything is already a blur). You have to understand it’s a muzungu thing to take note of the actual time. We are quite hungry, but this observation is not intended as a complaint, just an offering of facts. The graciousness of the people here towards visitors is humbling and we often find ourselves deeply moved by the generosity of those who have so little. In a material sense. Compared to what is the norm for us.

We are led to a small building sporting a sign declaring it to be a nursery/day care, through a small room where bottles of water and pop are set out and into another, equally small, room that is nearly overwhelmed by the tables and chairs set up for the meal. There is a serving table to one side, a groaning board living up to this descriptive name as it is loaded with a marvelous, eclectic meal prepared by one of the congregation who has attended a cooking school. She must have gotten a really good grade. After prayer and a poem recited by a young boy in a slightly too large suit, we serve ourselves from a selection that includes vegetables, rice, beef, chicken, spaghetti Bolognese, and plates of different types of locally grown sweet potatoes. The latter come in white and yellow with flavors that verify they are of the same family as our deep orange yams. This is all finished with a fruit salad, a tasty mix of watermelon, papaya, mango and jackfruit.

Enjoying the afternoon meal at Kachumpala

After the meal, I approach Pastor William and tell him we have a gift - the $11 (about 25,000 Shillings) from five-year old Elli who wanted this to go “to a family.” William expresses his gratitude and says the church will find someone who needs this then let us know what they have done. Just now, about three weeks after the end of the trip, I received an e-mail from him, explaining that they provided the gift to an orphaned girl named Esther, who was able to buy books, a school uniform and shoes.

We leave for Tororo late in the afternoon. When we arrive at Milca’s, we have tea and not long thereafter, a full dinner. I am likely to spend nearly two weeks in a third-world country and gain weight!

I cannot emphasize too much how we are constantly taken by how graciously we are treated by our hosts. Our western view leads us to ask Samuel over and over what we can do to ease the obvious load we place on them. I know Sylvia has, behind the scenes, made some provision for us with her mom. But Samuel also reminds us over and over that it is an honor for the family to have guests and they will do nothing less than offer us the best. Graciousness. We are being taught a lesson here.


Entry from Eileen's journal
Wednesday, January 13
Heading to Mbale where the Messiah Theological Institute is located, we pass bikes laden with pineapples, bananas [350 lb-worth on one bike!], and cassava roots. One very young boy carries a yellow plastic jerry can on his head weighing around 42 pounds. Hauling water is a major occupation unless you live in a city like Kampala, Tororo, Mbale, and only then if you have running water. I ask about the banana leaves some carry. They are to keep bricks from drying too fast. Samuel tells us there are 60 types of eucalypti and over 300 types of bananas. I tell him there are over 2000 types of palms in the world.

We meet Shawn Tyler and Dennis Okoth, get a tour of the facility, and are given cold, COLD, bottles of water and soda. We learn of the plans for Livingstone University – land has already been purchased. They assure us they are willing to work with ministers we support and will help with Israel. We want to continue with scholarships. They also explain the pastor situation in this country and that Israel is not atypical. Money is important for power and leadership. However . . . they advise us on how to deal with things, that someone else besides the pastor, his wife, or family should handle the money. Israel should be accountable for what he spends outside of his salary. Also, there should be documents as to who owns the church building and land. Samuel will arrange for us to meet with the elders tomorrow and then Israel.

Samuel, Jack and Shawn at the Mbale Mission. Eileen and Dennis talk in the background.

We meet Vince and Joy Vigil of Good News Productions and see the solar-powered video machines they use. The videos are made in Nairobi and deal with topics such as sexual activity and pregnancy before marriage. Joy translates for the large deaf population during worship services. We’d planned to go to lunch with the Mbale group but a phonecall to Samuel tells us that “ a lunch worth having” is waiting in Kachumbala. We leave the many Trane bags filled with missionary requests [seasoning mixes, chocolate chips, M&Ms, gifts from family, baby items for Joy, etc.] and the group is excited. Sylvia, remember the glitter glue I just had to buy because every child needs glitter in life? Philip Shero was happy to have it for his children.

As at Butaleja, we are greeted with warbling and handshakes. This is a desperately poor area and is where OCC sent money for famine relief – purchases of rice and seeds for planting that will happen soon. Later we are shown the pathetic millet.

Lunch? No, even though it is 12:30. A children’s choir and then two men [one translating] lead songs and dances in worship. I am reminded of David’s joy before the Lord. The entire congregation joins the singing and dancing, including me. While Bill, Jack, Israel, and Samuel confer, I weave myself among the people dancing and shaking hands. This is one joyous celebration. There are people here from many church families and we are told that the three ministers in town work together. Bill does a synopsis of Romans. Later he asks if it was too much. Claudia’s brother who is a missionary in Rwanda gears his lessons for 8-year-olds so I tell Bill, “Yes. Too much.” However, I think some of the ministers here learned because I heard a few amens. The ministers would like teaching Israel tells us. We promise scholarships for two and maybe the third man later. Also, we leave a soccer ball for the boys. The girls ask, “Where’s ours?” We promise to send a netball.

It is 4 p.m. and lunch is served, created by the lady who’s been to culinary school. Oh, my goodness, was it wonderful – fried chicken, fried potatoes, sweet potatoes, greens plus peanut sauce, sodas, rice, peas, carrots, another sauce, fruit salad. After a young boy recites a poem for us we walk to where the church will build a building. They tell us, due to the drought and famine, they are months behind on their rent – $150/year. Rebels once displaced many of the people to camps and killed off the men. There are many widows and orphans. Later the team determines to give them a year’s rent. On the way back I take photos and show each person which brings grins. I hope to send photos to Israel so that he can use them as an outreach tool.

The girls at the church are still singing and dancing!

Another long day. We are exhausted, especially Bill still quite sick.

Rural Experience

Entry from Eileen's journal
Entry from Jack's journal follows

Tuesday, January 12
Around 3 a.m. I broke the toilet lid – couldn’t get it up fast enough and fell on it. Sigh. I am grateful Milca’s toilets are not the hole-in-the-ground type. Grateful, grateful. My back . . . ! 5:20 a.m., I finally get up for the day. Hard to sleep with Aturukuku School on my mind. When leaving a young mother’s four little ones started chanting, “Muzungu, muzungu!” I bent down to greet them and show the mother, holding a baby, my photos. When I finished the lady said, “Give me one thousand.” Confused I said, “One thousand what?” When she looked away I realized she was asking for one thousand shillings, about fifty cents. I didn’t have it to give. Samuel said later it was good not to reward that kind of begging. Later I saw him give money to a girl. “She’s blind,” he explained. I am having a lot of tears over many things. I think of my friend Claudia’s father who was a missionary in Zambia [Rhodesia] for 40 years. He had tears as he lay dying. “What will happen to Africa?” That, too, is what I think about. Africa needs Jesus.

The roosters start crowing around 5:30. Much of the house is up – Milca, Genevieve, Ronnie, Samuel, Jack, myself. The brakes on the van are bad, among other problems. Sam is getting the repairs done. Our devo is about hope. We finally head for Patewo School around 10:30, hours later than planned. Girls do a dance and sing about having no mothers and no fathers because they’ve died of HIV/AIDS. All the girls are older except for one precious little girl around six years old. She dances as well as the older girls! Musicians arrive to play traditional music for dancers, women and girls, showing off their skill and flexibility. A man with bells on his ankle stamps out a rhythm for the dancers. The instruments, the musicians, the dancers – they’re all amazing. Samuel tells us to give money to the “harp” player to acknowledge his skill and we are happy to do it.

This small community, where Sam’s mother Miriam lives, is amazing with its care for each other. It is strong in faith, members of the Anglican Church. The leaders tell us their wishes, a roof for the church. The walls of the old church collapsed in a storm so the church meets in the school. The people made bricks and built the new church walls but haven’t enough money to buy all the tin for the roof. Our team gives enough money to buy ten more pieces of tin. The building will be used as a school classroom later. Right now the school has 700 students and 18 desks. One teacher teaches 200 5-7 year olds in a 20 by 22 foot classroom. Incredible. Many of the classes meet outside but that is a problem when the rains come. We give the community a box of soap and one of bags of salt, the teachers gift bags, and the students soccer and volleyballs. As at Aturukuku, the children start playing with the balls immediately! We are given straw bags the people have woven. How do people who have so little find ways to give?

Many of the toilets in this country are holes in the ground covered by concrete with a slit in it, a struggle for me to use with my back issues. Sylvia told me to wear long skirts since most of the women here wear them, at least in the rural areas. Squatting on the ground and keeping my skirt dry . . . hmmm.

Bill talks to the science teacher who wishes he had classroom items such as compasses, protractors, a thermometer, magnets, cylinders. When heading to the van Jack is approached by two teenage girls. They’d spotted the two baby dolls in the duffel with the balls that five-year-old Ellie had given the team. Her dad works with Jack. The girls wear big smiles and beg for the dolls, “Please, please, please!” Jack says, “Why not?” I asked the girls if they’d share the dolls with the others and they say they will. As Samuel tells us to “pile up” I see them passing the dolls to the younger girls. A happy moment. We head for Sam’s mother’s house. A sofa and chairs are moved outside under the mango tree where we eat lunch. Samuel explains that the spongy millet bread here is “food”. In other areas matoke [made from a particular type of banana that is mashed and steamed] is “food”. The house is surrounded by beautiful trees – a massive jacaranda, an avocado, banana trees. Mosquito-eating lizards, agamas, skitter up the side of the house.

Soon we head for Butaleja, a VERY small village. Samuel tells Bill and Jack that one of them will have to give a short message to the church and that we have to eat if we are offered food. We are offered fruits and drinks. The people here believed in voodoo, witchcraft, and curses until Israel taught them about Jesus. Since then they’ve sold their goats and chickens to buy land for a building, have made bricks, and soon will be firing them. One young man, Richard, would like to get training at Mbale. We give the church soccer and volleyballs for the kids. They give us eggs, a rooster, a jackfruit, mangos, and maize. We are overwhelmed with their generosity. I read that westerners are more charitable than hospitable and that Africans are more hospitable than charitable. Not true.

Winding our way to this village on a one-way grassy, dirt road we’d passed a group of boys playing soccer with a ball they’d made from rags. As we leave Jack suggests we pump up one of our remaining balls and kick it into the boys’ game. He gets to do the kick. I will never forget those boys leaping for joy when that ball sailed into the field, especially the boy who was as tall as a man. They raced after our van to thank us. Is this a good time, or what?!!!!!

Trust? Trust is riding on the left side of narrow, Ugandan roads lined with people and bikes in the dark, Jack driving. Jack hits a man’s arm and we stop. The man is not hurt, just drunk. This scares me so much.

Rain cools us off but I am a wreck. Finally Samuel asks Jack to let him drive but I am still a wreck. A terrible road and too many vehicle headlights coming our way. Which one will give to the other? Watch out for the people on the roads! I wish, wish, wish the road was paved! Ruts! Ooph! Ooph! Ooph!

It is late when we arrive in Tororo. Dinner once again is after 8 p.m. An exhausting day. I feel bad for our cooks. I give Enoch a toy car to keep him from being so pesty. I mention the “women’s program” I am to do – Samuel has told me it will be here at Milca’s – and Genevieve does not know about this. Uh oh. There is a tension in the air and I don’t know what to do. Samuel tells us we can leave clothes to be washed – a boy has been hired. Ronnie, we learn later, washed them by hand. I asked Samuel why I never see underwear on clotheslines. Too intimate. You hang it in the bathroom. So I wash my underwear in Milca’s bathroom and drape it over the bathtub and around our bedroom.


Entry from Jack's journal
Our Rural Experience
Tuesday, January 12

Whoever believes in me ... streams of living water will flow from within him.
John 8:38

Flowing water makes stagnant water move.
African proverb

It promises to be a busy day and we get off to a late start as repairs to the van take longer than expected. We are loaded up with gift bags for the teachers at Patewo and a duffel with soccer balls, dolls and story books. The road west of Tororo quickly changes from paved to dirt and is rutted and pot-holed in ways that are clearly world class. There are people walking and riding in droves - the familiar “Ugandan mass exodus” So many people, going somewhere. Slowly, by our standards.

We are late getting to Patewo, although late is not a clearly defined concept here. People are waiting patiently. Again, we have the pleasure of gathering under a large shade tree near the church, just walls now, as the small congregation works to re-build after the original building collapsed some years ago. The church leaders explain the situation and throw us a curve. We have come to see what we can do for the school and now we hear requests to help rebuild the church.

We are greeted by the Reverend David Livingstone Oworo.

We did later take up an offering of 220,000 Ugandan Shillings, enough for about 10 pieces of roofing tin. This is another issue wee need to decide how to deal with. As we had seen in 2008, Patewo is ridiculously overcrowded with 700 students. There are neither enough classrooms nor desks. Some of us walk around the school while Gordy checks out the well - a pond in a low-lying area down from the church.

Students have access to a borehole, but it is often so crowded they can't get to it. So, they go without or go down and fill their yellow containers in the pond. Bill observed that you could throw a rock in the air anywhere in Uganda and it would land on a need. This one plopped right into the still, murky water of the well. We pull out a duffel with the soccer balls and give two of them to the boys. Again, we had purchased a netball for the girls. A few boys got right to the task of inflating and the balls were soon serving their intended purpose. The dolls that Elli donated were also in the duffel. The plan was to find a family with girls and give them the dolls, books and money. But two of the older girls at Patewo had seen them and were soon asking Eileen - pleading actually - if they could have them. We talked about it briefly and I thought, “Why not?” An opportunity. Eileen told the girls she expected them to share with the younger girls and they went away positively beaming, new dolls carefully cradled in their arms. Eileen said later that she had seen the girls passing the dolls around with a group of other students.

Patewo teachers showing off their Trane bags and the story books donated by Elli.

Next, we go to Sam’s mom’s house for lunch and a chance to relax on upholstered furniture hauled out of doors by young boys who are there to help out. Alex, the principal at Patewo, joins us and we learn a bit more about the church and school. Too soon, it is time to load into the van and head for the church at Butaleja.

We sit amongst tropical foliage outside Sam'e mom's house.

It is a LONG drive. Only 25 miles, but trust me, that’s a haul on the rough dirt roads. We drive through the town twice before we see the young man who has been sent to the main road to flag us down and lead us to the church.

The congregation meets in a home for now and we are first offered the chance to sit and enjoy some refreshments. In spite of the large lunch, we cannot refuse the hospitality and enjoy as much as we can of the fresh fruit that is laid before us. We then move to a room serving as the sanctuary where we are once again greeted with great enthusiasm. After hearing a brief the history of the church, I offer a short message. We then go and see property the church has acquired for a new building. The congregation had sold eggs, hens and goats to raise the money. And even more impressive to me - I consider building materials and Home Depot to be a single, unified concept - the people had made bricks from mud taken out of a pit on the property. They are arranged in large stacks and will be fired tomorrow.

The congregation has mde bricks for the new church building.

As we prepared to leave, we give a soccer ball, a netball and a pump to the youth of the church. Then, they give us a jackfruit, some eggs, corn and - of course - a rooster. I knew what to do with it straight away, being experienced as I am in such things. We piled into the van and headed out on the long drive back to Tororo.

Early in the trip, I told Samuel I wanted to give at least one of the soccer balls at random - just come across a group of boys, toss them a ball and drive off. He told me he had seen some boys playing soccer with a homemade rag ball in a field we would go by as we left the church. When we got there, we stopped, I got out and kicked the ball in a high arc into their game. They saw the ball as it was still in the air and just stopped and looked up. When it hit, they went wild, running and jumping and kicking the new ball around. Very quickly, they came running to the van; Samuel assured them that the ball was theirs and one of them said, “You gave us a very nice ball. Thank you!” Then, they went back to the game and we drove off. It was one of the high points of the trip.

I had been driving for a while and it was getting dark. We were still out in the country west of Tororo with a ways to go and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I handed over the wheel to Samuel. But I hung in long enough to drive into a small town just after it had gotten fully dark. There were people walking and riding around on bikes everywhere. Not an unusual sight, but add the darkness factor and it was not the most enjoyable of driving experiences. Then, a really BIG truck came out of the darkness ahead. There were no lights, just a looming shape. As I adjusted to this threat, there was a “thump” - I clipped a pedestrian with the side view mirror on the passenger side. He wasn’t hurt and after Samuel talked to him he just wandered off, apparently a little tipsy. The group opined that it may have been more him running into the van than the other way around. Maybe so.

Samuel drove the rest of the way in. I never told the group just how shaken I was. It was a lot. I appreciated your words of comfort. Thank you.

Necessary Repairs

Entry from Jack's journal
Entry from Eileen's journal follows

Monday, Monday...
Monday, January 11
Monday morning has us visiting a number of bicycle shops in Tororo town to purchase supplies for the service project at the church.

We buy a collection of parts that includes tires (they come in front-rear pairs), tubes, ball bearings and spokes. A lot of spokes. And grease. We bought so much that Samuel observed, “We are causing inflation.” The church has arranged for 5 mechanics to be at the building at 9 a. m. Neighbors are invited to bring their bicycles in to be fixed up as needed, this a gift from the church. Many have come and a number of the bikes are in bad shape. There is one lady with problems with her legs who comes in a hand-pedaled, three-wheeled special. We are glad she has this opportunity to get much needed repairs.

Mechanic working on the three-wheeled special bike

In the afternoon we go to Aturukuku where, among other things, the bike repair program is repeated for teachers, parents and students. It appears to be just as much of a success as it was at the church. School is not in session, so the whole program is different than I’ve experienced in previous visits. Even though we wanted to have more focused time with the teachers and parents, there was still the “ceremony.” The mayor and other politicians were not there this time, but a representative of the western school district was, as was the local Imam, who has come to welcome us back.

There were plenty of students for the letter writing project and some of the parents and teachers wrote letters as well. We had purchased paper and pens at a local stationer - a lesson learned: purchase some of what you need from local shops. I think of the lady in the Kampala Post Office in 2008 who thanked me for spending money in Uganda after I bought less than $10 worth of stamps. A lot of the people in the room were not writing letters, but they waited patiently. When the letters were finished, it was decided we would be better off outside and the meeting moved to the shade of the wonderful tree in front of the school.

Auditorium at Aturukuku: a broad-limbed shade tree.

We eventually hand over the bags with the gifts for the teachers. They were quite moved. Some pens, a calculator, stapler, ruler, pencil bag - six of which were donated by Kelly and daughters Katie, Olivia and Taylor. So little, yet one teacher was moved to tears. It's hard to grasp having so very little, even when you see it. We also give the Imam one of the gift bags Eileen prepared and later got one to Israel, who was busy with the bicycle project. Two of the soccer balls that Jay and Holli donated went to the boys; the girls got a netball we purchased in town. As we met under the tree, Shaban and Adrian recounted past projects, mostly for the sake of the parents, and offered suggestions - requests, actually - for future projects. Three young girls are introduced - the first three students to have had the new computer class, taught by a volunteer teacher. They are very proud. It seems a good, positive step for the school.

We head for Kenya to have lunch and buy gas (it is cheaper there), but mostly so we can just say we were in Kenya. However, the border crossing process has changed and Samuel does not have the necessary papers. We drive back to town in a brief but intense rain storm. When we get to Milca’s late in the afternoon, tea is ready. Not too much later we have a big dinner. There is no water in the house tonight, so bathing with the camp washcloths I brought will have to do.

This was the first of two meetings at Aturukuku and we will discover some issues that we will have to work through as we continue.


Entry from Eileen's Journal
Monday, January 11, 2010
We are staying at Milca’s. Hot and humid. I’ve brought bathwipes but we can also “bathe” in the dishpans provided. I get to use the bathroom Genevieve and Milca, Sylvia’s sister and mother, are using. The men use another. Genevieve served us a breakfast of hard boiled eggs, pineapple, bananas, toast, groundnut [a type of peanut] butter, and tea. This was a nice home once. Sylvia’s dad was agricultural minister and killed by Idi Amin because he was too successful and popular in that role. Milca tries to get by with her dairy cows. George and Ronnie have been hired to help care for us.

Fabian, Sylvia’s brother, eats breakfast with us. He is clearly upset about things that have happened in the past at the church. Something to deal with later. His 5-year-old son, Enoch [pronounced E-no], is here, there, and everywhere. Jack gives him a foam ball.

We purchase bike tires and bike repair supplies, and also hire 5 mechanics so that the church can host a “clinic” for the community surrounding the building. One woman who is handicapped waits on her hand-cranked 3-wheel bike. It desperately needs repair. There are many bicycles and lots of children. I give one of the larger kids a package of balloons to pass out and give another boy packages of Smarties before we head for Aturukuku School where we are to meet with students, parents, and teachers.

School is not in session right now but there is a fair number of people crammed inside the school. Jack, our spokesman, has brought [75] letters written by students at Harry Spence School. The teachers see that the students who can read get the letters. We provide paper and pens. John will photograph each student here that writes a letter in response. I mingle, doing “goodwill” with the parents, Bill and Gordy meet with the PTA chairman, Samuel runs errands. One baby screamed in fright when I tried to show my photos to her mother. Jack is happy he is not the only mazungu who has frightened a small child. I brought photos of snow, fall, and summer. Also my grandchildren. People were fascinated with Vera running – girls only wear dresses in Uganda and they don’t compete in track. They didn’t understand Ben being in a baseball uniform. They were amazed to see a little girl from China, my Jianhong. They marveled at Skylar’s long hair – almost all the women and girls in the rural areas had short, short hair. They puzzled over Lydia’s glasses. I only saw three people wearing glasses on my whole trip: the computer teacher, Milca, and Sicola from the church.

There will be ceremony under the large acacia tree rather than in the building we are told. Good – too many sweaty bodies in the school room. Lots of speeches: Adrian, the headmaster, Shaban, the politician, the PTA president, the volunteer computer teacher with his 3 “gifted” students who finished their computer classes. Last year John brought computers which has attracted attention of other parents who want their children at the school. And . . . here come the challenges, I said to myself! Shaban went on and on at length: the staff needs housing, the area needs fencing, the library needs windows and shelves, the land needs a title, the school needs internet service, students need uniforms and supplies. “The crawling of the ball is running faster,” he said. Also, “Mothers want you to cry because they send their children to school minus the food.” This was directed to me. We gave the teachers gift bags we’d assembled using Jack’s Trane Co. bags, also “footballs” [soccer] and “netballs” [volley]. The children started playing with them immediately.

One 3-year-old boy, the son of a teacher, begged and begged for one of the toy cars he’d spotted in our van. Samuel said no, not to reward bad behavior. We later gave a car to his mother.

The mechanics arrived to fix the teachers’ bikes we bought four years ago. Somehow 6 of the 13 are missing??? We discussed this and the other issues at length later, almost as long a discussion as the ceremony! Something[s] is not right with the school situation. We’d like to meet with the teachers minus Adrian, Shaban, and the other higher ups. At Milca’s we are served tea and roasted groundnuts. We thought it was dinner!

Fabian tells us [why he was not at the church Sunday?] Israel, the minister, appoints elders and then “fires” them whenever he wants. Also, Israel controls all the money. Something to ask the men in Mbale about how to deal with. Fabian goes to two prisons and works with the inmates. They sleep on the floor with no mattresses, have no soap to clean up with, and no clothing when finally released. Fabian has no Bibles to give the prisoners either. We promise him soap and Bibles. Dinner was at 8 p.m. I was surprised I’d gone 12 hours and not been hungry, but then again it is HOT, HOT, HOT. There was no running water this evening, a reminder to be grateful that we have running water at home.

To Tororo Town

Entry from Eileen's journal
Entry from Jack's journal follows

Sunday, January 10, 2010
We arrived at Paul and Rebecca’s lovely home at 2 a.m. this morning with Samuel – after the belt to the air conditioner broke on the van. Hot and humid here. The drive from Entebbe – scary! The darkness seemed to perpetually move because people walked the roads even at 2 a.m.! The people here are very black. Trust? Trust is riding on the left side of narrow, Ugandan roads lined with people and bikes in the dark, Samuel driving.

Five hours rest. Paul works for an anticorruption agency and has moved to Berlin for the next couple years. Rebecca joins him on Tuesday. They have offered their home for our use the nights we stay in Kampala. Our breakfast was a meal of finger bananas, pineapple, bread and honey, rice with peas, onions, carrots, tomatoes, and spices.

We are to be at the church by two . . . or whenever we get there. It is a haul to Tororo, 72 miles. A lush countryside with philodendrons, jacaranda, cassava, vines, roses . . . and roosters. We pass acacias, brick piles, mounds of charcoal [the main fuel], football-sized papayas, banana trees, termite hills, yuccas, marabou storks, Coco Cola signs, yellow, blue, and orange flowers, red dirt. Because red dust coats the landscape, everything looks rusted. I can see why many women cover their heads – to keep the dust out of their hair. The only buildings painted are those advertising cell phone companies like Zain. If you advertise its company, Zain will paint your building hot pink! The roadsides are lined with people walking to church, to market, to haul water. A steady stream. There are hundreds of bicycles and dozens of motorcycles. Samuel tells us the larger-than-watermelon gourds are used to process yogurt. My eyes water from the charcoal that is roasting meat and other foods. Uganda reminds me of the Dominican Republic except with more people. The whole area is dense with people, especially children, children, children. So many children.

A phone call lets us know we forgot the three boxes of Bibles Samuel bought yesterday so we turn around. Then lose our spare tire. As Samuel wires on the tire he says here you don’t smile with trouble, that would be irresponsible. He pays the boy who helps us a few shillings. Soon we are once again passing mounds of sweet potatoes, jackfruit, yams, and eggplants. Restaurants, hotels, shoe shops, and furniture shops are outhouse-sized. Whoa. We pass the lots of small schools, the Teletubby Infant Center, stalks of maize, egrets, tin fences, cattle with major horns, sugarcane, eucalypti trees, papyrus, hillsides of tea, and banks with armed guards. A mother wearing magenta walks by with her two small girls, all with packages on their heads. So many people seem to have huge bundles on their heads or bikes. The windows on the van do not open so we cannot take photos. A disappointment. There are children, children, children everywhere and people just sitting, or leaning. Bill is really sick and coughs and coughs.

We take an ATM break in Jinja. Also to buy several cases of bottled water. Gordy asks Samuel if our van is a Toyota. This is such a guy question. I would never ask it!

If you removed the walls from Festival foods and squished it into a tenth of its size, that would be the size of the “markets” we pass. Amazing. Roadside hazards? Baboons! Children play in the water of the rice paddies, lie in the shade of trees, climb termite mounds.

Finally, at 4 p.m. the church! Some of the women warble, a shrill sound of joy. The children sing a song of welcome. Jack preaches, then Bill does the communion, something we were adamant about because they rarely partake of communion. The trays had to be borrowed from another church. Later Samuel tells us Israel, the minister who was translating said, “I don’t know about some of this. I’ll have to check it out.” Bill then preached on what characteristics God looks for in people. He used Cain, Noah, Moses, Elijah, the tax collector, the Pharisee. [When our son called after we were home I mentioned that his dad had preached. “Yeah, and I bet he preached on Elijah!”] The awesome choir sang. A long day for these people.


Entry from Jack's journal
We Get to Work
Sunday, January 10
…keep your head in all situations...do the work of an evangelist.
2Timothy 4:5

Misfortune is sometimes just good fortune wrapped up.
African proverb

Due to the weather delays, we arrived in Uganda a day late. So, Samuel picked up Bibles on Saturday as we were still over North Africa. I had not gotten to sleep until about 3 a.m. on Sunday morning. Here’s what I wrote about the day that unfolded:

Up too early, but we did rise to a wonderful breakfast of bananas, rice and a complexly flavorful dish of peas, accompanied by Ugandan tea. We were soon on the road but not a mile from the house the spare tire fell off the back of the van. In what I’ve seen as a typical response, we quickly get help as a young man comes over to ponder the situation, goes off and returns with a tool to help re-wire the spare under the car. We drive on until, just a few miles later, Samuel’s phone rings. It is Rebecca; we have forgotten the Bibles. So, we return to the house. On the way, Israel calls, asking about our progress towards Tororo. Sam says we are just leaving Kampala, at least technically describing our situation.

As we drive, we discuss the upcoming service at the church. I go into my backpack to get my notes for my message. I cannot find them. I go through everything twice. No notes. For a time, I am at a loss as to what to do. Samuel suggests calling home, getting a copy emailed so we can pick it up at an internet café. But I finally realize I know what I want to say and it is just a matter of finding the verses, re-writing the outline and delivering the message when the time comes. I rest a little easier.

Later on, Samuel is pulled over for crossing the yellow line. He did, but pulled back over right away. The traffic patrolman was, however, intent on giving Sam a ticket. And taking his Wisconsin drivers license. Samuel gets into a discussion with him and I have visions of spending time in a Ugandan jail, and not as visitors with Fabian as part of his ministry! After we go through Jinja and get some cash from an ATM (things are picking up in this regard in Uganda), I drive the rest of the way to Tororo. I DO NOT cross the yellow line.

We arrive at the church sometime after 2 p.m. A good number of people are still there. Our arrival precipitated a loud welcome with the “wail of greeting” offered by the women, who are dressed in their brightly colored, multi-patterned outfits. Bill and I offer messages - the Book of Romans and “One-Anothering,” respectively.

My message went OK, even without notes. I had a recipe for posho that I couldn’t recall so I had to adjust for that. But my notes were just an outline anyway, so a relatively good outcome was unwrapped out of the misfortune of the missing notes.

In the evening, we packed the Trane bags with items we brought for the teachers at Aturukuku and Patewo Primary Schools in addition to those we brought for the mission team at Mbale.

Trane donated some totes that we used to carry gifts for teachers and missionaries

Later, I washed my first “load” of clothes in the basin in the bath at Milca’s. It is quite humid and even the quick-drying clothing I have is likely to be damp in the morning. There is only one cricket, one gecko and one unknown insect hiding under the basin.

Fabian’s son, Enoch (pronounced O-no), is fascinated with the dolls Elli gave us. He says that one was sleeping and the other sick. He also says “You dressed them.” I tell him that they were actually dressed by Elli, but he corrects me. “No. You dressed them!” Oooo-K.