Day Twelve, April 26:
I misspoke about our driver, Anthony, yesterday. He is not Busoga, but Buganda. He confirmed that the Busoga people are very poorly resourced and a main target group for missionaries in Jinja.
He accompanied us to the Noah's Ark Children's Home (www.nacmu.org), where we met Peter Buitendijk, the CEO and founder. When we entered the property we thought we had entered a highly organized village, and security personnel directed us to the proper building. After we parked, a small child of about five greeted us and asked what we were there for. When we told him, he took Cindy's hand and escorted us to "Pappa," which is everyone's nickname for Peter. We were guided past huge buildings of western design and quality, and invited to sit on comfortable patio furniture outside a large, beautiful house. Inside the house, a Dutch man of imposing stature tended to business, addressed employees and dealt with someone on the phone, with all the appearance of a business tycoon or political leader of a small country. A few minutes later, Peter emerged and greeted us as if we were no distraction at all. He asked us our story and after showing slight amusement at our explanation, told us his. From his teen years as a misfit among his peers and exceptionally gifted bucker of systems and reinventor of wheels, aided by his wife whom he married at age 17 by permission of the queen of Holland, he started a life of enterprise and ingenuity, which flourished everywhere he went. When he got bored reinventing metal works in Holland, he began smuggling Bibles into Soviet countries. When that was no longer an adventure, he turned to missionary work, and since 2006, has carved out of this mountainside forest a complete village to sustain orphans and school children. With supporters from the US, UK, Germany, Holland, and other places, he credits God, the owner of all cattle on all hills with resourcing his vision for this enterprise. He didn't say how many children he ministers to, but with just under 200 employees, trucks, tractors, cars, intermodal containers, and thousands of acres of farmland and investment property, workshops, every level of school there is, and more children than I could estimate, he is a patriarch. He works on simple principles: if it's not good enough for me then it's not good enough for my kids; waste nothing but repurpose and reuse everything; use good business sense buying low and selling high; God's way works best. He uses the last one I mentioned as his first priority, requiring no less from his employees and business contacts. He is a wise man of enterprise, and he has obviously combined that with his heart for children quite successfully.
When we left Noah's Ark, we began to question the faith of ourselves and of mission endeavors which seemed to struggle, always at the brink of financial disaster. Peter's ideas pivoted on the supposition that if God is truly one's resource, His bounty would accompany His directive. Still, he cautioned that Uganda is difficult on new ministries, and said few last longer than ten years. Witnessing this vast children's project brought a strange mix of emotions that just left me with more questions than answers. It challenged the expectation that God's ministers live by daily provision and that blind faith drives beat-up cars and second-hand clothes. Godliness apparently does not require poverty.
Mukono, by the way, is considered the center for ancestor worship and dark arts in Uganda.
On to our friends Stephen and Gina Gant! These are folks we had heard very little about. Terri Terrill, a friend of mine from work told me she had friends who were missionaries in Uganda but knowing there are many, I gave it little thought until she actually connected me with them. The Gants invited us to stay with them in the capital city of Kampala, and were eager to introduce us to Wells of Hope, the ministry with which they are affiliated (www.wellsofhope.org). We followed the detailed directions to their house, and were allowed onto the compound in which their house and several of their neighbors' houses are situated. Warm smiles, firm handshakes, and the friendly barking of their sweet, silly dog, Molly, made us right at home. As we got to know one another it was uncanny how much alike we are. Not only so, but we discovered we were neighbors back home, with our houses less than a mile and a half apart. Stephen and I are about the same age, and he just retired from the Navy just before I retired from the Sheriff's Office. They made recommendations, encouraged us, and warned us about pitfalls of doing business in Uganda. We four had fun talking about ministry and the growth of our faith and relished the fellowship until yawns got long and eyes got droopy. I never know when to hush! It was tough, but I let them get some sleep, and we retired to our guest room. There were three.