Tuesday, 26 October 2021
Last night, a sweet old lady patient of mine died. I was told that, even in her last hours, she asked for me. I had recognized her distress when others overlooked it, and tended to her discomfort as well as her health. Even though we shared little language, she knew I loved her, and we exchanged prayerful blessings. At one point I noticed the oxygen tubing was causing wounds behind her fragile ears, so I fashioned a headband out of gauze and fixed it so the tubing would not rub her ears. Even after she was taken off oxygen, she still wore the gauze headband, because it was a gift from me. She was precious, and I look forward to seeing her again in Heaven.
This morning we received a patient who complained of abdominal pain. We treated her as quickly as possible until an ultrasound scan revealed an ectopic pregnancy. This is a critical emergency even America, but sadly she passed away shortly after the surgery. In the brief moments I knew her, I tried to make her feel cared for.
After work I met the adult kids at Team House. A couple needed encouragement, and I did my best to meet the need. As they left for their night classes, I began to do my laundry, but remembered just in time that Robert and Zam had invited me for dinner.
When I got there, Promise was cooking while Zam tended the baby and Praise ran about looking for attention. Robert and I sat together, talking, as dinner was prepared for us. As our plates were served, one of Robert’s students arrived for a piano lesson. So I ate while they played and Robert joined me when his lesson was over. Zam bathed the baby with one hand and ate with the other, while Praise continued to seek attention, crying when he could not find it. He is still too cautious of me for me to be of assistance. When I approach, he often screams, eliminating all attempts at peace. Strangely, this chaos made me feel more a part of the family than before, since the guards and pretenses of host and guest were gone, and I was just one of the family.
Wednesday, 27 October 2021
Today I went to work for a short shift. I preached the morning devotion again for the hospital congregation of about 45. I added onto last week’s “Belief without action is dead” talk with a sermon that started as cautionary about false teachers (like the one we heard Sunday) and ended with a summary nugget of Jesus’ teaching. We looked at 2 John 1:5-11, 1 John 2:4-6, Matthew 7:21, Matthew 5:44-45a, and finished with Luke 10:25-28 NIV, which reads:
“On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”
He answered, “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.””
Afterward, I checked with Miriam, my toughest critic, and asked how my annunciation was — whether I was guilty of using my American “lazy speech.” She said I had pronounced all my words clearly, and that I had brought the kind of solid Bible teaching they needed to hear. She even said I should become the hospital pastor! 😁
When Day Shift was over, my friend, Opiyo Patrick, and I went to Gulu. I needed to pick up the rest of my apartment keys from my landlady, and he needed to visit his family, to organize yet another family funeral. We decided to make an overnight trip out of it so we (and by that I mean “he”) could revarnish my new dining room set. Since it was my first overnight stay in the new place, Patrick said tradition dictates I must cook a meal. So, when we went out separate ways in Gulu, he went to his village, and I went shopping for pork, cassava, and tomatoes. When one is not used to cooking, and has absolutely nothing in the house, one forgets such things as salt or onions. The result was a meal that was anything but appetizing, but Patrick returned from his family meeting in time to rescue the undercooked pork and make something edible out of it. He even blessed me with a bag of salt.
The first night in my new place was uncomfortably hot. To keep out mosquitoes and bats, we closed the windows, but that also stopped all ventilation. With no power, there was no fan. I’ve got a great one, but it cannot run on positive thoughts. Solar power is next on my “to-do” list.
Thursday, 28 October 2021
I woke up to find Patrick on the floor next to the couch where he had retired the night before. He said it was cooler on the tile, and that I was going to have to do something about the mosquitoes. A quick shower later, I was ready for the day. Patrick had already begun varnishing the furniture, convinced it needs to impress Cindy with its shine when she first sees it. After a brief attempt to help with the varnishing, diligent perfectionist Patrick had me do other household tasks instead. He used to make extra money varnishing furniture for the vendors, and knows just how it should be done.
When the house was mopped, the bed made, the window tracks cleaned out, and the remains of supper were eaten as breakfast, we headed out. We made it back to RG around 1pm, and I got in a little nap. It was really a very restless sleep the night before!
The kids visited during their school breaks. There is a sad tone to all our meetings, now that “goodbye” is nearing. The fact that I will see many of them at Pastor Gitta’s wedding next week helps, but it was gloomy packing to leave.
I was invited to dinner at the Cessnun’s house, and the kids had a dinner theater show for me. It was a western, staged in a haunted ghost-town. They were great, and being part of their family is always a treat! It was especially hard to say goodbye to this bunch.
Friday, 29 October 2021
I am all packed to leave. I went to the hospital to participate in morning devotions and to say “goodbye.” I have been here five weeks, but it seemed to pass very quickly, and such was the sentiment of many of my friends at work. Several even complained I had not stayed long enough. I got a touching note handed to me by one of my friends, and hugs all around. I do so love this group!
Back at Team House, I was left alone, bored, and hungry, so I decided to go to the Canteen to buy some eggs. They were closed, so I stopped to check if my traveling partner, Robert, was ready to go. He wasn’t, but offered me breakfast, so he was quickly forgiven. Zam and Promise made us omelette sandwiches and porridge. It hit the spot!
The goodbyes that met me back at Team House were bittersweet, since they were really, “see you next Saturday.” John, my driver arrived about 9:40, and we picked up Robert, a sack of rice, and a bottle of liquid propane. John made excellent time and it was best if I didn’t watch how he did it or the close calls he narrowly missed to make that great time.
We arrived at The Tick Hotel in Kampala, where my misgivings about the name were assuaged by the comfort and amenities of this immense hotel. When I ate lunch at about 2:30, however, I started feeling poorly, and quickly recognized I was running a fever. I slept through the worst of it, then thought better of ignoring what could be malaria. I tested myself with supplies given to me by Francis, the lab technician, football captain, and all-around good guy. Fifteen minutes later my fears about malaria were abated. One more very sweaty sleep in the air conditioned room would find me as well as when I arrived. God be praised!
Saturday, 30 October 2021
It is Introduction day for Gitta! We got a late start, I’m told, because Joel had to pick up a cow thigh, the blood of which was still on the trunk lid. We had a quick breakfast from the hotel buffet and got underway. I am always surprised at the adventurous nature of Ugandan drivers. Not only does it take sheer courage too challenge Ugandan traffic, but we went down roads in a small Toyota that I wouldn’t even attempt on a donkey.
The hotel Wi-Fi was helpful to remind me I am missing out on the Florida - Georgia game today. I also got to see a lot of Halloween costumes on the kids of my American friends. There is no such celebration here. Instead, my Premier League football team, Liverpool (#2), will play Brighton (#5). I may even return to The Tick in time to see the second half.
Later…
Wow! The traditional Buganda Introduction was amazing in any language. I’m not sure how I scored a seat with the VIP guests of the groom, but I received a gold ribbon of honor and a place at the table right behind the groom. There were parades of women representing different groups, each dancing to their spot at a pair of mats in the middle of the courtyard. All the ladies danced lower and lower until they collapsed on the mats. The younger ones had the advantage here. Later there was a parade of men, but they all came at once and the girls had come in small groups, each group in matching outfits. Last of all was Paruth, the bride, dressed like a queen.
I got to participate when it came time for the presentation of the gifts. We emptied a truckload of presents, but for the bride’s family, not for the couple. There were boxes of every size, cartons of sodas, and everything from bags of flour, sugar, and rice, to chickens and a 3000 liter water tank, and, oh yes, the side of beef from the trunk of our car. The toughest, though, was the living room furniture. All the groom’s guests pitched in, and we all worked up a sweat in some of the fanciest garments I’ve ever seen in one place.
I was singled out to “introduce myself” but, thankfully, the emcee did all the talking. He announced that I had a new Buganda name, a traditional one from Gitta’s family — Kasirye. Whatever the name means, the fact that I was given a family name means I am an honored and distinguished guest, welcome in the family.
One last time, I got called up to present the bride’s family with a portrait of the Buganda king. There were five in my presenting party, each carrying a portrait or a plaque. I had warned people that, if called upon, I would dance the traditional Ugandan dance on my way, but I suppose no one believed me. When I began my dancing march across the courtyard, the entire place erupted into cheers, laughter, and applause. I was assured later that it was because someone from outside their culture was doing their dance and not because I was doing it wrong. I even got compliments. Apparently, not all white visitors dance. I got smiles and high fives from everybody after that.
There was a ceremonial presentation of the gifts to the family, which concluded with Gitta handing over a live chicken to a member of Paruth’s family. From what I could gather, this was the official transfer that the family would either deny or accept. They accepted. The bride cut the cake which was passed out to everyone. Afterward, Gitta and Paruth knelt before Paruth’s elders and signed a marriage contract, which Gitta danced back to his seat. Strangely, no one laughed at him.
It was a beautiful ceremony and Paruth must have danced around in at least five very grand gomezi (the traditional dress of Uganda). The whole crowd of about 300 was fed a big meal with both beef and chicken. When we left, I got to greet Gitta’s mother, Grace. She is such a beautiful lady with a giant, endearing smile, and a warm personality to match. She and I exchanged blessings, and I was, once again, made welcome, even as I climbed in the car to leave.
On the way back I tried to imagine what it would be like if I, or any American, was driving. Imagine game day traffic, on Halloween, after the end of fourth quarter, only pack four lanes of traffic into the two lanes on the road. There are no traffic lights or road signs. Rules are just suggestions. There is no right of way, just muscling in wherever you can. The biggest vehicle wins, but the smallest one usually gets around the mess fastest, and anybody on a Boda (motorcycle taxi) clearly has a death wish.
I tucked my head in and tried not to watch, as we navigated the mad rush of traffic. Suddenly, two and a half hours later, we were back at The Tick Hotel, where I was greeted by name. The desk clerk who knew Mr. Lemmon was also kind enough to send up a needle and thread, so I could sew on a button that came off my jacket today. It’s nice being in a nice place, even if it is named “The Tick” (pronounced Teek here).
Several back at RG have called or sent messages today, missing me and pleading for me to return. The biggest concern is the absence of Pastor Gitta. When he is gone, and Robert is not around to preach, the substitutes are usually awful. The older kids recognize it but would get into trouble if they skipped out. Please pray for God to send a true minister of the Word to fill Gitta’s shoes. That place needs someone who will preach the Gospel, not the will of men.