Friday, 22 October 2021
Work today was fairly busy again. We have referred some more advanced cases to St. Mary’s Hospital Lachor in Gulu for treatment. RG Hospital recently let go its orthopedic surgeon amid complaints about his bedside manner, and that has left us with little recourse but to refer out traumatic injuries.
I left shortly after shift change to meet the kids who will go with me to Gulu tomorrow, but none showed up. When I discovered they were being detained in a general student assembly for another character development class (aka: a good old fashioned chewing out by the head teacher), I went alone to the head of Child Care to obtain their gate pass. There would be seven of us in the van tomorrow, plus the driver and the 8-seat dining table and chairs.
Saturday, 23 October 2021
What a day we had! Nurse Patrick and I took Janet, Shalom, Prisca, Hosman, K-Morris to Gulu to shop and scrub the new apartment. David, our driver, managed to fit us all in, but he had to pay a fine at the traffic checkpoint for overloading the vehicle. We off-loaded the table and chairs, and let the kids tour the apartment, then all packed back up for our shopping spree in Gulu.
There is one major supermarket popular with expats, called Cynibel, where we managed to get many of the items on our shopping list. That was a convenient choice since that store is used to Europeans and Americans, and doesn’t charge extra for being white like most Ugandans vendors. They also accept Visa, so I could use dollars instead of my expensive-to-exchange Uganda shillings.
We went around finding this and that from our list, and Patrick was helpful to add a few necessities I had not thought of. The shopkeepers here were very friendly and even helped me find items they did not sell themselves, sometimes walking me deep into marketplaces I would never have found.
The kids were very patient, and even helpful. We took lunch at Hotel Binen, a a Ugandan buffet restaurant recommended by Patrick, . We each got whatever we wanted, and there was more than enough as usual. I got goat soup with matooke (steamed plantains) and millet. These kids are the ones going to Pastor’s wedding next week, so I splurged and bought each girl a dress and each boy a pair of new shoes at the Gulu Main Market.
We returned to the apartment and did a lot of scrubbing. The place has never been lived in, but it was dusty and needed a good cleaning. I got a chance to set up a few of the new items I had purchased, like the gas stove and pedestal fan. The power still did not work, but we look forward to the utility company coming online soon. We quickly discovered that the water was not potable, so we all got hot and thirsty working indoors.
About the time we were all exhausted and dehydrated, we piled into the van and went through town again, stopping at Cynibel again, this time for eight giant (3L) bottles of water, one for each of us. We quenched our thirst on our way to The Lookout Cafe, at Gulu University, home of Uganda’s best pizza, where several pies were waiting for us. Patrick had never heard of pizza before, but the kids have met enough Americans to know what to expect. We had a grand pizza party all the way back to RG, which is about an hour and a half ride.
Sunday, 24 October 2021
Last night I disappointed a few girls who had sent me little messages asking for things like I was an American Santa Claus. One asked for ice cream from Gulu which, as I mentioned is almost two hours away. Another for a suitcase, and another for a dress. It made me feel bad to draw lines, but I do not know some of these kids, and I think my purpose here is misunderstood by some. Whatever I am, Santa Claus I am not. At any rate, I woke up in one of those blue mood states, where reflection is the call of the day.
When I arrived at RG Church, a generally Pentecostal gathering of worship, anyone who was not dancing for joy to be in the “house of the Lord” was chastised and commanded to smile, be happy, dance, and shout, so I wandered off and prayed alone in the shadow of the trees nearby. I was disappointed that those who were wringing their hearts out before the Lord were not as welcome as those who were bubbling with joy, considering each is an authentic act of worship.
When the dancing and shouting was over, I rejoined the congregation, just in time to listen to the substitute preacher misuse Scripture to promote his own ideas. There is a dire need for sound doctrine here in Uganda! So many are misguided. Last time I was here a visiting preacher misused Scripture to advance his own profiteering campaign. This time, it was being used to keep people in line and instill in them a fear of a God who, just like He did at the Tower of Babel, would “come down and frustrate your efforts.” He spoke of the evils of making bricks, which every Ugandan tends to do just to survive, rather than using the God-given stones; of using tar rather than mortar; and of allowing people to call you nick-names rather than the name given at baptism (“make a name for ourselves,” Genesis 11:4). By the time he was done, my mood had gone from blue to fiery red.
Afterward, I went to the Spiritual Director, but she was busy in prayer. I approached Child Care Superintendent Justine, who is also the wife of RG’s Managing Director, Espirito. Justine confirmed an invitation she had extended to me for dinner tonight, then asked how she could help me. She arranged to have a gate pass written for Janet and Shalom so Janet could have her new scrub trousers hemmed.
When we returned, I took a nap while the boys’ team played a visiting team from the north. I wanted to watch, but I was just too beat from yesterday and, again, was in no state to enjoy festivities.
At 5:30, I awoke and dressed for dinner at Espirito and Justine’s house. Espirito told me his story, which involved leaving everything he owned in Kampala to follow God’s call to serve in the war-torn north. He told of miracles he had witnessed and had prayed for, not the least of which were convincing President Museveni that their war was not only against flesh and blood, but agains principalities of Darkness. He waged a spiritual war against the strongholds of Joseph Kony and his child warriors and sex-slaves. He blessed cursed waters and demonstrated their purity by bathing in and drinking water that had killed animals the previous day. He managed to obtain support from the President, including ground and air transportation, armed guards, hardware, and even a media crew, who filmed the documentary “An Unconventional War” about the spiritual aspect of this battle. It was quite a story!
Dinner was delightful, with Ugandan favorites like matooke and chicken soup, but with pizza also, apparently because they were entertaining a Westerner. How thoughtful!
Espirito then asked me my story, and I told it with just as much excitement as if I had battled war lords, since I had, but of a different variety. During the telling, I mentioned that I had taught Sunday School even at the age of fifteen, so he gathered his six children around us and told me to teach them. Talk about being put on the spot! They aged from three to eleven, and I had them participating and giggling, but felt I also had their attention. When I was done, I prayed for them, and asked them to sing a song for me. We all sang a praise song, and this time the smiles and dancing came as naturally as water from a stream.
When I was excused, I was dismissed with hugs and high fives, and Justine and the kids escorted me down the road, at least to the first intersection. I was so honored that I continued on with them, even though I had planned to meet with the Cessnun family next door to Espirito, for the end of the Liverpool v. Manchester United match. When the kids had all left, I sneaked back in the dark to watch the end of the football (soccer) game. My team (Liverpool) won an unprecedented 5 goals to none. I was surprised to see the Cessnun family had the same idea we all had over the previous two days: pizza, which they made with chapati instead of pizza dough, for a sort of chap-pizza combination of Africa and America.
I walked home in the dark, content that I had managed to meet with the Managing Director and his wife without making any social or political errors. Instead of being hurt by my decision to live outside RG, he was eager to hear ideas about how he and I can work together.
Monday, 25 October 2021
There were very few patients at the hospital today, and plenty of nursing staff to treat them. So I was relieved when Michael, the head of the Hospitality Team, fetched me so I could unlock Team House for its weekly cleaning. I took the opportunity to steal away, reflect, write, and rest.
I was grieved to receive word that another of Nurse Patrick’s family has died, this one from Covid-19. He will have to go to his home outside Gulu, but offered to pick up the remainder of the keys from my landlady, who finally has tracked them down from the builder. Patrick shoulders a lot of the responsibility of his family, being the only one regularly employed, and the oldest sober member of the family. We are hatching a goat-rearing plan, and I hope we can make a go of a lasting partnership. He is such a beloved brother to me!
