Tag Archives: Uganda

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Thursday, 14 October 2021

Yesterday, after I posted, a half dozen or so of the adult RG kids came over and we had a watermelon party. While we laughed and ate watermelon, the girls decided to prepare the entula I had brought from Kamdini. They finished cooking it just as they were required to go to preparatory class (“Preps”), so we postponed the second half of our gathering until 9:30 pm, when class would let out.

When they went to class, I went to visit Robert and Zam. Robert was giving a piano lesson to teenager Ben Cessnun and the subject was worship music, so I was asked to join in. I always like that we turn to worship at Robert’s house. Zam wouldn’t let me leave without feeding me matooke (steamed plantains) and I have learned not to hurt her feelings. I did manage to excuse myself just in time to find Janet about to give up on getting into the dark and empty Team House. I opened up the place and welcomed my closest six plus one to a sampling of the entula, mixed with the beef and rice RG had catered for my dinner. I do so love these kids! I hope they can tell. Janet tells me it is obvious, but I want them to know their Heavenly Father loves them even more than I, their visiting “uncle.” Earlier, Charge Nurse Miriam visited to tell me of a tragedy in her father’s home, and during her visit affirmed that no one has loved her and cared for her concerns like I have. It was evidence of the answers to my constant prayer that God would pour out so much loving grace on me that it flows into the lives of others. It was my favorite day so far.

Today I will be back at the General Ward, but only to disappoint the staff with the news that I must abandon them again tomorrow. My new landlady informed me that she has had a death in her family, and will not be able to meet Saturday. I agreed to meet her Friday morning instead, so I will sign rental papers and pick up my keys then.

Later…

At work, Sister Sophie told me the man who was supposed to give the devotion this morning was inexplicably absent. She asked me to fill in. 1 Peter 3:15 says we should always be ready to give account for the hope we profess, and this was an example of the need for readiness. I taught on Galatians 2:20, and what it means to crucify the sinful nature. I explored a more in depth look at that teaching by Paul in Ephesians 2.

On rounds we found a woman who had signs of hypoxia and appeared in severe distress. I brought out the pulse oximeter and found her pulse oxygen saturation to be 55%. (It is supposed to be 94 to 100%.) The last time I saw one that low, the patient was dead inside two hours. While the doctors issued orders, I administered medicine while another nurse fetched an oxygen concentrator from the other ward. Within a few minutes of deep breathing coaching on oxygen, her oxygenation was up to 96%. I call that a good save. I was only one who responded to this need, but even in Luo, this lady expressed her appreciation, and we said a blessing over each other.

Shortly after tea, Dr. Colby Cessnun approached me and said he had to immediately go to Gulu and offered to take me along. I try not to pass up an opportunity to learn something from an American who has been in country as long as Colby has, so I hurried home, changed my clothes, and zipped over to Colby’s house, where his wife, Maryanne, and youngest son, Silas, were waiting to go.

I got to chat and pick the brains of both Colby and Maryanne on the way, and study the places they went and the people they met. The Immigration Office was the destination of the day and, although that effort was unfruitful, we made several stops that proved educational.

One such was a visit with the founders of Wend Africa, an organization that assists children with Nodding Syndrome, a rare condition that effects the neurological patterns of certain children who grew up in this area. It’s cause of yet unidentified. To pay for these benefits, Jolly (pronounced Joe-Lee) and Emmy employ seamstresses to sew fine handbags and dolls which are sold for profit. Jolly was excited to report the recent expansion into an Amazon Marketplace. Watch for it. When I told Jolly how much Cindy loves teaching women to sew, she begged for me to bring her in quickly.

We went to lunch at The Iron Donkey (what locals call a bicycle), and it was very good. After we ordered though, since everything is made to order, we had time to go to Cynibel, the local supermarket I have mentioned before. I took the opportunity to get some more bread for my nightly guests, who love making it into buttered toast.

On the way home, we stopped at and toured my new apartment. Maryanne and Colby seemed thrilled with my choice and commended my adaptability. Maryanne paid me a high compliment when she told me she could tell I was the kind of person who will not only make it here, but do very well. It can be intimidating being in a foreign land, so that feedback was very welcome.

On the road, I could begin to feel a sore throat coming on. My chronic sinus infections don’t care much for extra dust or smoke, and I’m afraid I was paying for the previous day’s Boda ride. When I got to Team House, I but my mango juice and grapefruit juice I had bought into the freezer to chill, and then crashed on the couch. It was one of those good naps, the kind you wake from all sweaty and disoriented.

I almost missed the sound of Olivia knocking sheepishly at my door. She came in with Prisca and Janet right behind. I grilled the girls some toast the way they like it and shared some of my mango juice and biscuits (butter cookies) from Cynibel, and it was a party again. Since I was in no mood for eating, the girls split up my beans and rice, and even left me some for breakfast.

I spoke briefly with Cindy, who is frantically trying to get our house ready for market. She has her hands full, and could use your prayers. We need to sell that thing before too many more mortgage payments come due.

Tonight I am sleeping with Vick’s Vapor Rub in my mustache and Sudafed and Benadryl in my belly. I hope to wake up a new man. Tomorrow is lease-signing day!

I did not wake up feeling like a new man, but maybe like a gently used one. I still have the sniffles and an occasional cough, but not enough to make anyone flee in terror yelling about Corona, and my fever is gone. I had my grapefruit juice this morning, and tried to explain what a grapefruit is to Hosman, who came to visit me for breakfast.

Friday, 15 October 2021

Patrick and I set out for Gulu at 8am sharp, but since the first step of travel like this is to wait at the Boda stand for our ride, it can feel like schedules are really out the window. We took a Boda to Karuma, then caught a north-going car and crossed the awe-inspiring but deadly Karuma Bridge. Before we even got to the next town (Kamdini) we had to slow down to let a family of elephants cross the road. As exciting as it is to be this close to wild elephants, the driver was more worried about his car, and told us stories of these giants overturning cars that got too close.

We met Molly the landlady a little before our 11 o’clock appointment, and we went around inspecting the place for damage. I signed the rental agreement, and transmitted the first three and a half months’ rent to Molly on the spot. People pay for almost anything with their cell phones here. At any rate, I rented an apartment in Uganda!

We described to Molly our intentions of buying furniture, and she was kind enough to drive us to her favorite furniture vendor, warning us about the cheaper goods sold by most of the furniture vendors in Gulu. I had heard the same warning from my friend, Nancy Cardoza, who had the experience of buying furniture made with green rather than seasoned wood, and the furniture quickly fell apart. We fairly quickly found a pair of living room chairs, a bed, and a mattress, but were unable to find a dining set in Gulu. We bought a few household necessities and hired a truck to drive us and our plunder home. Patrick was kind enough to help me set up the furniture and sweep the apartment. Then, on our way back to RG, he told me of a town south of Karuma that would have the quality furniture we were seeking, for less than the Gulu prices. Instead of turning off to RG when we got to Karuma, we continued on to Bwayale.

This town was a second home for Patrick, who attended nursing school and met his wife here. It seemed he knew everyone, and he knew just where to find the dining set and a van to haul it. Since it was so late, we had the van driver take it and us to Team House for safe keeping.

It was late, and Patrick and I were exhausted and hungry, so we said our goodbyes. Just then, the girls showed up: Janet, Prisca, and Shalom. I could tell that something bad had happened to Shalom but she wouldn’t say what. Having friends here is a lot like having daughters. I just quietly love them and let them talk when they are ready. Hungry as I was, I still didn’t feel much like eating, so the girls shared my supper. Prisca and Janet laughed and carried on while Shalom quietly busied herself with washing their dishes. I cannot stop that girl. She believes that every gift must be earned. I’m afraid that mentality seeps into the cultural understanding of grace too. It is hard to explain the difference between working for grace and serving out of gratitude for it. Or maybe it is I who misunderstand the gratitude of my new friends.

Saturday, 16 October 2021

I slept in today and readied myself for a motorcycle trip to Karuma as soon as Janet was finished with Saturday class at 10:00 am. We finally got underway around 11:30 with quite a shopping list. Around here, when word gets out that you are going to town, people appear with their wish lists. I was going because I failed to get my little circle the pork and pineapple they requested I bring back from Gulu yesterday. As I approached the Boda stand outside RG Hospital, my friend, Patrick, was waiting for me with a borrowed motorcycle. An experienced Boda man himself, Patrick drove Janet and me to Karuma, and the three of us loaded ourselves down with groceries to take back to RG.

Patrick topped off his supply of staples while Janet and I went crazy planning a dinner for our little circle of friends. We bought pork from an open air butcher cutting pieces off with a machete (called a “panga” here), potatoes, tomatoes, onions, and another great big watermelon. Janet somehow talked me into buying her a bucket of pineapple flavored cookies (“biscuits”) that should last the whole dorm of girls a month, but which will likely be gone inside a week.

When we returned to Team House, a half dozen girls showed up and began preparing a feast from the groceries we bought and the fresh entula left from the day before. When the food was prepared, the girls all began to say goodbye, and told me they would be back to eat after what I swear they were calling “Lifeburn.”

Last week on Independence Day, I was under the impression there was a visiting band called Lifeburn. I was not interested in hearing any such and had a date with Patrick’s family anyway, so I didn’t think much about it. But here it was again, this strange event called Lifeburn. I asked where this band was from and mentioned something about having been burned enough in my life, and the girls squealed with laughter. Finally someone made it clear that what was being said was not Lifeburn but “live band.” This is an example of the problems I have as a hard-of-hearing American trying to decipher the words of these precious Ugandans speaking English as a second language.

As it turns out, Live Band night is something like a talent show of worship the kids do about once a month. Last week it got rained out, so this was sort of a do-over. It was an absolute blast! When I was growing up, our church would have nights called “singspiration” where we would sing instead of listen to a preacher. Imagine that on steroids with dancing, whooping, and hollering. When I was little, sometimes my sisters, brother, and I would put on a talent show for our parents. Imagine that times 225. It was worshipful, fun, and crazy, and I was so glad I went!

Before that event, I forgot to mention the football match (soccer game) we we watched in the gym. My new team, Liverpool, won 5 goals to none. So that made up for the report I got that LSU beat my Gators in American Football.

After Live Band, a dozen or more kids showed up at Team House, and we all shared fried pork, potatoes (which are called “Irish potatoes” or simply “Irish” to differentiate from the African Sweet Potatoes, simply referred to as “potatoes”), entula with eggs, and watermelon for dessert. It was quite a feast, and it was nice to fill Team House with so many smiling faces even when I am staying here alone.

A couple of the kids hung behind to talk with me privately. Since I have my new dining set set up outside on the covered porch, it is a nice place to have these personal chats. It is an honor to have these kids open up to me and share the burdens of their hearts. One confessed she was reluctant to trust me because so many come and never return, but she could see that my love for the RG kids was real and that I would be around. I love it when God does His thing!

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  • Janet overlooking the Nile River
  • Janet and Prisca
  • Jonathan's first painting sale
  • Sister Sophie dressed for the banquet in traditional gomezi
  • Mucungwa and Mama Cindy portrait commissioned by Nurse Patrick
  • Perhaps the greatest sight of the trip -- my luggage arrived on Boda
  • Janet sporting Florida orange and blue
  • Olivia, my Karuma travel companion
  • The RG Girls' Football Team took the Independence Cup
  • Praise kisses his mother, Zam
  • Gloria lends us shelter in her grass thatch hut
  • Opiyo Patrick, my nursing buddy, and his two boys, Jerome and Ethan
  • Our new apartment, now titled Mucungwa Manor

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Wednesday, 6 October 2021

Today was work as usual at the General Ward, which was busy with opportunities to be a blessing. At the end of the day, I returned home to Team House, which is dark these days and usually locked until I arrive. I was not lonely long, however, because Janet arrived and we shared dinner out on the front porch.

Thursday, 7 October 2021

I had a chat with Dr. Colby Cessnun about the ongoing Independence Cup football (soccer) tournament. I learned that he and his family sponsor this and several other tournaments during the year as a Christian ministry outreach. Each team has a chaplain, who gives a Gospel message and prays at the outset of each event.

I abbreviated my work schedule today because I was told the girls’ football match was at 2pm. As it turns out, I could have finished my shift or at least taken lunch with the nurses, because that 2pm start time was on what is lovingly referred to around her as “Africa time,” which means no rushing — we get to it when we get to it. This is opposed to “America time” which means 1:59 and 59 seconds.

At the football pitch, I was happy to see so many of the children wearing the tee-shirts of CrossRoad Church, my home church. Janet was even wearing University of Florida orange and blue. (Sorry, Pastor Kevin. No Wildcats here.) Vivian, one of the RG kids Cindy and I sponsor, had a great game, but felt bad because as she went for a high kick, her defender got between her foot and the ball, resulting to a kicking injury to the visitor’s face. The girls easily won their match 12 goals to 1, and Shalom was the high-scoring player with nine goals.

I was told this day was the last for Mama Janice and Dr. Tim McCall, and that they would be heading back to Texas on Friday. I looked for opportunities to meet with them, but never saw them at the football pitch. By the time I got free to discuss things with them, they were busy packing at their house. Even their dog, Stoney, who is often friendly to me, chased me away from the house.

Friday, 8 October 2021

I preached the devotional message at RG Hospital today, using a reading from 2 Corinthians 4:4-10. I spoke of Jesus as the light of life, then tied in Gideon’s concealed torches in jars of clay in Judges 7:16-21. I reminded the group that we are all jars of clay brought from the dust of the earth (Genesis 2:7) and that the light of life was present at Creation and remains today (John 1:1-5). I pointed out that this light can be trusted, even as an anchor holds a ship secure (Psalms 27:1). Then I closed with Jesus’ call to keep the light pure, and to keep out the darkness (Luke 11:36). The feedback I got was that I was very encouraging, and that I spoke properly, annunciating my words so that I was understood. This can be a problem for American speakers, who are used to a very sloppy sort of English that Ugandans call “lazy speech.”

I left the hospital after rounding with the clinicians, because I had to prepare for the girls’ semi-final match. I acted as chaperone to two of the adult RG girls, Prisca and Olivia, who walked with me the four miles to Karuma in the hot sun. Even with hats and an umbrella, we were melting and exhausted when we arrived, not to mention late. As we walked up, Vivian scored the first (and only) goal of the day. In the end, our girls won, but got a lesson in humility after all the crushing defeats they are used to dealing out. After the game, I hired two motorcycle taxis, one for me and one for the two girls in my charge. We all went back to the girls’ dorm and celebrated the victory.

While I was at the dorm, Janet brought me a special treat, a stewed vegetable called Entula and nicknamed the African garden egg. She served it with posho and insisted I eat, even though it was not a mealtime. Apparently she spent her pocket money on this favorite of hers and was eager to prepare it for me as a thanks for all the meals I have shared with her. It was delicious.

I began talks with a real estate broker who confirmed for me that one of the apartments I have been watching since last June is available. I made an appointment to see it on Monday.

I was kept company at Team House by Hosman, Janet, and another Janet, who all shared stories of their life, their cares, and concerns. It warms my heart to hear the kids open up. I feel trusted and respected, and regularly have the opportunity to pour love and what I pray is godly guidance in their lives.

Saturday, 9 October 2021 — Ugandan Independence Day!

This is a big day! Certainly it is for all Ugandans, since they celebrate their independence from Great Britain in 1962, but especially for the RG girls who have advanced to the championship football match (soccer game) in Karuma today. I also learned that RG has a special guest for a women’s conference happening next week: Karen Abercrombie, whom you may better know as “Miss Clara” from the inspirational movie War Room. I know I will get to run into her at some point, since she is staying just two doors down from Team House, but so far, I have not had the privilege of her acquaintance.

Yesterday’s trek was so excruciatingly hot and wearisome, that Prisca refused to join Olivia and me today. I admitted I am too old for such walks in the equatorial African sun, and hired a single Boda (motorcycle) for the two of us. The Boda men have a way of fitting a lot of cargo and passengers on these small bikes, and this extra-large American was no problem for our driver.

As the team huddled before the match, I joined them, and was given permission to pray the blessing over the team. I affirmed that we would not be so vain as to ask for victory, but asked that God would glorify Himself as He enabled the girls to use the talents He gave them to the best of their ability. We offered all the diligence, dedication, and concentration as acts of worship, and then confessed that, if we were to win the cup, we would do so for the glory of God. The girls played their hearts out and their opponents forced them to lay it all on the field. In the end, RG took the cup, winning this championship match one goal to none.

Toward the end of the match there was some roughness on the part of our opponents, but the RG girls did not fight back. With every bit of grace and honor I could have prayed for, the girls claimed their victory. The defeated team were not so gracious, and a few made threats of physical harm that were so convincing, the head coach made our girls pack up and go back home, missing out on the awards ceremony. I stayed behind with a few others who had either come by other means than team transportation, or who somehow got past the coach. It was heartbreaking to know most of the girls who had worked so hard for this weren’t able to enjoy the receipt of the prize, but I am told the cup got a reception with a dancing parade all around the RG sports complex when it arrived not the van.

I returned to Team House in time to freshen up for dinner at the home of Patrick and Nancy (Mama Jerome). They put on an incredible feast, and threatened to hold me to the rule that says you cannot leave a Ugandan table until you have first eaten all that has been laid before you. There was no way I could have done that, even if there had been five of me! Eventually, they did start calling in neighbors to help us eat all this food, but it was very good. All except the chicken gizzard I was presented as a special offering to the guest of honor. Cindy would be proud of me because she loves those things, but I choked it down only because of the honor with which it was given to me.

Patrick has been like a brother to me, both on my last visit and even more so on this one. He has a way of making me understand things from a Ugandan’s perspective. He is gentle with his corrections and detailed in his educational points. I came away from dinner a little closer to this family., and a lot more satisfied that I am making a difference in the lives of those I have met here.

Sunday, 10 October 2021

I went to church off-campus, at a church that was built on the road to Karuma, specifically for the locals. Dr. Cessnun and a former missionary to RG named Claude had built the structure and the church grew within it. It was good to see people celebrating Jesus in their own language, and I even had fun trying to sing along reading the hymnal written in Luo (the umbrella language of Acholi and Langi). I was honored to be entrusted with Dr. Cessnun’s family of ten and his van, while he drove another car and picked up passengers on the way to church. Maryanne Cessnun said she absolutely hates driving in the mud, and Karuma-RG Road was virtually muck soup most of the way, so she was happy to let me have the wheel. I got to meet several new faces, and noticed a few friends in the service as well. Though this church was developed by Baptists as a more Baptist-influenced mission, I was encouraged to see that a couple of my friends, one a known Catholic, and the other a Pentecostal, were both made comfortable here. I was a little surprised when, at the closing of the service, I, a mere visitor, was asked to say the closing prayer. I am always happy to pray though.

Pastor Jimmy approached me after the service and accused me of being a resident. He said I speak like I have been in Uganda for a very long time. I told him I was practicing a lot at the hospital and would soon be making more of a home here. It is nice to be accepted by the locals.

I spent the afternoon with several of the adult RG “kids” at Team House. At about 5pm Janet and I decided to visit the hospital, she to visit a cousin who was attending a patient, and I to deliver some sneakers to a nurse who recently informed me she has to walk several kilometers to and from work each shift. I wish you could have seen this precious lady dancing and praising God for these shoes. You would have thought Heaven had sent them by doves.

As I left the hospital, I loitered around the security gate chatting with the three RG security guards there, including the chief, Lawrence. The three were talking about how well known I have become, and were chuckling about my Acholi (Luo) name, Mucungwa, which means citrus fruit. Lawrence honored me with this remark: “You don’t act like the Americans that come here. You are truly with the people and are happy to share in their lives in a friendly way.” Lawrence and his boys see just about everything that goes on around here, and I was both humbled and honored by his feedback. I simply replied, “I have a friendly Jesus in my heart, and I only want to share Him!”