Tag Archives: Uganda

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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!”

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Sunday, 3 October 2021

We had a lovely church service with Pastor Gitta Francis preaching on Romans 2. It is always a good reminder never to be judgmental, especially when sharing the Word.

After church, I walked my friend Prisca to the hospital, where she discovered she had malaria. This disease can really take the energy out of you, and she really felt miserable. Malaria is extremely dangerous, but easily treatable. She started her treatments, and quickly felt better.

While I was at the hospital with my friend, an RG Security Guard came running in to find me and said he needed me right away. I could not imagine what kind of security issue would need me, but I went with him to the Hospital gate. There was a motorcycle with all my luggage strapped to it, wound up in tape and bungee cords for safe measure. I cannot begin to tell you what a relief it was to see such a sight!

I gave the two men carrying my luggage directions to Team House and ran (or walked quickly if my back surgeon is reading this) behind the motorcycle. I entertained the two men with a Western delicacy — ice water, and sent them on their way with my sincerest gratitude.

It was hard to resist tearing into my luggage like presents on Christmas morning, but I was dressed in freshly cleaned clothes and had a lunch date, so I held off.

I had lunch with my friends, Robert and Mama Praise (aka Zam). It was a lovely time, but we hurried off to see the RG Girls’ team play two challenging visitor teams in football (soccer). Our girls won the first match seven goals to one and, even tired, skunked the second challenger with eleven goals to their zero. I have never even heard of such scores. Everyone was so proud! My dear friend Shalom managed to score nine of the goals in one day, a record for her.

I had several guests in the evening, especially after it got around that I had clothes to share. Since most of the clothes I brought were for men or children, I was surprised how eager the adult girls were to get their hands on tee-shirts, especially anything with Mucungwa’s Florida Gators on them. Janet, Prisca, and Shalom all went home decked in Florida orange and blue. I saved some special items for my sponsored children, and will send the rest to Child Care to be distributed by need.

I noticed the girls were staying later than usual, and when I asked about their supper, they informed me they had no food left at the dorm. They explained that there is a monthly allotment and it usually runs out before the end of the month. Then the next month’s portion doesn’t usually arrive until mid-week. I was terribly disturbed by this news and quickly found anything I could share from Team House.

Monday, 4 October 2021

Shalom told me that the girls were able to use the cooking oil I shared the night before to make food enough for all of them, and even had enough to share with the boys’ dorm. She said, “Because of you, many were satisfied!” Can you imagine making a difference with a little cooking oil?

I worked the General Ward again today. We had a couple of new staff members, both with complicated names, a problem far more severe for a hearing impaired American trying to decipher the soft-spoken whispers of Ugandans. They are generally so quiet here!

Morning rounds were not even half finished before Security brought in a man they said had been beaten by thieves. It turns out he was more likely drugged by thieves, but we spent the better part of the day trying to get venous access on this slim, dehydrated man. As he began to regain consciousness, he was yelling as though he was still fighting off his attacker(s). The nurses were great about taking care of the tasks necessary for his care but didn’t know how to respond to his outbursts. I gently lay my had on his chest or shoulder and reassured him he was safe, his fight was over, and he was now in the care of a hospital, and he calmed back down every time. It was good to show the staff how not to be afraid to use therapeutic touch and reorientation to soothe a traumatized patient.

I was only small help throughout the day, and often aggravated my shoulder injury. I did not expect it to be so crippling for so long. At 2 o’clock shift change, I took lunch with Grace and Scovia Susan, then left for Team House.

I spent far longer than I expected to helping the girls work out some issues with their phones. When we get finished, I hope to keep in closer contact with them.

Robert and Mama Praise (that’s Zam) had me over for dinner. I was served quite a feast: matooke (plantains), posho (moistened corn flour), and rice, all smothered in an eggplant relish sauce, with watermelon and passion fruit juice. I felt like royalty, and they always make me feel like family. Praise, who is now the oldest but still cries when he sees a moono (white person), even gave me a hug before the night was done.

Tuesday, 5 October 2021

Today is the funeral for Janet’s brother-in-law, so I am going to Poli, a small village outside Bobi, a larger village south of Gulu, the main city in the North. We will travel by Boda-Boda (a small, 100 cc motorcycle used as a taxi throughout Africa), then public bus, then another Boda-Boda. These motorcycles got their name from the driver’s willingness to take their riders from border-to-border, and that statement was shortened to Boda-Boda. This mode of transportation accounts for most of the injuries I see in the hospital, so I am praying for God’s protection to go before, around, and behind us.

Later…

What an adventure that trip was! We took bodas to Karuma, where we piled in a van headed north. We got out at Minakulu and caught another pair of bodas for a half-hour trip down a winding clay mud path to a creek, which we waded across. We remounted the bodas and arrived at Poli, Janet’s home village, where there were meeting tents set up and chairs for hundreds, though few were filled yet.

Janet and I took seats down front, and were immediately recognized by the emcee. I was welcomed in English, and cautioned that there would be little English spoken here. The emcee warned Janet that she would be trusted to interpret. It was a home-going celebration with around 350 in attendance when the seats were all filled and the children sat in a group on a tarp near us. There were preachers, pastors, a Catholic priest, and a representative of the Muslim faith all seated in a section facing the larger crowd. Each spoke briefly and then one pastor, that of Scovia, the decedent’s, church, preached a long sermon. The crazy thing was he preached in English simply because I was there, and used an interpreter for the 350 others in attendance. Have you ever had the feeling the preacher was talking to you? Imagine that, only with the confirmation that you are the only one in the crowd who needs the language he is using. To further honor their white guest, they had me introduce myself to the crowd, and when the celebration was concluded, insisted I go through the food line first.

The closest family members, including Janet, circled around a spot just outside the house closest to where we had gathered, bowed their heads, and laid flowers in a circle around what I learned was Scovia‘s grave. Here, there are no cemeteries, or “farms of headstones” s as I heard one Ugandan refer to them when he asked me about what he saw in a movie. People are buried at their homes.

As the service began to draw to a close and everyone had eaten, a rainstorm blew in, and Janet and I took shelter in the home of one of her cousins. I had previously met this cousin, Kennedy, at RG Hospital, but now I was being sheltered by his wife, Gloria, and friends inside a very lovely grass thatch hut. It is far more comfortable than you might imagine.

When the rain let up, Janet walked me around her village. She showed me where her relatives stayed, and the home she was preparing for herself. Her garden had hip-high corn growing, but with weeds that proved she didn’t make the trip here very often. How could she? The round trip cost us roughly 80,000 Uganda shillings. For reference, an RG staff nurse makes 350,000 per month, and Janet is an unemployed adult secondary school student. (The current exchange rate is about $1 to 3,500 UGX.)

Since the rainstorm was so severe, all the roads were slippery clay soup, and the creek we had to wade across was up to our thighs. The boda drivers lifted their motorcycles to their shoulders one at a time to carry them across the water. Janet’s white dress had been ruined, so she had exchanged it for more suitable travel clothes at her aunt’s house. Still, her dress shoes took a beating on this journey. By the time we got to the main road, what had taken us 30 minutes to travel there took 50 minutes to wrestle back. When we arrived in Karuma, the Boda men who scurried for my attention when I arrived, abandoned me when I told them we were going to RG. One exclaimed, “No! That road is too bad!” I thought it amusing that he declined the opportunity to ask for an inflated rate, but instead flatly refused me. That’s how bad the road was.

Janet called her favorite Boda man, Fred, who came and talked a friend into helping him transport us the last three miles home. Those short miles took about 25 minutes to navigate in the squishy clay.

There was food on my table when we arrived at Team House, so I shared it with Janet, and said goodnight. She has been like a daughter to me, and she always says I have been like the father she always wanted, but today I finally felt like I was included in her family.