Monday, August 22, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Introspection, travel, and an overview
August 18, 2011
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
I’m back in the US, safe and sound. I wrote this in the airport before I left Africa. It’s good to be home, but I am so glad I went.
I’m sitting on the floor of terminal 2 in the Addis Abba International Airport in easy sight of the monitor that I hope will be flashing my departing gate relatively soon. I have been assured it will indeed appear there, so I will wait. I mean, I do have like two hours before my flight leaves which gives me plenty of time to find out which one of the eight gates funnels people to Washington and then, for me, to home.
And….even as I wrote gate number 6 flashed beside my flight number, my personal version of Dorothy’s tornado. I am now sitting beside it having gotten the cool seat beside the window that was still open because my ever-early self was one of the first passengers to arrive. It pays to be early…usually.
We left Jinja around 9:30 this morning and arrived in Kampala in time for lunch at a Mexican restaurant the girls love. Today, our meal was simultaneously symbolic and celebratory. This was the restaurant Christina and Mandie went to after picking up Meems, the little girl who, now, months later, is officially Christina’s daughter and is going home to America for the first time tonight. We had chips, salsa, queso, guacamole, and isn’t-love-and-God-beautiful margaritas together; a lovely way to finish off my brief stay in Uganda.
So far, all my flights/check-ins have been smooth. Ethiopian Airlines feeds you about every 20 minutes, which I LOVE, so I’m feeling full and happy as I wait for the next 13- hour installment of flight attendant-care. I am enjoying traveling alone. Not that I mind having people with me (I am certainly missing my amazing travel buddy, Courtney), but the chance to retreat into myself and think or observe or just “be” by myself while hundreds of people and sounds surge around me is somehow soothing. Proof in the pudding that I am indeed an introvert.
I stood for a few minutes on the front porch this morning, feeling the cool air and trying to realize I was leaving. I felt like I had only been here for a short time, while simultaneously feeling like I’d always been here. I don’t know if that means that I adapt quickly to places or whether I just have a weirdly bad memory. Who can say…
I wrote on my way here that I had the nagging suspicion that God was taking me to Africa not for me to give something, but for him to give something to me, and I think that suspicion proved true. Yes, when the babies were sick or when I dropped developing solution (I completely forgot what it’s really called) onto a few malaria tests at Katie’s clinic, I “helped,” I “gave.” But in doing those things, in hanging out with the other 5 girls in the house, in snuggling and cleaning and diapering the precious babies, in seeing what I saw, and slipping into life in Uganda, I received SO much more. Of most note, perhaps, was the gift of realizing that I, that we as humans, were not meant to live life easily. Our hearts and souls and bodies were not made for tameness or for the vanilla lifestyle we seem to try to build for ourselves. In the comparative “hardships” of life in a third world country when compared to my life at home, my heart responded to the needs that were there and it not only rose to the occasion to provide what was needed, but I felt alive and connected to myself and to what was going on around me through that lack-of-ease. I am certainly not saying that a life that has seasons of comparative ease is not good. Nor am I not saying that living a life that is hard somehow better or “truer” than any other. I am saying, however, that we were created with the ability and the desire to respond to need, to fulfill a position that calls on the strength we did not need when our lives were easy. It can’t possibly be glamorous; I only have had brief glimpse of it, and it is really not always pretty. But it is enlivening.
I consider this trip to be the perfect cap to my summer. While a cruise or something like that would have been wonderful (and I won’t lie and say that I did not think about that rather longingly at 2 am with a vomiting baby beside me), this gave me something I could not have received from a cruise or a road trip with friends. I am honestly not sure exactly what it gave me. In addition to my realization above, perhaps I received a better depth of perspective as I view the world, or a renewed sense of the beauty, annoyance and fun that different personalities can create when thrown together in confined spaces for extended periods of time. But all in all, I think whatever Africa gave me will be much longer-lasting, much more deeply-seated, and much less obvious than I expected. It might be a subtle change, it might be a drastic one, or it might be right in the middle, affecting some parts of me strongly and others only slightly. But I don’t think there’s a way you can come to this country and not be affected somehow, even if it’s only by the mixture of its immense natural beauty with its poverty. I am happy to be coming home, but I am not at all disappointed by my choice to spend these last days of summer in Africa. It’s the best decision I could have made.
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
I’m back in the US, safe and sound. I wrote this in the airport before I left Africa. It’s good to be home, but I am so glad I went.
I’m sitting on the floor of terminal 2 in the Addis Abba International Airport in easy sight of the monitor that I hope will be flashing my departing gate relatively soon. I have been assured it will indeed appear there, so I will wait. I mean, I do have like two hours before my flight leaves which gives me plenty of time to find out which one of the eight gates funnels people to Washington and then, for me, to home.
And….even as I wrote gate number 6 flashed beside my flight number, my personal version of Dorothy’s tornado. I am now sitting beside it having gotten the cool seat beside the window that was still open because my ever-early self was one of the first passengers to arrive. It pays to be early…usually.
We left Jinja around 9:30 this morning and arrived in Kampala in time for lunch at a Mexican restaurant the girls love. Today, our meal was simultaneously symbolic and celebratory. This was the restaurant Christina and Mandie went to after picking up Meems, the little girl who, now, months later, is officially Christina’s daughter and is going home to America for the first time tonight. We had chips, salsa, queso, guacamole, and isn’t-love-and-God-beautiful margaritas together; a lovely way to finish off my brief stay in Uganda.
So far, all my flights/check-ins have been smooth. Ethiopian Airlines feeds you about every 20 minutes, which I LOVE, so I’m feeling full and happy as I wait for the next 13- hour installment of flight attendant-care. I am enjoying traveling alone. Not that I mind having people with me (I am certainly missing my amazing travel buddy, Courtney), but the chance to retreat into myself and think or observe or just “be” by myself while hundreds of people and sounds surge around me is somehow soothing. Proof in the pudding that I am indeed an introvert.
I stood for a few minutes on the front porch this morning, feeling the cool air and trying to realize I was leaving. I felt like I had only been here for a short time, while simultaneously feeling like I’d always been here. I don’t know if that means that I adapt quickly to places or whether I just have a weirdly bad memory. Who can say…
I wrote on my way here that I had the nagging suspicion that God was taking me to Africa not for me to give something, but for him to give something to me, and I think that suspicion proved true. Yes, when the babies were sick or when I dropped developing solution (I completely forgot what it’s really called) onto a few malaria tests at Katie’s clinic, I “helped,” I “gave.” But in doing those things, in hanging out with the other 5 girls in the house, in snuggling and cleaning and diapering the precious babies, in seeing what I saw, and slipping into life in Uganda, I received SO much more. Of most note, perhaps, was the gift of realizing that I, that we as humans, were not meant to live life easily. Our hearts and souls and bodies were not made for tameness or for the vanilla lifestyle we seem to try to build for ourselves. In the comparative “hardships” of life in a third world country when compared to my life at home, my heart responded to the needs that were there and it not only rose to the occasion to provide what was needed, but I felt alive and connected to myself and to what was going on around me through that lack-of-ease. I am certainly not saying that a life that has seasons of comparative ease is not good. Nor am I not saying that living a life that is hard somehow better or “truer” than any other. I am saying, however, that we were created with the ability and the desire to respond to need, to fulfill a position that calls on the strength we did not need when our lives were easy. It can’t possibly be glamorous; I only have had brief glimpse of it, and it is really not always pretty. But it is enlivening.
I consider this trip to be the perfect cap to my summer. While a cruise or something like that would have been wonderful (and I won’t lie and say that I did not think about that rather longingly at 2 am with a vomiting baby beside me), this gave me something I could not have received from a cruise or a road trip with friends. I am honestly not sure exactly what it gave me. In addition to my realization above, perhaps I received a better depth of perspective as I view the world, or a renewed sense of the beauty, annoyance and fun that different personalities can create when thrown together in confined spaces for extended periods of time. But all in all, I think whatever Africa gave me will be much longer-lasting, much more deeply-seated, and much less obvious than I expected. It might be a subtle change, it might be a drastic one, or it might be right in the middle, affecting some parts of me strongly and others only slightly. But I don’t think there’s a way you can come to this country and not be affected somehow, even if it’s only by the mixture of its immense natural beauty with its poverty. I am happy to be coming home, but I am not at all disappointed by my choice to spend these last days of summer in Africa. It’s the best decision I could have made.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Short posts and open-air markets
August 17, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
Today was technically my last day in Uganda. We’ll be leaving Jinja by car tomorrow morning to head up the Kampala where I will then get to the airport. I’m bittersweet about it, leaving I mean. I’m planning to use my 24 hours of solo travel time to reflect and write a little, but tonight, I plan to be with the girls, talk, laugh, and eat on my last evening here. I don’t have the time to reflect that I need to really write what I want to so, sometime in the next 3 days, I will send out whatever I end up writing while on my way back to home. :)
Our big outing today consisted of going to the central market, which is basically a mall except its open-air, flea market-esque, and the floor is a little muddy, the air is a little smelly, and the isles are a little narrow. There was everything from baby clothes, to bathmats, potato sacks to popcorn in tiny little bags there. It was a cool experience. We spent awhile there, wending our way back and forth through the many, many rows of stalls. Other than that outing, our day was pretty quiet. The babies are both well on the way to being better, so much so that we are not planning to stay up with them around the clock tonight.
We’ll be leaving here in the morning to get to Kampala and have some lunch before I head off on my long trek back stateside.
I’m coming home.
Jinja, Uganda
Today was technically my last day in Uganda. We’ll be leaving Jinja by car tomorrow morning to head up the Kampala where I will then get to the airport. I’m bittersweet about it, leaving I mean. I’m planning to use my 24 hours of solo travel time to reflect and write a little, but tonight, I plan to be with the girls, talk, laugh, and eat on my last evening here. I don’t have the time to reflect that I need to really write what I want to so, sometime in the next 3 days, I will send out whatever I end up writing while on my way back to home. :)
Our big outing today consisted of going to the central market, which is basically a mall except its open-air, flea market-esque, and the floor is a little muddy, the air is a little smelly, and the isles are a little narrow. There was everything from baby clothes, to bathmats, potato sacks to popcorn in tiny little bags there. It was a cool experience. We spent awhile there, wending our way back and forth through the many, many rows of stalls. Other than that outing, our day was pretty quiet. The babies are both well on the way to being better, so much so that we are not planning to stay up with them around the clock tonight.
We’ll be leaving here in the morning to get to Kampala and have some lunch before I head off on my long trek back stateside.
I’m coming home.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Reflection, grace, learning and beans
August 16, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
I’m feeling rather introspective and reflective tonight, so this post reflects that. Forewarned is forearmed, so they say. :)
After having finished my dinner of red beans and rice (which is delicious), I am on the girls’ front porch with my little Netbook in my lap. The sunset is beautiful tonight, its orange tint just barley touching the purple-gray rainclouds rolling in. The little flocks of birds that fly through appear starkly against that backdrop and their calls are easy to hear without the noise of cars or buses to drown them out. The breeze is cool and rustles through the long leaves of the palm trees that tower at least 30 feet above me. All in all, the stillness and beauty of this country is very apparent tonight and I could almost think I was in some kind of resort. That is, if I didn’t know there was a man outside who has just gone through our garbage, and clouds of fruit flies in the house, and little whimpers from tiny babies floating through the window beside me.
Last night with the babies was quieter for everyone. Mama Faith came and took care of AR so the rest of us took shifts by twos through the night with E. The babies have definitely improved, although the last few days have been difficult for everyone involved. Today we gave ourselves a break from dirty diapers and I.V.’s by going into town for lunch. Getting out of the house felt SO awesome.
This afternoon we went to a weekly clinic run about 5 minutes walk from Mandie’s run by Katie Davis in her home, a 23 year old amazing young woman living here in Jinja. It was quieter today than normal, apparently, with only around 12 people and their children coming through in the two hours the clinic ran. The extent to which my physical helping extended was to assist in giving two malaria tests and grabbing a few medicines from the closest that functions as dispensary. I did get to observe a lot though. I saw wounds being cleaned and evacuated, HIV testings, nursing babies, old burns, new sores, and a lot of other things…I saw a lot in that sun-filled front porch. I felt there a sense of vulnerability in those coming and compassion in those attending that was a beautiful picture of grace. They needed help, and when they came and asked for it and the waited for the time it could be given, the help was given graciously and with individualized focus. I think I saw a picture of the way God sees our needs today. Katie knew that there was need, so the clinic was open for anyone who would come. Those who chose to come were humble (or desperate) enough to ignore any pride and to ask for help. When they asked, help was freely given with no strings attached. It’s a unique combination of initiative, humility, vulnerability, action, and waiting all mixed together. Interestingly, though, all five aspects need to be practiced by both groups (the needers and the givers) in order for the exchange to function well…
I noticed another thing while sitting and listening to Katie, Mandie and Courtney attend to the people at the clinic. I became poignantly aware of how much there is to know in the world. It’s so obvious, but it hit me in a different way today than it had before. To realize that no matter how much I learn or how much I know that there will always be more that’s unknown, more that I can choose to discover (or not to discover) makes me exited. Call me a nerd; call me passionate; or just call me a twenty-one year old. Actually, now that I think of it, call me all three! I’m passionately nerdy twenty-one year old who is becoming acutely aware of the vastness that is life. :)
Mandie, my sister, wrote a powerful blog post today on the gift of the Now, appreciating and living in the current situation in which you are living. I have been realizing that, over the years, my love of efficiency and looking forward to the future has kept me from really experiencing my now. Not that efficiency and the future are bad things, quite the contrary, but I had my balances wrong with too little attention to the present. In the last seven to ten months or so, I have been more intentional in my attention to the present, trying to balance it with my natural tendency to focus mostly on planning and the future. That being said, in the last few days, I have been finding myself becoming restless and impatient with my present: the flies and the vomit and the power going out and the lack of sleep. It came in flashes, but it was still there. When I read Mandie’s post though, it was like a mental step-back for me. I simply decided to live in this present, in this now, acknowledging the good and the bad, the smelly and the sweet, the tired and the energy, the frustration and the fun. I don’t have to like it necessarily; sometimes I really don’t. But by not focusing my mind simply on what’s coming next, I’m more available, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually, to the people and the situations that comprise my now. It’s so logical, and since I love logic so much, you think I’d have already figured this out. But, truly, I love the fact that I will never stop learning. Maybe it’s not so bad that this is just one of the things I’m getting to learn now. In my Now. I’m learning about my Now now. Ironic…
But that’s cool too, because in addition to logic, I dearly love irony. :)
Jinja, Uganda
I’m feeling rather introspective and reflective tonight, so this post reflects that. Forewarned is forearmed, so they say. :)
After having finished my dinner of red beans and rice (which is delicious), I am on the girls’ front porch with my little Netbook in my lap. The sunset is beautiful tonight, its orange tint just barley touching the purple-gray rainclouds rolling in. The little flocks of birds that fly through appear starkly against that backdrop and their calls are easy to hear without the noise of cars or buses to drown them out. The breeze is cool and rustles through the long leaves of the palm trees that tower at least 30 feet above me. All in all, the stillness and beauty of this country is very apparent tonight and I could almost think I was in some kind of resort. That is, if I didn’t know there was a man outside who has just gone through our garbage, and clouds of fruit flies in the house, and little whimpers from tiny babies floating through the window beside me.
Last night with the babies was quieter for everyone. Mama Faith came and took care of AR so the rest of us took shifts by twos through the night with E. The babies have definitely improved, although the last few days have been difficult for everyone involved. Today we gave ourselves a break from dirty diapers and I.V.’s by going into town for lunch. Getting out of the house felt SO awesome.
This afternoon we went to a weekly clinic run about 5 minutes walk from Mandie’s run by Katie Davis in her home, a 23 year old amazing young woman living here in Jinja. It was quieter today than normal, apparently, with only around 12 people and their children coming through in the two hours the clinic ran. The extent to which my physical helping extended was to assist in giving two malaria tests and grabbing a few medicines from the closest that functions as dispensary. I did get to observe a lot though. I saw wounds being cleaned and evacuated, HIV testings, nursing babies, old burns, new sores, and a lot of other things…I saw a lot in that sun-filled front porch. I felt there a sense of vulnerability in those coming and compassion in those attending that was a beautiful picture of grace. They needed help, and when they came and asked for it and the waited for the time it could be given, the help was given graciously and with individualized focus. I think I saw a picture of the way God sees our needs today. Katie knew that there was need, so the clinic was open for anyone who would come. Those who chose to come were humble (or desperate) enough to ignore any pride and to ask for help. When they asked, help was freely given with no strings attached. It’s a unique combination of initiative, humility, vulnerability, action, and waiting all mixed together. Interestingly, though, all five aspects need to be practiced by both groups (the needers and the givers) in order for the exchange to function well…
I noticed another thing while sitting and listening to Katie, Mandie and Courtney attend to the people at the clinic. I became poignantly aware of how much there is to know in the world. It’s so obvious, but it hit me in a different way today than it had before. To realize that no matter how much I learn or how much I know that there will always be more that’s unknown, more that I can choose to discover (or not to discover) makes me exited. Call me a nerd; call me passionate; or just call me a twenty-one year old. Actually, now that I think of it, call me all three! I’m passionately nerdy twenty-one year old who is becoming acutely aware of the vastness that is life. :)
Mandie, my sister, wrote a powerful blog post today on the gift of the Now, appreciating and living in the current situation in which you are living. I have been realizing that, over the years, my love of efficiency and looking forward to the future has kept me from really experiencing my now. Not that efficiency and the future are bad things, quite the contrary, but I had my balances wrong with too little attention to the present. In the last seven to ten months or so, I have been more intentional in my attention to the present, trying to balance it with my natural tendency to focus mostly on planning and the future. That being said, in the last few days, I have been finding myself becoming restless and impatient with my present: the flies and the vomit and the power going out and the lack of sleep. It came in flashes, but it was still there. When I read Mandie’s post though, it was like a mental step-back for me. I simply decided to live in this present, in this now, acknowledging the good and the bad, the smelly and the sweet, the tired and the energy, the frustration and the fun. I don’t have to like it necessarily; sometimes I really don’t. But by not focusing my mind simply on what’s coming next, I’m more available, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually, to the people and the situations that comprise my now. It’s so logical, and since I love logic so much, you think I’d have already figured this out. But, truly, I love the fact that I will never stop learning. Maybe it’s not so bad that this is just one of the things I’m getting to learn now. In my Now. I’m learning about my Now now. Ironic…
But that’s cool too, because in addition to logic, I dearly love irony. :)
Monday, August 15, 2011
Humor, choices, flies and laundry (or the lack thereof)
August 15, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
It’s been a relatively quiet day today after last night’s adventure with the babies. I went to bed around 2:30 and got to sleep longer than anyone else (about 4 hours) and then got up around 7:00 and joined Courtney out in the living room so Mandie and Kate could sleep for a while. The babies are little fighters and are doing better.
FYI, a sense of humor is essential here (and maybe also in any house where there are small children, especially sick small children). Between the flies, and the vomiting, and the lady who didn’t wash, dry or iron the laundry (meaning we have very little clean things left), and other…“occurrences”…for lack of a better word, there is so much to cause stress and worry and irritation and anger. But I’ve been astounded at how much laughter there is in this house, even in the midst of the craziness. I was astounded because I found myself growing so frustrated and tired and angry and was starting to get annoyed by the seeming “ease” (even though it’s totally not easy) with which the girls were functioning. Then I realized that one’s reaction to any situation is really a choice. Certainly you have an initial reaction (maybe happiness, or anger, and fear, or irritation), but ultimately, one chooses what they will do with that emotion. You choose whether or not it’s a good emotion with which to deal with the current situation. In this case, perhaps irritation or anger is the initial reaction to a lot of the things that happen here, but it is not necessarily the best response. Even if it is simply to keep yourself from turning into a bitter grouch or discouraged pessimist, choosing to respond to what life throws at you through your sense of humor is not only smart, it’s internally healthy.
Note to self.
Lesson learned.
Or at least, lesson seen and trying to be absorbed, which is not quite the same...
Tomorrow is my last day here in Jinja. Since I’m flying out of Kampala Thursday afternoon, we’ll be making the trip up there Wednesday morning to stay the night and get all our baggage situated and me to the airport on time. I’m not sure what’s on the agenda for tomorrow. Playing by ear…that’s the name of the game, folks. That used to be so hard for me, but it’s getting easier now. Just in time too.
Jinja, Uganda
It’s been a relatively quiet day today after last night’s adventure with the babies. I went to bed around 2:30 and got to sleep longer than anyone else (about 4 hours) and then got up around 7:00 and joined Courtney out in the living room so Mandie and Kate could sleep for a while. The babies are little fighters and are doing better.
FYI, a sense of humor is essential here (and maybe also in any house where there are small children, especially sick small children). Between the flies, and the vomiting, and the lady who didn’t wash, dry or iron the laundry (meaning we have very little clean things left), and other…“occurrences”…for lack of a better word, there is so much to cause stress and worry and irritation and anger. But I’ve been astounded at how much laughter there is in this house, even in the midst of the craziness. I was astounded because I found myself growing so frustrated and tired and angry and was starting to get annoyed by the seeming “ease” (even though it’s totally not easy) with which the girls were functioning. Then I realized that one’s reaction to any situation is really a choice. Certainly you have an initial reaction (maybe happiness, or anger, and fear, or irritation), but ultimately, one chooses what they will do with that emotion. You choose whether or not it’s a good emotion with which to deal with the current situation. In this case, perhaps irritation or anger is the initial reaction to a lot of the things that happen here, but it is not necessarily the best response. Even if it is simply to keep yourself from turning into a bitter grouch or discouraged pessimist, choosing to respond to what life throws at you through your sense of humor is not only smart, it’s internally healthy.
Note to self.
Lesson learned.
Or at least, lesson seen and trying to be absorbed, which is not quite the same...
Tomorrow is my last day here in Jinja. Since I’m flying out of Kampala Thursday afternoon, we’ll be making the trip up there Wednesday morning to stay the night and get all our baggage situated and me to the airport on time. I’m not sure what’s on the agenda for tomorrow. Playing by ear…that’s the name of the game, folks. That used to be so hard for me, but it’s getting easier now. Just in time too.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
On not being dramtic; a PS to my previous post
August 14, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
Just a note: the babies are not as sick as they seemed to me; my inexperienced eye must see things bigger than they are. They are sick, but not so badly that the girls (the ones who know what they’re looking at) are really worried. I just didn’t want anyone to worry overmuch because of my dramatic re-telling of the day’s events. We’re planning on taking shifts with them tonight, so everything will be fine here. :)
Jinja, Uganda
Just a note: the babies are not as sick as they seemed to me; my inexperienced eye must see things bigger than they are. They are sick, but not so badly that the girls (the ones who know what they’re looking at) are really worried. I just didn’t want anyone to worry overmuch because of my dramatic re-telling of the day’s events. We’re planning on taking shifts with them tonight, so everything will be fine here. :)
Vomit, I.V.'s, Knowledge and Love
August 14, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
We went to church this morning. Whether it was because I had slept badly last night or was just a little uncertain in this new environment, I was not inclined to go, for whatever reason. But we bodaed up and went anyway, and I am so glad we did. There was an energy of real-ness among the people gathered that I sensed that was so refreshing. The worship time and the message were energetic and felt like it was based not on duty, but on desire. I loved it.
We are having a very Ugandan afternoon here. As I wrote before, baby E has been sick for the past few days. The girls had to test her multiple times for malaria, but every time she came back negative. Today, however, the fever and diarrhea she’s been having since yesterday have increased and been joined by vomiting up, within minutes, everything she’s been eating. Courtney has been an unbelievable trooper and a beautiful blessing as she’s been caring for E today; both she and E have been through 4 different changes of clothes in the last six hours. E. is severely dehydrated and can’t keep anything down, formula or water, so after the third projectile vomiting incident today, the girls decided she needed hydration more than anything and decided to IV her. We didn’t have any needles small enough for her tiny, tiny body here in the house, so they called one of the other girls who lives near here who happened to have a neo-nat needle. She came over and began the getting the supplies for the IV ready. At this point, A.R. who had just gotten up from her nap decided to begin projectile vomiting as well. We cleaned that up, hoping that it was just an isolated incident, perhaps a bid for attention. The outcome of that particular situation still remains to be seen…
Renee, the girl who came over with the neo-nat needle, did the actual IV beautifully on the first stick and baby E was such a trooper through it. Her tiny little arms and dark skin make finding a good vein difficult but we were blessed that it went smoothly this time. It was difficult to get the IV dripping at first, but with the girls’ continued efforts it began running. Hopefully she’ll be feeling better soon; the saline in the IV should stop the vicious cycle of dehydration that causes her to continue to lose fluids while simultaneously keeping her from being able to absorb them.
That’s all for now. My heart has been alive today, not for anything I have done, but for what I have seen. I have hardly even been needed (my knowledge does not extend to the medical realm at all; I do what I can behind the scenes), but I have been able to observe. Observe need. Observe giving. Observe knowledge and love in action. Observe tender hearts, willing minds and strong hands. Observe selflessness in the knowledge that one may not be in an ideal situation, but one is simply needed and will rise to the meeting of that need. It’s beautiful.
It’s not necessarily pretty, but it is unbelievably beautiful.
Jinja, Uganda
We went to church this morning. Whether it was because I had slept badly last night or was just a little uncertain in this new environment, I was not inclined to go, for whatever reason. But we bodaed up and went anyway, and I am so glad we did. There was an energy of real-ness among the people gathered that I sensed that was so refreshing. The worship time and the message were energetic and felt like it was based not on duty, but on desire. I loved it.
We are having a very Ugandan afternoon here. As I wrote before, baby E has been sick for the past few days. The girls had to test her multiple times for malaria, but every time she came back negative. Today, however, the fever and diarrhea she’s been having since yesterday have increased and been joined by vomiting up, within minutes, everything she’s been eating. Courtney has been an unbelievable trooper and a beautiful blessing as she’s been caring for E today; both she and E have been through 4 different changes of clothes in the last six hours. E. is severely dehydrated and can’t keep anything down, formula or water, so after the third projectile vomiting incident today, the girls decided she needed hydration more than anything and decided to IV her. We didn’t have any needles small enough for her tiny, tiny body here in the house, so they called one of the other girls who lives near here who happened to have a neo-nat needle. She came over and began the getting the supplies for the IV ready. At this point, A.R. who had just gotten up from her nap decided to begin projectile vomiting as well. We cleaned that up, hoping that it was just an isolated incident, perhaps a bid for attention. The outcome of that particular situation still remains to be seen…
Renee, the girl who came over with the neo-nat needle, did the actual IV beautifully on the first stick and baby E was such a trooper through it. Her tiny little arms and dark skin make finding a good vein difficult but we were blessed that it went smoothly this time. It was difficult to get the IV dripping at first, but with the girls’ continued efforts it began running. Hopefully she’ll be feeling better soon; the saline in the IV should stop the vicious cycle of dehydration that causes her to continue to lose fluids while simultaneously keeping her from being able to absorb them.
That’s all for now. My heart has been alive today, not for anything I have done, but for what I have seen. I have hardly even been needed (my knowledge does not extend to the medical realm at all; I do what I can behind the scenes), but I have been able to observe. Observe need. Observe giving. Observe knowledge and love in action. Observe tender hearts, willing minds and strong hands. Observe selflessness in the knowledge that one may not be in an ideal situation, but one is simply needed and will rise to the meeting of that need. It’s beautiful.
It’s not necessarily pretty, but it is unbelievably beautiful.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Malaria, Rest, Rain, and Learning
August 12, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
Courtney and I got to join in on the kind of day that the girls here take when they need a restful, staycation day in the midst of their busy lives. We made crepes again for breakfast, then grabbed some workout clothes, Mobied up the babies, and set out on a long, workout-ish walk. Trust me, carrying a baby and walking quickly on the Ugandan roads in the hot sun wears you out! We power-walked for about 45 minutes (minus the vigorous arm-swinging; we left that to the 1980’s workout pros) before stopping at a small hotel overlooking the Nile from across the road to buy some water. We sat in their little patio and rested for a while, played with the babies, chugged our water, and generally cooled down from our walk. We traversed back, Courtney and I Mobied to E. and A.R. respectively, and Christina, Mandie and Kate taking turns with M. since she’s heavier than the babies. The girls live near a tourist hotel and once we got home, we grabbed some protein bars for lunch, put the little babies down for their naps, got M. into her bathing suit, and headed to the hotel’s pool for some sun and splashing. We got to stay there for a few hours; watching M. (complete with floaties and water toys) play with Courtney in the pool was so fun. It seemed to make her so joyful. It was such a blessing to me to be able to just sit there and rest, let alone the other girls who have been here for so much longer than I have.
In the late afternoon, the three little girls and us five big girls and headed via boda to the Bujagali Falls on the Nile. I had my first less-than-fabulous boda experience then; our driver was snippy, a little too excited to have Mandie and I as passengers on his boda, and characteristically inattentive to Mandie’s repeatedly-shouted instructions to wait for the other two bodas. We weren’t in any kind of danger, but it was very annoying with a healthy dose of humorous thrown as well.
The falls (once we finally got there and re-argued the price of the transportation with said annoying boda driver) were stunning. They are not tall like you’d normally think of “falls,” more like very big, very intense rapids. When we walked down the big hill to the falls themselves, we were able to walk right to the edge of the river. It was unbelievable. So vast. So unbelievably powerful. To stand on its edge, see it stretching out before you, and feel the rush of the water three feet away through vibrating through the ground is awesome and overwhelming. That amount of power is frightening in its very majesty.
We took pictures, especially of the babies, for quite a while there on the bank of the river and then I went and sat for a few moments alone on one of the rocks that dotted the waterline. I tried to take in whole scene: the intense green of the grass and red of the earth, the clarity and deep rush of the water, the thundering sound of the rapids, the immensity of the vast bowl of the blue sky stretched above me, but I couldn’t. I think I would have had to stay there for a long time to let it soak in. I wish I could go back, toting my notebook with me. There were so many things I wanted to write even as I sat there for a few minutes.
We stopped at one of the nice/American-y/place-where-tourists-go restaurants, called “2 Friends” for dinner on the way home; we had planned specifically to have a nice meal tonight as part of our stayation-y day. After passing the security guard at the entrance and being scanned (for bombs or knives, I suppose?), we were ushered into a beautiful enclosure of pavilioned tables surrounded by illuminated palm trees and connected by little winding paths. It was a strange sensation to step into this place when outside I had just passed the mounds of smoldering garbage and seen the huge trash-eating cranes stalking along the roof line of an abandoned house. I can only imagine that having this little oasis here is a blessing to Mandie and the other girls who live here. The food was a little more expensive and took a little longer than other places we’ve eaten, but that was because it was made fresh for us, from scratch, the service was attentive, and the surroundings were beautiful. It was a rest to my soul to be in that beautiful place, let alone the girls who have been here for so much longer.
Our evening was quite, a good ending to our relaxing day.
August 13, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
Today began early and with a bang with news of Rachel’s engagement back home in America. We all sat in the living room, reading things from her, skyping with her and Justin, looking at pictures of her ring and generally rejoicing from afar. A lovely way to start the morning.
After breakfast, we saddled everyone up and headed to town to get M.’s hair done. All the walking has meant that I am getting to know my way around Jinja relatively well, enough to know how to give a boda driver directions back to Mandie’s house if I get stranded somewhere. M. was not at all inclined to agree to her new hair-do, so that ended in disaster, mostly for Christina, M. and the guy trying to do the twisting of the hair. After Christina decided it wasn’t worth the pain (physically for M, and emotionally for her), we all trooped down the street to a little coffee shop where we fed the babies, got some snacks and talked over the hair debacle, our plans for the day and people (usually tourists) who, with rather abrupt rudeness, prod the girls with questions, assuming they have stolen the babies.
After our little lunch, we boda-ed home and put the babies down for much-needed naps. We took the chance of having the little ones asleep to go back to town to get a little bit of shopping done. Our boda ride there was one of the most humorous so far. Since Courtney had E. and Kate had a big backpack, Mandie, Christina and I all rode one boda. I sat on the back, not the middle, for the first time and it is QUITE different. Much more “keep-your-balance-by-engaging-your-abs-and-leaning-forward-as-hard-as-you-can-and-keep-your-tailbone-in-one-piece-when-going-over-bumps” than is the middle. However, as four people on one boda is a little squishy, Christina had the real winner when our driver literally sat on her. As in, ON her. We laughed the entire way into town. After some shopping and picking up some food at the supermarket (which to American eyes would seem more like a gas station shop in the Middle of Nowhere, USA) we caught bodas home. This time, I was on the back again, balancing a dozen eggs and some other groceries in my bag and trying not to pull on Courtney who was holding a sick and sleeping E. in the middle. I was glad I’d had the practice of the ride into town before this experience.
Later in the afternoon, Kate ran out and got rolex for us for dinner, which is something similar to a breakfast burrito: a patty of fried egg wrapped in a thick tortilla-like wrap called a chapatti. Hit that up with some freshly-chopped avocado and some salt, and it was delicious! I did not expect to have such good food on this trip. I mean, I wasn’t expecting nasty food, but I was definitely not prepared to love as many things as I’ve had.
We had a quiet evening, more or less. Little E is sick so the girls tested her for malaria with a kit we had purchased in town. I was not able to help as I haven’t had the Hep-B vaccine and needed to stay away from blood. I was disappointed to simply have to sit and watch. Malaria, HIV, hepatitis, etc. are so common here (even in children), but I am not yet used to it. E is just so tiny. It hurts my heart to see this pain in her, and everywhere else, so prevalent.
I have been writing a lot in the last few days. As an introvert, I recharge by being alone, and in a house with five girls and three babies, it’s hard to find that, so I’m feeling a little stretched. I can, of course, deal with it (for lack of a better term) as long as I need to, but it has been interesting for me to see how this aspect of my personality is activated here. The writing has been my way of recharging, for now. Concentrating my mind on recording the events of the day and the things that I am thinking or simply letting words flow onto the page helps me settle, process, and renew. I am beginning to understand, just a little bit, the strain of living here. It wears on you, little by little, and although I’m sure there is an adjustment curve, I know it does not ever get easy. My admiration for Mandie, Rachel, Christina and everyone else that lives here grows every day. Whether or not I feel God leading me to act out my faith and convictions in this particular way, I am so grateful to have had even a taste of this way of living out love. It is definitely something that takes a strength that is beyond human-creation. If n these 10 days, God is this good to me, I can only imagine the deep reservoirs of love, strength and care he has for those he has living here.
Jinja, Uganda
Courtney and I got to join in on the kind of day that the girls here take when they need a restful, staycation day in the midst of their busy lives. We made crepes again for breakfast, then grabbed some workout clothes, Mobied up the babies, and set out on a long, workout-ish walk. Trust me, carrying a baby and walking quickly on the Ugandan roads in the hot sun wears you out! We power-walked for about 45 minutes (minus the vigorous arm-swinging; we left that to the 1980’s workout pros) before stopping at a small hotel overlooking the Nile from across the road to buy some water. We sat in their little patio and rested for a while, played with the babies, chugged our water, and generally cooled down from our walk. We traversed back, Courtney and I Mobied to E. and A.R. respectively, and Christina, Mandie and Kate taking turns with M. since she’s heavier than the babies. The girls live near a tourist hotel and once we got home, we grabbed some protein bars for lunch, put the little babies down for their naps, got M. into her bathing suit, and headed to the hotel’s pool for some sun and splashing. We got to stay there for a few hours; watching M. (complete with floaties and water toys) play with Courtney in the pool was so fun. It seemed to make her so joyful. It was such a blessing to me to be able to just sit there and rest, let alone the other girls who have been here for so much longer than I have.
In the late afternoon, the three little girls and us five big girls and headed via boda to the Bujagali Falls on the Nile. I had my first less-than-fabulous boda experience then; our driver was snippy, a little too excited to have Mandie and I as passengers on his boda, and characteristically inattentive to Mandie’s repeatedly-shouted instructions to wait for the other two bodas. We weren’t in any kind of danger, but it was very annoying with a healthy dose of humorous thrown as well.
The falls (once we finally got there and re-argued the price of the transportation with said annoying boda driver) were stunning. They are not tall like you’d normally think of “falls,” more like very big, very intense rapids. When we walked down the big hill to the falls themselves, we were able to walk right to the edge of the river. It was unbelievable. So vast. So unbelievably powerful. To stand on its edge, see it stretching out before you, and feel the rush of the water three feet away through vibrating through the ground is awesome and overwhelming. That amount of power is frightening in its very majesty.
We took pictures, especially of the babies, for quite a while there on the bank of the river and then I went and sat for a few moments alone on one of the rocks that dotted the waterline. I tried to take in whole scene: the intense green of the grass and red of the earth, the clarity and deep rush of the water, the thundering sound of the rapids, the immensity of the vast bowl of the blue sky stretched above me, but I couldn’t. I think I would have had to stay there for a long time to let it soak in. I wish I could go back, toting my notebook with me. There were so many things I wanted to write even as I sat there for a few minutes.
We stopped at one of the nice/American-y/place-where-tourists-go restaurants, called “2 Friends” for dinner on the way home; we had planned specifically to have a nice meal tonight as part of our stayation-y day. After passing the security guard at the entrance and being scanned (for bombs or knives, I suppose?), we were ushered into a beautiful enclosure of pavilioned tables surrounded by illuminated palm trees and connected by little winding paths. It was a strange sensation to step into this place when outside I had just passed the mounds of smoldering garbage and seen the huge trash-eating cranes stalking along the roof line of an abandoned house. I can only imagine that having this little oasis here is a blessing to Mandie and the other girls who live here. The food was a little more expensive and took a little longer than other places we’ve eaten, but that was because it was made fresh for us, from scratch, the service was attentive, and the surroundings were beautiful. It was a rest to my soul to be in that beautiful place, let alone the girls who have been here for so much longer.
Our evening was quite, a good ending to our relaxing day.
August 13, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
Today began early and with a bang with news of Rachel’s engagement back home in America. We all sat in the living room, reading things from her, skyping with her and Justin, looking at pictures of her ring and generally rejoicing from afar. A lovely way to start the morning.
After breakfast, we saddled everyone up and headed to town to get M.’s hair done. All the walking has meant that I am getting to know my way around Jinja relatively well, enough to know how to give a boda driver directions back to Mandie’s house if I get stranded somewhere. M. was not at all inclined to agree to her new hair-do, so that ended in disaster, mostly for Christina, M. and the guy trying to do the twisting of the hair. After Christina decided it wasn’t worth the pain (physically for M, and emotionally for her), we all trooped down the street to a little coffee shop where we fed the babies, got some snacks and talked over the hair debacle, our plans for the day and people (usually tourists) who, with rather abrupt rudeness, prod the girls with questions, assuming they have stolen the babies.
After our little lunch, we boda-ed home and put the babies down for much-needed naps. We took the chance of having the little ones asleep to go back to town to get a little bit of shopping done. Our boda ride there was one of the most humorous so far. Since Courtney had E. and Kate had a big backpack, Mandie, Christina and I all rode one boda. I sat on the back, not the middle, for the first time and it is QUITE different. Much more “keep-your-balance-by-engaging-your-abs-and-leaning-forward-as-hard-as-you-can-and-keep-your-tailbone-in-one-piece-when-going-over-bumps” than is the middle. However, as four people on one boda is a little squishy, Christina had the real winner when our driver literally sat on her. As in, ON her. We laughed the entire way into town. After some shopping and picking up some food at the supermarket (which to American eyes would seem more like a gas station shop in the Middle of Nowhere, USA) we caught bodas home. This time, I was on the back again, balancing a dozen eggs and some other groceries in my bag and trying not to pull on Courtney who was holding a sick and sleeping E. in the middle. I was glad I’d had the practice of the ride into town before this experience.
Later in the afternoon, Kate ran out and got rolex for us for dinner, which is something similar to a breakfast burrito: a patty of fried egg wrapped in a thick tortilla-like wrap called a chapatti. Hit that up with some freshly-chopped avocado and some salt, and it was delicious! I did not expect to have such good food on this trip. I mean, I wasn’t expecting nasty food, but I was definitely not prepared to love as many things as I’ve had.
We had a quiet evening, more or less. Little E is sick so the girls tested her for malaria with a kit we had purchased in town. I was not able to help as I haven’t had the Hep-B vaccine and needed to stay away from blood. I was disappointed to simply have to sit and watch. Malaria, HIV, hepatitis, etc. are so common here (even in children), but I am not yet used to it. E is just so tiny. It hurts my heart to see this pain in her, and everywhere else, so prevalent.
I have been writing a lot in the last few days. As an introvert, I recharge by being alone, and in a house with five girls and three babies, it’s hard to find that, so I’m feeling a little stretched. I can, of course, deal with it (for lack of a better term) as long as I need to, but it has been interesting for me to see how this aspect of my personality is activated here. The writing has been my way of recharging, for now. Concentrating my mind on recording the events of the day and the things that I am thinking or simply letting words flow onto the page helps me settle, process, and renew. I am beginning to understand, just a little bit, the strain of living here. It wears on you, little by little, and although I’m sure there is an adjustment curve, I know it does not ever get easy. My admiration for Mandie, Rachel, Christina and everyone else that lives here grows every day. Whether or not I feel God leading me to act out my faith and convictions in this particular way, I am so grateful to have had even a taste of this way of living out love. It is definitely something that takes a strength that is beyond human-creation. If n these 10 days, God is this good to me, I can only imagine the deep reservoirs of love, strength and care he has for those he has living here.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Rain, naps, feeding tubes, and walking.
August 11, 2011
Because Christina was not with us this morning, and because we had no eggs, we did not have crepes for breakfast this morning. It was rather sad; but we stocked up on eggs this afternoon so the yummy French dish is back on the menu for tomorrow morning.
As it’s the rainy season, it rained all night and was sprinkling off and on all day today, making the air so cool and clear. When I stand at the doorway and look out into the courtyard, I can hear the raindrops hitting the stone and the birds singing, very faintly, and little breezes that run through the leaves of the banana trees that dot the ground outside the wall surrounding the house.
We took the babies, A.R. and E., to get their first haircuts today. Well, head-shaves more than haircuts. We Mobi-ed up and walked into Jinja along the red-muddy roads with passing boda drivers and other chatting people. I had the chance to carry E. today; she was so cuddly today and so alert and interested in what was going on. Both babies were very good for their haircuts and seemed to like having their hoods pulled up to keep their little heads protected from the drizzle. After the beauty shop (where all the stylists were male, which I thought was an interesting change from normalcy in the US), we walked down the street to a little coffee shop. We had hot chocolate, bottled water, French fries for M., and a pot of tea (for me, of course) on the little placemat-covered tables between the couches. We grabbed bodas for the ride home. Courtney and I, each Mobied to a baby, rode one boda together. We felt thou thoroughly boda-and-baby-proficient.
We had lunch at home and then waited for the rain to stop so we could head out to Ekisa, an orphanage for kids under five with special needs. Courtney and I both took good naps after lunch, which for both of is very uncharacteristic. It was awesome; I have SO been missing out for the past 21 years. We made the 30 minute walk to Ekisa and it was wonderful to see the kids there. As soon as we opened the gate, the ones who were playing outside jumped up with huge smiles on their faces and lunged at us for hugs and hand-shakes. They are so loving and genuine. One of the little girls there had recently had a feeding tube put in, and when we saw her, Mandie and Courtney realized the dressing needed desperately to be changed. We grabbed gloves, gauze, saline, alcohol swabs and tape and I assisted Mandie in a dressing change on a porch in Africa, in my sock feet (because we had to take off our shoes when entering the house), surrounded by preciously-noisy special needs children and nosy pet dogs, for a six year old that was the size, if not the length, of a 1 year old.
We hailed bodas for the ride back. Happily, a little while after we got home, the power came back on, which is a blessing. We weren’t sure when (or if) it would come back in the near future. Dinner tonight is matoke and g-nut sauce, a high-protein, super filling dish of savory mashed bananas with a sauce made of peanuts. We added in cut up avocado for more nutrition and variety. It was interesting. Not bad, but just different.
We had another jam session tonight after dinner. Christina bought a drum for M. and she added in an entirely new level of awesomeness to our music-making this evening. Corresponding, blogging, and technology communication are the order of the evening after this long but quiet African day.
Because Christina was not with us this morning, and because we had no eggs, we did not have crepes for breakfast this morning. It was rather sad; but we stocked up on eggs this afternoon so the yummy French dish is back on the menu for tomorrow morning.
As it’s the rainy season, it rained all night and was sprinkling off and on all day today, making the air so cool and clear. When I stand at the doorway and look out into the courtyard, I can hear the raindrops hitting the stone and the birds singing, very faintly, and little breezes that run through the leaves of the banana trees that dot the ground outside the wall surrounding the house.
We took the babies, A.R. and E., to get their first haircuts today. Well, head-shaves more than haircuts. We Mobi-ed up and walked into Jinja along the red-muddy roads with passing boda drivers and other chatting people. I had the chance to carry E. today; she was so cuddly today and so alert and interested in what was going on. Both babies were very good for their haircuts and seemed to like having their hoods pulled up to keep their little heads protected from the drizzle. After the beauty shop (where all the stylists were male, which I thought was an interesting change from normalcy in the US), we walked down the street to a little coffee shop. We had hot chocolate, bottled water, French fries for M., and a pot of tea (for me, of course) on the little placemat-covered tables between the couches. We grabbed bodas for the ride home. Courtney and I, each Mobied to a baby, rode one boda together. We felt thou thoroughly boda-and-baby-proficient.
We had lunch at home and then waited for the rain to stop so we could head out to Ekisa, an orphanage for kids under five with special needs. Courtney and I both took good naps after lunch, which for both of is very uncharacteristic. It was awesome; I have SO been missing out for the past 21 years. We made the 30 minute walk to Ekisa and it was wonderful to see the kids there. As soon as we opened the gate, the ones who were playing outside jumped up with huge smiles on their faces and lunged at us for hugs and hand-shakes. They are so loving and genuine. One of the little girls there had recently had a feeding tube put in, and when we saw her, Mandie and Courtney realized the dressing needed desperately to be changed. We grabbed gloves, gauze, saline, alcohol swabs and tape and I assisted Mandie in a dressing change on a porch in Africa, in my sock feet (because we had to take off our shoes when entering the house), surrounded by preciously-noisy special needs children and nosy pet dogs, for a six year old that was the size, if not the length, of a 1 year old.
We hailed bodas for the ride back. Happily, a little while after we got home, the power came back on, which is a blessing. We weren’t sure when (or if) it would come back in the near future. Dinner tonight is matoke and g-nut sauce, a high-protein, super filling dish of savory mashed bananas with a sauce made of peanuts. We added in cut up avocado for more nutrition and variety. It was interesting. Not bad, but just different.
We had another jam session tonight after dinner. Christina bought a drum for M. and she added in an entirely new level of awesomeness to our music-making this evening. Corresponding, blogging, and technology communication are the order of the evening after this long but quiet African day.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Mobis, bodas, babies and friends
August 10, 2011
Jinja, Uganda, Africa; Mandie’s House
A good night’s sleep does wonders (and I mean WONDERS) after a 30 hour day of travel. Last night was chill, filled with babies, singing, dinner which consisted of rice, beans and avocado, and unpacking. I stayed up until 9:30 because I didn’t feel sleepy (running on adrenalin, according to Mandie) but as soon as I laid down, I was out. And when I say out, I mean OUT. O. U. T. I didn’t hear the babies, I didn’t hear Mandie get in bed, I didn’t hear the other girl staying in our room, Sarah, come home from Bible study, nothing. I felt so much better this morning although the only way to describe my brain is that of an intense feeling of fuzziness. Just a leeetle bit off. But either a nap (which I, sadly, am not prone to) or one more good sleep will, I’m sure, get rid of that fuzziness pronto.
We made crepes for breakfast this morning, which were delicious. I usually have yogurt or oatmeal for breakfast so crepes in Uganda was quite the treat. This house is FULL of baby sounds and baby stuff and little fruit flies and laughter and singing and books and our unwelcomed friend Gus, the rat, who we are currently trying to lure out of Sarah’s room and onto a board covered in glue and cheese. We think that will get him the message that he is not wanted here.
After breakfast Courtney, Mandie, Christina, Memae, A.R. and E. and I all took a walk. I got Mobi-ed up for the first time and carried A.R. the entire trip which was a treat for me. This may not be as much of a treat by the conclusion on my trip, but at this point, it is fun. She’s so cuddly. Whoever invented Mobis is a genius. As this is the rainy season, everything is green here, flowers are pouring over sides of walls, and there’s grass and leaves and verdure everywhere. It could almost be called lush except for the fact that all this is set against the backdrop of the red clay and dust that coats the roads and the ground. As we walked along, I kept getting a whiff of something burning, which was like Christmas at first but then under that first scent was a more acrid one which I only identified as burning garbage when we passed a smoldering heap of it. This whole trip is a lesson in the unexpected, even if it’s something as simple as azure-blue flowers falling onto deep red earth, or a scent that reminds you of Christmas that is actually incinerating trash.
We walked for almost an hour, up hills, around corners, past homes and offices that ranged from being built of cardboard to walled-in with some landscaping and greenery around them, and into Jinja. We were all hot, sweaty and tired by the time we got there, so I got to have another first of the trip: my first boda ride. Bodas are motorcycle taxis, and they are everywhere and they weave in and out of everything that may possibly be happening on or next to the streets and they are awesome. They dropped us for lunch at a cool restaurant whose shade and couch-y things were a nice break after our walk. We ordered lunch then Mandie, Courtney and I (each still Mobi-ed up) climbed up the stairwell of the apartment building nextdoor to its roof to take in the view of the Nile. It was beautiful; again, as it’s the rainy season, the places that are green are vividly green and they contrast sharply with the red of the earth and the brown the city. The river, however, glowed a bright, light blue. The colors here seem very intense, maybe because I’m so used the heat-blighted-ness of sunny S.C… Lunch was a delish affair of Cokes, water, onion rings (amazing), fries, beef gyros, veggies, mango smoothies and chatting.
On Mandie’s agenda today was a trip to an orphanage to pick up some of the children being adopted to bring them back here to skype with their families. In interests of safety and convenience, we boda-ed back to Mandie’s house to dropped off the babies, then hailed a new set off bodas and headed out on the 30 minute ride to the orphanage. Mandie and I rode on one together, which was the first time we’d gotten to spend as just the two of us and we got to talk for while which was so nice. We talked about life, and Jesus, and change, and growth, and decisions and Uganda. By that time we had arrived and picked up the kids and set out toward home, 3 passengers on each boda, minus the driver. It’s actually quite comfortable. Only a few hiccups on this ride, a couple neck-jarring brakings, a few closer-than-comfortable passes with other vehicles, and one “you’re-not-listening-to-me-you-have-to-be-in-front-because-they-don’t-know-where-they’re-going-and-look-now-they’ve-missed-the-turn-and-are-going-to-be-lost!” moment between Mandie and our boda driver.
While we waited for it to become a decent skype-able time in America, we played around in the courtyard with a big bucket of water, some water guns and balloons. Well, I didn’t actually play, I’m sitting here and writing, but everyone else played. We got “ice cream” (which is really more like Italian ice) from the ice cream-boda man who’s the-ice cream-man-is-here song is “My Heart Will Go On.” Implying the ice cream is worth following to the ends of the earth? I’m not sure… The kids are skyping now though, and it’s beautiful to see two sets of faces, one here and the other thousands of miles away, wreathed in smiles. Literally. Joy like pours into and out of the computer screen.
I’m not sure what’s happening this evening. Taking the kids back to the orphanage, I know, and also food (of course). But we ARE celebrating a wonderful anniversary tonight: today marks the one-year anniversary of Mandie’s arrival in Uganda! The amazing things that God has done in that time are staggering and unexpected and so unbelievably beautiful. I, who am least of all those involved, am in awe. I’m so lucky to be seeing even a little bit firsthand.
Jinja, Uganda, Africa; Mandie’s House
A good night’s sleep does wonders (and I mean WONDERS) after a 30 hour day of travel. Last night was chill, filled with babies, singing, dinner which consisted of rice, beans and avocado, and unpacking. I stayed up until 9:30 because I didn’t feel sleepy (running on adrenalin, according to Mandie) but as soon as I laid down, I was out. And when I say out, I mean OUT. O. U. T. I didn’t hear the babies, I didn’t hear Mandie get in bed, I didn’t hear the other girl staying in our room, Sarah, come home from Bible study, nothing. I felt so much better this morning although the only way to describe my brain is that of an intense feeling of fuzziness. Just a leeetle bit off. But either a nap (which I, sadly, am not prone to) or one more good sleep will, I’m sure, get rid of that fuzziness pronto.
We made crepes for breakfast this morning, which were delicious. I usually have yogurt or oatmeal for breakfast so crepes in Uganda was quite the treat. This house is FULL of baby sounds and baby stuff and little fruit flies and laughter and singing and books and our unwelcomed friend Gus, the rat, who we are currently trying to lure out of Sarah’s room and onto a board covered in glue and cheese. We think that will get him the message that he is not wanted here.
After breakfast Courtney, Mandie, Christina, Memae, A.R. and E. and I all took a walk. I got Mobi-ed up for the first time and carried A.R. the entire trip which was a treat for me. This may not be as much of a treat by the conclusion on my trip, but at this point, it is fun. She’s so cuddly. Whoever invented Mobis is a genius. As this is the rainy season, everything is green here, flowers are pouring over sides of walls, and there’s grass and leaves and verdure everywhere. It could almost be called lush except for the fact that all this is set against the backdrop of the red clay and dust that coats the roads and the ground. As we walked along, I kept getting a whiff of something burning, which was like Christmas at first but then under that first scent was a more acrid one which I only identified as burning garbage when we passed a smoldering heap of it. This whole trip is a lesson in the unexpected, even if it’s something as simple as azure-blue flowers falling onto deep red earth, or a scent that reminds you of Christmas that is actually incinerating trash.
We walked for almost an hour, up hills, around corners, past homes and offices that ranged from being built of cardboard to walled-in with some landscaping and greenery around them, and into Jinja. We were all hot, sweaty and tired by the time we got there, so I got to have another first of the trip: my first boda ride. Bodas are motorcycle taxis, and they are everywhere and they weave in and out of everything that may possibly be happening on or next to the streets and they are awesome. They dropped us for lunch at a cool restaurant whose shade and couch-y things were a nice break after our walk. We ordered lunch then Mandie, Courtney and I (each still Mobi-ed up) climbed up the stairwell of the apartment building nextdoor to its roof to take in the view of the Nile. It was beautiful; again, as it’s the rainy season, the places that are green are vividly green and they contrast sharply with the red of the earth and the brown the city. The river, however, glowed a bright, light blue. The colors here seem very intense, maybe because I’m so used the heat-blighted-ness of sunny S.C… Lunch was a delish affair of Cokes, water, onion rings (amazing), fries, beef gyros, veggies, mango smoothies and chatting.
On Mandie’s agenda today was a trip to an orphanage to pick up some of the children being adopted to bring them back here to skype with their families. In interests of safety and convenience, we boda-ed back to Mandie’s house to dropped off the babies, then hailed a new set off bodas and headed out on the 30 minute ride to the orphanage. Mandie and I rode on one together, which was the first time we’d gotten to spend as just the two of us and we got to talk for while which was so nice. We talked about life, and Jesus, and change, and growth, and decisions and Uganda. By that time we had arrived and picked up the kids and set out toward home, 3 passengers on each boda, minus the driver. It’s actually quite comfortable. Only a few hiccups on this ride, a couple neck-jarring brakings, a few closer-than-comfortable passes with other vehicles, and one “you’re-not-listening-to-me-you-have-to-be-in-front-because-they-don’t-know-where-they’re-going-and-look-now-they’ve-missed-the-turn-and-are-going-to-be-lost!” moment between Mandie and our boda driver.
While we waited for it to become a decent skype-able time in America, we played around in the courtyard with a big bucket of water, some water guns and balloons. Well, I didn’t actually play, I’m sitting here and writing, but everyone else played. We got “ice cream” (which is really more like Italian ice) from the ice cream-boda man who’s the-ice cream-man-is-here song is “My Heart Will Go On.” Implying the ice cream is worth following to the ends of the earth? I’m not sure… The kids are skyping now though, and it’s beautiful to see two sets of faces, one here and the other thousands of miles away, wreathed in smiles. Literally. Joy like pours into and out of the computer screen.
I’m not sure what’s happening this evening. Taking the kids back to the orphanage, I know, and also food (of course). But we ARE celebrating a wonderful anniversary tonight: today marks the one-year anniversary of Mandie’s arrival in Uganda! The amazing things that God has done in that time are staggering and unexpected and so unbelievably beautiful. I, who am least of all those involved, am in awe. I’m so lucky to be seeing even a little bit firsthand.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
And now...to Africa!
12:14pm Monday August 8, 2011
Somewhere off the coast America…well, maybe a good chunk over the ocean by now…
It’s hard for me to believe that I am in the air for second international trip in two months. I am so unbelievably lucky to have traveled as much as I have in my life, let alone hit up both Ireland and Africa in one summer.
Minus a small hiccough around 9:00 last night when we got a notification that our 5:50 am flight had been mysteriously cancelled which caused 45 minutes of flurrying to get us rerouted, our travels today have gone completely smoothly. Even my alarm going off at 3:30am wasn’t unbearable as I woke up in my parents’ house with our cat purring away on my chest. There are worse ways to start an adventure such as this…
Once we got to Washington where we had a little extra time on our layover and after standing in our Ethiopian Airlines check-in line for multiple multiplications of 5 minute chunks (we kept ourselves busy with a discussion of which Disney character we wanted to be today, which Disney movie was the best, and our favorite fast-food restaurants), Courtney and I made a beeline for a breakfast sandwich place we had passed in their airport and feasted sumptuously on sausage/bacon, egg and cheese paninis. They were delicious.
We boarded our plane and got underway with no issues and perfectly on time. The 777 we’re on is so wide and high-ceilinged and white-toned that it feels like a classroom, not a tube filled with humans hurtling through the sky, and now, writing on my laptop, I feel like I could easily be taking notes in school, albeit in a rather cramped (but uncommonly plushy) seat. Courtney was able to switch seats so now we’re sitting together on this mammoth 13 hour flight, which is a blessing. We’ve been laughing a lot, she’s been listening as I tell her about my analytical discoveries in e. e. cummings’ works, and I’ve been cheering her on in her plane-wide computerized Sudoku tournament. At this point, she’s 12th on the plane (impressive) beaten out only by 39H and 22H. I’ll continue rooting for 22F though. I have great faith she’ll make it to #1 in the next nine hours or so. Then we’ll celebrate (probably by sharing one of the mini bottles of wine and trying to sleep. We’re party animals, obviously).
11:46pm my time, or 6:46 am Africa time; Six hours later….
The sun is rising over western Africa. I can barely see out of the window across the aisle from me but I can make out the sky glowing bright orange, fading gradually to blue then violet as my eye moves upward over the tip of the airplane’s wing. According to my map of our flight, we are somewhere over Jeddah, having traveled 6595 miles in the last eleven hours from Washington D.C.
I am interested to see the airport at Addis Ababa in Ethiopia. Although I’ve traveled many places in my life, a country that is essentially different in its prosperity level from mine is not something that has crossed my path before. Ireland is a far cry from Africa. It’s a huge blessing to have Courtney here on this trip with me. It’s been very smooth so far, but navigating the return journey alone will be easier having done it once with someone. I can’t believe that I’ll be in Africa and seeing Mandie and the babies in a few (or more than a few, but who’s counting?) hours. Years and years ago, when I was probably eight or nine, I remember laying in my bed trying to fall asleep when I heard resoundingly in my head the word, “Africa!” This was at the point where I thought that in order to be a “good Christian” one had to be a missionary to Africa, and I didn’t think I wanted to be a missionary to Africa, and was terrified that I would “have” to. I was petrified when I heard that word, “Africa!” resounding in my head. But now I’m not. I know God uses and flows through us in any place and through each of our individual stories, whether it be in America, or Africa, or Cuba, or Haiti or Canada. Not all are called to serve our Father and others in a different country. I, for one, think I may be used as locally as my neighbors or someone in my community, but that does not mean I can’t be in other places. Although all those years ago, I was scared God was “calling” me to go to Africa, today I believe He just might have been telling me that I should get used to the fact that I’d be going someday. I’m not even sure I’m going to be “used” or to do something (which sounds so altruistic and admirable, which it is) for others. I think it’s much more likely that God is taking me there to give me something; it’s not necessarily a trip where I could feel “better” about myself for “doing good,” but instead, God will be giving to me when I thought the only reason I could go to Africa was to serve. He has a funny way of turning our preconceived notions on their heads and surprising us with new ways of thinking and unexpected outcomes to things for which we assumed we knew the plan…
I have no idea what the next ten days hold for me or Mandie or Courtney or anyone else I will encounter, child or adult. But I’m willing to see and adapt. I’m learning how to let go of my plans, be spontaneous if you will. However, spontaneity with God overlooking my lack-of-plan is much more restful than simply living with no direction or plan whatsoever. I don’t necessarily know what my next step or next decision or next experience will be, but even while I am letting go of that control, I know that somehow, someone does know what my tomorrow holds. Someone knows the decisions I make before I make them, but at the same time still allows me to make each selection as I so choose in His gift of free will. What a strange paradox, that of personal, un-pre-planned choice versus a foreknowledge by someone of those choices (although “versus” sounds rather adversarial and I don’t mean it to; I think the two can coexist perfectly). Put simply, I believe I get to make the choices in my life that steer my course from place to place, but that God simply knows those choices even before I do. In this knowledge, he has not violated the freewill he gave me. Instead in his intimate and infinite knowledge of me and this world, he simply knows the choice I will make. Simple as that.
So here’s to something old, in that I heard the pre-echo of this trip some thirteen years ago; and to some new, in that I am excitedly venturing far into a part of my Self that I did not know existed. It will be an adventure.
And by the way, Ethiopian Airlines is the BEST simply because 1) they have Carlsberg, which is my favorite beer, but 2) [and most importantly] the serve steaming hot, and super strong black tea after each meal.
These thirteen hours flew by. I’m almost to Africa.
We are safely in Mandie’s house at Jinja! After buying our visas and getting our bags, we met up with Mandie easily. It was SO good to see her. She had one of the babies, A.R., with her and after our first meeting, I got to cuddle her for a long time. She’s such a snuggle monkey We ran some errands and picked up two of the other girls who live with Mandie and made the 2 hour drive back here to Jinja. Our plan is to have dinner and chill out this evening, no big plans. I’ll continue to write (more interestingly than this last paragraph I dearly hope) tomorrow or later tonight. This is and will continue to be an adventure, and I’m loving it.
Somewhere off the coast America…well, maybe a good chunk over the ocean by now…
It’s hard for me to believe that I am in the air for second international trip in two months. I am so unbelievably lucky to have traveled as much as I have in my life, let alone hit up both Ireland and Africa in one summer.
Minus a small hiccough around 9:00 last night when we got a notification that our 5:50 am flight had been mysteriously cancelled which caused 45 minutes of flurrying to get us rerouted, our travels today have gone completely smoothly. Even my alarm going off at 3:30am wasn’t unbearable as I woke up in my parents’ house with our cat purring away on my chest. There are worse ways to start an adventure such as this…
Once we got to Washington where we had a little extra time on our layover and after standing in our Ethiopian Airlines check-in line for multiple multiplications of 5 minute chunks (we kept ourselves busy with a discussion of which Disney character we wanted to be today, which Disney movie was the best, and our favorite fast-food restaurants), Courtney and I made a beeline for a breakfast sandwich place we had passed in their airport and feasted sumptuously on sausage/bacon, egg and cheese paninis. They were delicious.
We boarded our plane and got underway with no issues and perfectly on time. The 777 we’re on is so wide and high-ceilinged and white-toned that it feels like a classroom, not a tube filled with humans hurtling through the sky, and now, writing on my laptop, I feel like I could easily be taking notes in school, albeit in a rather cramped (but uncommonly plushy) seat. Courtney was able to switch seats so now we’re sitting together on this mammoth 13 hour flight, which is a blessing. We’ve been laughing a lot, she’s been listening as I tell her about my analytical discoveries in e. e. cummings’ works, and I’ve been cheering her on in her plane-wide computerized Sudoku tournament. At this point, she’s 12th on the plane (impressive) beaten out only by 39H and 22H. I’ll continue rooting for 22F though. I have great faith she’ll make it to #1 in the next nine hours or so. Then we’ll celebrate (probably by sharing one of the mini bottles of wine and trying to sleep. We’re party animals, obviously).
11:46pm my time, or 6:46 am Africa time; Six hours later….
The sun is rising over western Africa. I can barely see out of the window across the aisle from me but I can make out the sky glowing bright orange, fading gradually to blue then violet as my eye moves upward over the tip of the airplane’s wing. According to my map of our flight, we are somewhere over Jeddah, having traveled 6595 miles in the last eleven hours from Washington D.C.
I am interested to see the airport at Addis Ababa in Ethiopia. Although I’ve traveled many places in my life, a country that is essentially different in its prosperity level from mine is not something that has crossed my path before. Ireland is a far cry from Africa. It’s a huge blessing to have Courtney here on this trip with me. It’s been very smooth so far, but navigating the return journey alone will be easier having done it once with someone. I can’t believe that I’ll be in Africa and seeing Mandie and the babies in a few (or more than a few, but who’s counting?) hours. Years and years ago, when I was probably eight or nine, I remember laying in my bed trying to fall asleep when I heard resoundingly in my head the word, “Africa!” This was at the point where I thought that in order to be a “good Christian” one had to be a missionary to Africa, and I didn’t think I wanted to be a missionary to Africa, and was terrified that I would “have” to. I was petrified when I heard that word, “Africa!” resounding in my head. But now I’m not. I know God uses and flows through us in any place and through each of our individual stories, whether it be in America, or Africa, or Cuba, or Haiti or Canada. Not all are called to serve our Father and others in a different country. I, for one, think I may be used as locally as my neighbors or someone in my community, but that does not mean I can’t be in other places. Although all those years ago, I was scared God was “calling” me to go to Africa, today I believe He just might have been telling me that I should get used to the fact that I’d be going someday. I’m not even sure I’m going to be “used” or to do something (which sounds so altruistic and admirable, which it is) for others. I think it’s much more likely that God is taking me there to give me something; it’s not necessarily a trip where I could feel “better” about myself for “doing good,” but instead, God will be giving to me when I thought the only reason I could go to Africa was to serve. He has a funny way of turning our preconceived notions on their heads and surprising us with new ways of thinking and unexpected outcomes to things for which we assumed we knew the plan…
I have no idea what the next ten days hold for me or Mandie or Courtney or anyone else I will encounter, child or adult. But I’m willing to see and adapt. I’m learning how to let go of my plans, be spontaneous if you will. However, spontaneity with God overlooking my lack-of-plan is much more restful than simply living with no direction or plan whatsoever. I don’t necessarily know what my next step or next decision or next experience will be, but even while I am letting go of that control, I know that somehow, someone does know what my tomorrow holds. Someone knows the decisions I make before I make them, but at the same time still allows me to make each selection as I so choose in His gift of free will. What a strange paradox, that of personal, un-pre-planned choice versus a foreknowledge by someone of those choices (although “versus” sounds rather adversarial and I don’t mean it to; I think the two can coexist perfectly). Put simply, I believe I get to make the choices in my life that steer my course from place to place, but that God simply knows those choices even before I do. In this knowledge, he has not violated the freewill he gave me. Instead in his intimate and infinite knowledge of me and this world, he simply knows the choice I will make. Simple as that.
So here’s to something old, in that I heard the pre-echo of this trip some thirteen years ago; and to some new, in that I am excitedly venturing far into a part of my Self that I did not know existed. It will be an adventure.
And by the way, Ethiopian Airlines is the BEST simply because 1) they have Carlsberg, which is my favorite beer, but 2) [and most importantly] the serve steaming hot, and super strong black tea after each meal.
These thirteen hours flew by. I’m almost to Africa.
We are safely in Mandie’s house at Jinja! After buying our visas and getting our bags, we met up with Mandie easily. It was SO good to see her. She had one of the babies, A.R., with her and after our first meeting, I got to cuddle her for a long time. She’s such a snuggle monkey We ran some errands and picked up two of the other girls who live with Mandie and made the 2 hour drive back here to Jinja. Our plan is to have dinner and chill out this evening, no big plans. I’ll continue to write (more interestingly than this last paragraph I dearly hope) tomorrow or later tonight. This is and will continue to be an adventure, and I’m loving it.
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