The Ugandan Experience

A sign they made for us at Holy Trinity Community

So, I am sitting here on the floor of my room and wondering what it is I am going to write about. A thoughtful soul told me that I did not mention my twin brother (waiswa, as he is called here) in any blog posts, so I set out to rectify that mistake. But as I looked back, I see that he has lied to me. Indeed, I mentioned Derek in two posts. ;)

Even still, maybe some of you are wondering what his experience was during his time here. Well, you will have to ask him! I invited him to write a post as a guest blogger, but he declined. As you recall, Derek came with me for the first two weeks of my trip. He wanted to accompany me while I traveled and also to be able to meet some of the people I would be working with and see the places where I would stay.

I will say, it was very good to have him here for those two weeks. It gave me a sense of security and familiarity, while I was settling in to a new place. It was also nice to have a fellow mzungu to talk and joke with. It is good that we get along well because we were with each other all the time, even sleeping in the same room, and he kept using my phone airtime and internet data to send messages to people back home! But many months ago, I prayed and fasted, asking God to find me someone to travel with. And so, in answer to that prayer, I know it was He who chose Derek….and He had a purpose in doing so. Not only did Derek’s service here make a great impression on all those he met (they often ask about him), but I know that God was working in his heart at the same time, through the unique experiences, the holy conversations and the many daily Masses he attended with me.  

I also tried to make sure that Derek got the full Ugandan experience. Let me explain what I mean – maybe it will provide a better snapshot of the country and culture here, which you might also enjoy.

•  In Kampala, he was overwhelmed when we stopped the car in town and it was swarmed by 25 street vendors all shoving food in our faces.
•  He took a picture at the Equator.
• He ate chapatti (fry bread), as well as a “rolex” (eggs wrapped in chapatti). He also enjoyed ground nuts, matooke, posho, cassava, pumpkin leaves, papaya, and jackfruit. Unfortunately, he didn’t get to eat any grasshoppers, because it’s not the season for grasshoppers…..and because he’s a vegetarian.
• He rode a boda-boda (a motorcycle taxi - common means of transport) with 3 adult passengers and a driver. Feeling claustrophobic? In Rwanda, this would be illegal, but in Uganda, if you can fit that many people on the motorcycle, more power to you! Boda-bodas can also be seen carrying just about anything else: pigs, chickens, bananas, pineapples, couches….
•  He bargained with a store owner in order to buy a flash drive. Prices on most things are negotiable. The first shop told him a ridiculously high price, the second shop was slightly more reasonable, and the third started high but was willing to strike a deal when Derek turned to walk away.
•  Every Saturday and Sunday, he had no electricity.
• Every day, he wondered if we were going to be fed dinner, because dinner doesn’t begin until at least 8:30pm, but usually later than 9.
• He was woken up every morning by the beat of an African drum.
• He washed his clothes by hand.
• He used a pit latrine.
• He saw Lake Victoria….from a few different angles, I believe.
•  He went on a safari at Lake Mburo National Park, and saw zebras, impalas, warthogs, baboons, monkeys, waterbucks, antelopes, buffalos and hippos in their natural habitat.

Should I keep going?

Remember, Derek:

When the mosquito bites, when the wasp stings, when you’re feeling sad… Just think of a few of these wonderful things…..then you won’t feel soooooooo bad!

I know you all were praying for him, so on Derek’s behalf, thank you!  I know he enjoyed his time in Uganda. Maybe some of his experiences will entice you to come too. J

Hehehe....

Hi, Mzungu!

Last week, in the Scripture readings, there were a few instances where Jesus was caught trying to go somewhere without being seen, and every time the people found him and came to him with some need. It says that they “ran throughout the whole region and carried to sick on mats to wherever they heard that Jesus was” (Mk 6:55). I imagine Jesus became pretty tired sometimes and wanted to just slip away unnoticed for some alone time with the Father. But He never said, “Come back tomorrow.” Whenever they came, He ministered to them. Sometimes the trick is knowing how best to minister.

I can sympathize with Jesus plight of not being able to get away. This past December, when my friend Michael (with whom I went to Africa in 2012) asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I told him, “Black skin and a Ugandan accent.” This is not because I don’t like my skin color, but more because, in these parts of Uganda, a mzungu (white foreigner) cannot go anywhere undetected. There just aren’t enough white people around.

I can’t go for a leisurely stroll through the town without hearing, “Mzungu! Hi Mzungu!” Usually, it’s the children, and they are waving excitedly, so I wave back happily and say hello and I’m on my way. When the adults do it, though, I never know how to respond. Sometimes I am unsure of their intentions, especially when they try to prolong the conversation beyond just saying hello, as with some groups of young adults who think it’s funny to say things to me and then laugh at me because I can’t understand, or some who men who seem like they just to flirt or get something from me.  No, thank you. But this whole phenomenon of shouting “Hi Mzungu!” really puzzles me. In the U.S., if a child shouted, “Hey, black person!” they would be slapped. I guess here it is culturally acceptable to yell, “Hi, white person!” but it makes me feel less like a person and more like just a color. It makes me feel like the one speaking does not care about who I am as a person, only about some idea that they have about me based on the color of my skin.

Once when I was walking home, I came across a boy who was about 7, who greeted me with “Hi mzungu.” So I kindly said hello. They he continued, “Give me some money.” I very simply said, “No, but I will give you my hand, and you can shake it.” I shook his hand, and then he turned and ran away.

Just last night, I was on the front porch with the girl I live with (a secondary school student) washing my clothes when several of the neighbor children walked by carrying jerry cans (for fetching water). Seeing me, one of them shouted, “Mzungu! I have ten jerry cans!” Um….okay? I could tell she wanted something, but I didn’t know what she was getting at. So I yelled back, “That’s very good. Are you going for water?” “Yes.” “Okay, great. Have fun!” I continued washing, then the younger boy came closer to the house and knelt down (a sign of respect), and said, “I want sweets.” Ah! So that’s what they want! I told him I had no sweets. Shortly after that, the first girl came and knelt down and asked for sugarcane. What?!  I held out my empty hands and told her I had no sugar cane. She pointed at the sugar cane which (apparently) grows in our yard. (Note to self: know what is growing at your house.) I said to her, “That is not my sugarcane. That belongs to the owner of this house. Come back when she is home and ask her.”

I wish I could speak the local language better, so I could have a full conversation with the children about why I wasn’t giving them what they asked for. If I give money or sweets to the first child, I have to give them the other five, and by doing so I only reinforce the idea that that’s what mzungus do, that’s what they are for. It is an act of love to say no, so that perhaps they may also learn to love more perfectly, to value the other person for who s/he is and not what s/he has, and so that they may develop their own personal initiative and potential rather than depending on the handouts of others.

The people came to Jesus wanting something from him – some healing or help. Sometimes they came just because they were “starstruck” or curious. I am sure that many of them did not really care about who Jesus was or about having a relationship with him. But He didn’t ask for better treatment. He didn’t demand that they first be baptized. Sometimes He said no to the specific request they had, but He didn’t give them a lecture about how selfish they were for having requested it. Instead, realizing that this mission was not His own, He just referred everything to the Father and said, “Your will be done.” If You want to heal, heal. If you want to feed, feed. If you want to do something else instead, do it. “Behold, I come to do Your Will.”

I am not yet holy like Jesus. I still often get annoyed at being called mzungu, at being thought of as the “hot item” or as a money or sweet dispenser. But this is not my mission; it is His. In everything, my aim is to do His Will and to make Him known, even as I wave happily to a child on the street or respond with kindness to a stranger who just thinks it’s cool to talk to a white girl. Maybe that happy wave or kind word will become for them an encounter with the Lord which will change their life. I pray that Jesus would help me to be humble enough to accept being the nameless mzungu so that His Name will be known.

The True Pearl of Africa

Moses Kasozi, Life teen youth minister

Two weeks ago as I was pondering Patrick’s question about the opportunities, the potentials, in Uganda, I took it to prayer. I asked the Lord what the greatest treasure of Uganda is. The answer He put on my heart? The youth.

I don’t think you can walk ten steps in this country without encountering at least 5 children. I don’t know what the actual statistics are, but I would imagine there are more people under the age of 25 than there are above.

On Sundays, I travel to Kitovu, Uganda, to help with the Lifeteen program there. (For those who may not know, Lifeteen is a Catholic youth ministry movement).This Lifeteen program was started by Moses Kasozi a few years ago, when he was still a teenager. It is the only Lifeteen program in Uganda and one of only a handful in all of Africa. At present, Moses works full-time, is finishing a degree program, and spends all of his spare time doing ministry. The man is on fire. I am always concerned that he isn’t getting enough rest, and he just replies that he doesn’t need to rest because this is his passion and this is what gives him life.

This past Sunday, I ate lunch at Moses’ home before heading over to the parish hall to set up for the life night. We spent half an hour talking about the youth of Uganda. One of the priests at the cathedral where Moses works recently expressed his desire that Moses would soon become the “director of youth ministry”. I was thinking to myself, “Isn’t he already?” But Moses shared that, here in Uganda, those aged 25-38 are typically classified as “youth” (what we would call “young adults”), and everyone under that age is often simply discounted.

Moses went on to share his own story with me. When he was finished, I was crying. I said to him, “I wish I could have recorded everything you just said.” I think it bears repeating. And though I won’t say it as well as he did, he gave me permission to share.

Moses is one of 6 children. Many years back, the family was renting a home in a village when his father decided to leave his mother for another woman. Of course, he could not support his large family plus his new home in town, and so Moses’ mother struggled to make ends meet, to provide food and pay school fees for the children. Moses described many nights of starvation which were very difficult for them as his mother sold matooke (bananas) to try to earn money. Eventually, she succeeded in buying a plot of land in town and building a small home. Then, not long after, she passed away, leaving the 6 children with no parent to care for them. Some relatives told them they should return to the village and work on the farm. At least there they would be fed. But they decided that, though it would be extremely difficult, they would stay in town where at least they had a home which belonged to them. Moses’ older sister was just completing nursing school, and said that she would become the mother to them. Moses went on to share the story of one of his own teens and how his involvement in the Lifeteen program took him off the streets and brought reconciliation in his family. He told me how many of the teens in his program have no parents and are the sole providers for their younger brothers and sisters. He said that when you have parents, people care about you, and they ask how you are doing. But when you have no parents, they forget you; you are on your own. And since he knows what it is like to be an orphan, he wants these children, these teens, to know that there is someone who cares about them and who is there for them, someone who recognizes that they are a treasure.

Many people look down on the young. They imagine them to be thieves or hoodlums, or perhaps just nuisances. Here in Uganda, there is little support for programs and movements like Lifeteen or EDGE (for middle-school age) that work with teens or younger. Parishes do not see the importance, so there is no hope of gaining paid employment for such ministry. At the cathedral, Moses is recognized for the incredible work that he does, but the parish will not even take up a collection to help fund the program. (The choir, yes. The youth ministry, no.) They rely entirely on the providence of God and the goodwill offerings of others.

Please pray that church leaders here in this country would begin to recognize more and more that the real treasure of Uganda is the youth. Please pray that their hearts would be open to desire and to implement programs like Lifeteen and EDGE, to provide a place where these young people can encounter Christ, build community, and find support in time of need. Because if we wait until they are 25-38 to evangelize and catechize them, it is already too late.

As well, if you are interested in helping to support Moses and his program in any other way, please contact me and let me know.

Uganda is known as the "Pearl of Africa." I think we should be more specific. Where is the true Pearl of Africa?

It is here:

Rose and Gloria

And here:

With the nursery class at school. Practicing writing names.

Don't Quit

A picture which hangs at the convent next door

This past Tuesday, Derek and I went to visit St. Anthony school, in a small village called Kasanje, where I will be spending most of my time. I was introduced to this school last time I visited Uganda, and it made a great impression on me. The small staff at the school is passionate and dedicated, although none of them are qualified to teach. The owners of this school, Paul and Mary, have faced a continuous struggle in their efforts to keep the school afloat, but as the children are unable to pay their full school fees, they have often been left with large debts. In addition, there are disputes about the land which make them fear losing the school property they have worked so hard to build and maintain. To many, the situation seems hopeless.

When we arrived, the children welcomed us with a short drill and some songs. I have heard the routine before, but they really captured my heart in a new way this time. My eyes welled up as I listened to them. I want them to succeed. I want to see those bright little faces at P-7 graduation, and not to see them among the 63% who never complete primary school. I want them to become physically, mentally, and spiritually mature young men and women, able to develop to their full potential.

But how can they get a quality education without qualified teachers? And how can the school secure qualified teachers (or help teachers gain qualifications) without money to pay them? And how can they get money if they children cannot pay their school fees? And how can they make the money to pay their school fees? What comes first: the chicken or the egg?

Tuesday's Gospel reading was the story of the woman with hemorrhages. We read, “There was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages for twelve years. She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors and had spent all she had. Yet she was not helped but only grew worse...” (Mk. 5:25-26) Believing that some cure is available and possible, she invests her whole self in searching for it, but instead finds only greater suffering and the added problem of debt. I am sure, to many, her situation seemed hopeless.

But she continues to have faith, and her great faith is rewarded when she meets the Lord. She touches his cloak, and in a single moment, everything changes.

Similarly, the Lord has inspired Paul and Mary with great faith to persevere despite many challenges, setbacks and sufferings. He knows the plans He has in mind for these children, plans to give them a future full of hope. As His heart was moved with compassion for the woman who came to him for healing, and as He desired to grant her heart’s request, I am sure He is so moved by the prayers and heart-cries of the students of St. Anthony.

This poem hangs on the wall of the woman I stay with. Seems very fitting:

DON’T QUIT

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will
When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill
When funds are low and debts are high
And you want to smile but you have to sigh
When care is pressing you down a bit
Rest if you must, but don’t you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns
As everyone of us sometimes learns
And may a person turns about
When they might have won had they stuck it out
Don’t give up, though the pace seems slow
You may succeed with another blow

Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor’s cup
And he learned too late when the night came down
How close he was to the golden crown

Success is failure turned inside out
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit
It’s when things seem worst that you musn’t quit.

Sharing our Gifts

At the home of our friends, Peter and John Bosco

Hello, Uganda! It is wonderful to walk on your red earth once again!

So, today marks one week that I have been here in the Pearl of Africa.

On the airplane from Amsterdam, I sat next to a very friendly woman named Juliet, a Ugandan who has lived in North Carolina for the past several years, who was flying in for a wedding. We had some great conversation about everything from culture to faith to family, and before I got off the plane, she had invited me to the wedding! Hahaha. This is what I love about Uganda: the people are so welcoming. I asked Juliet to help us navigate the airport (which is tiny compared to any international airport in the United States), because I had visions of airport personnel who would mob us and take our luggage claim tickets, like they do in Haiti, and insist upon finding our luggage against our will, then require a $200,000 tip. She laughed and assured me it wasn’t like that at all, but she would help us find our luggage, so no one took advantage of us. And even though it took us 45 minutes to make it through customs, she was still waiting for us on the other side. J

We have been told that people here are generally not rude to visitors. (Though I think I can safely make an exception for certain boda-boda (motorbike taxi) drivers and street vendors who are rude to everyone.) They said, “Some people may try to cheat you, but they will not be rude. If you need something, they will try to do whatever it takes to accommodate you.” In fact, I think sometimes they go out of their way.
In Entebbe, we spent two nights at a retreat center. After Mass on Sunday, one of the women of the community offered to drive us around for a tour of the city. She took us to the beach, to a few shrines, to her home, and even to the zoo! In addition, when we asked about some information – even just to make conversation – the brothers would go and look up the answer, if they didn’t know it. If we make mention of some food (again, mostly because we are just sharing some story), our hosts go and get some of it so we can have it to eat. Even at a small restaurant here in town, where we ordered two omelletes, a water and a donut, we were thanked profusely for coming to dine there.  

I think this is one of major gifts of collectivistic cultures. Yesterday, we were riding in the car with Patrick, one of the leaders here at Holy Trinity Community where we are staying, and he asked Derek, “So, what are the opportunities you see in Uganda? Some people come and comment that we have such good soil. We don’t notice because we see the soil every day. So, what are some things that you see that have potential for our country?” We spoke at length about various exports, and what could be exported that would be popular in other countries. But somehow, I don’t think the real potentials in Uganda – the real gifts it has – lie in its cash crops or its unique art or music. What needs to be harvested and shared somehow is its spirit of hospitality and its collectivistic mindset. This is something we need so desperately in so many places in the world. 

From two separate people, I have heard about the need to be job makers, not merely job seekers. Again, it is not simply about what I can gain, but how I can help others, how I can meet a larger community need, how I can be of service to others with the gifts God has given me. This is what it really means to be Church. 

Sr. Regina bringing Holy Communion to a sick member of the community

This past Thursday, we spent the whole day making home visits to the sick and to community members in the homes surrounding HTC, both with a local religious sister and then with members of HTC. At one home, we met a woman who had a growth on her back which made it difficult for her to walk. I felt moved to pray over her, and so the four of us present laid hands on her and prayed for healing. Then, at almost every subsequent home we visited, I was asked to lead the prayers for the families or sick patients. It seems the Lord is calling forth the gift of intercession in me on this trip, which is something that in many ways I have hidden or discounted in past years. I pray this time here in Uganda will help me to further discover, acknowledge and share my own gifts, as well as to see and help bring out the gifts of others.

“The body is a unit, though it is made of many parts; and though all its parts are many, they form one body. And so it is with Christ…”
- 1 Cor. 12: 12-31 -

“Do nothing out of selfishness or vainglory; rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves, each looking out not for his own interests but [also] everyone for those of others.”
- Phil 2:4 -