Archive for 'TIA'
Community
November 9th, 2008. Published under Life in Uganda, TIA, religion, thoughts and questions. 1 Comment.
I’m in the middle of the first funeral I can remember. I honestly cannot remember going to any funeral. I know I went to some as a little kid, but I have no vivid memories of any.
My best friend here and head teacher of Restore Academy, Peter, lost his “mzee” Friday night. He had throat cancer and went to Kampala for surgery on Wednesday, but died Friday night from complications to the surgery (this is no Seattle Grace). It is really sad, Peter lost his biological father two years ago, and now he’s lost his uncle, who stepped in to take his father’s place as head of the family. The funeral process here in Uganda is much different than back home. Saturday they transported the body back up to Gulu. We drove with Peter and by the time we got to Gulu people had already gathered at his house to help mourn. Saturday afternoon/night probably 50 or so friends and family had shown up at the family compound to pay their respects and help mourn. Many of them traveled from pretty far and are staying on the compound, wherever they can find a place to sleep. This will go on until at least Monday or Tuesday, with the actual burial on Monday. But this custom of paying respect and helping the family mourn is really cool. Virtually all family members drop what they are doing and come mourn until after the burial. Friends come and join them for as long as they are able, many staying the whole time. Its literally a 3-4 day event.
Wanting to respect this norm, I went and sat at the house for several hours last night. As tired as I was, it was an amazing experience. There were about 3 small bonfires with people sitting around talking into the wee hours of the night. There were a few fires for the women and girls and a fire for the old Acholi men. I sat with Peter and five Cornerstone OB’s (alumni) nearby and just enjoyed great conversation. In no particular order, it went from death to life to Jesus to current events to astronomy to Obama to morality to football. But as I sat there listening I just absorbed my surroundings and what was taking place.
I realized I was in the midst of community. Someone that each of us around the fire loved was hurting, and we came together to mourn with him and bring him back up. I take no personal credit for intentionaly doing this, I just knew it was a cultural norm so I wanted to go and sit at the house. But I realized how great that norm is. It reminds me of Luke 6:20-26 and what my buddy James has to say here: http://jamestravels.com/2008/02/blessings-and-woes-2.php. The Acholi culture says that when one of you is mourning, all of you mourn and together (after the burial) you celebrate and life goes on. I’m personally getting a first hand experience of how great that is.
As screwed up as some things are here in Uganda, the sense of family and community is something we all should be envious of.
Basketball Gulu style
October 25th, 2008. Published under Fun Stuff, Life in Uganda, TIA. No Comments.
Ever heard of a “professional” basketball game getting rained out? Neither have I. But that’s exactly what should have happened today. I’ve been playing with the Gulu Hawks, a team in the Federation of Uganda Basketball Association, or FUBA. Every game I’ve played thus far has been outdoors on sketchy courts. There are mini potholes on the courts, one rim might be six inches or a full foot shorter than the other, or the rim is slanted 30 degrees to the side. This actually describes our court in Gulu to the T.
So today we had a game. At the start of the game, everyone could tell a storm was brewing. Lightning was flashing in the distance, the wind was picking up and the sky was growing dark. Luckily it didn’t start raining until halftime, when it came down in buckets. There was an abandoned building not too far away from the courts, so players, refs and fans all ran inside to take cover and wait out the storm. It was actually fun, just joking around with guys from our team and the other team and getting to know some “fans.”
I should mention we do have a loyal support group of fans… that always show up drunk and harass the other team or referees. Its pretty sad and embarrassing, but they are hilarious when not trying to intimidate others. Today was no different, they actually brought a case of like 24 beers for the few of them. They were in a jovial mood today though and our halftime show involved them debating members of the opposing team about Jesus and drunkenness. It was hilarious and luckily everyone stayed friendly throughout.
Anyways, after about an hour of waiting in this abandoned house, the lightning and torrential downpour had passed, but it was still raining. People slowly came outside and stood in the rain, then made their way back to the court. The court literally had to be drained by digging miniature canals to divert water and once the small lakes were cleared the second half began. In the rain. The entire second half was played in increasingly harder rain on a very slippery court. At one point, standing there soaking wet, I literally pinched myself and remember thinking, “Is this a dream?! Am I really playing “professional” basketball, in Uganda, in the rain, on a court like this?”
I have to admit, I’m a pretty lucky guy.
Rwanda/Burundi
September 11th, 2008. Published under Fun Stuff, New Countries, TIA. No Comments.
I just got back from a week in Rwanda/Burundi visiting friends and meeting new ones. I went with my buddy Kyle who is out visiting and four other friends from here. We started the trip off with a bang… karaoke with like 15 friends followed by a 3 am bus ride. Below or some notes I took along the way:
Sept 6th: Drove from Kigali, Rwanda to Bujumbura, Burundi today. Craziest drive of my life. We barely got seats on the bus, the worst ones in the very back. The road was great compared to Uganda in terms of potholes… but it was windy and very hilly. We were screaming around blind, hairpin turns, the bus rocking left to right at each turn and the wheels screeching. I honestly thought we were going to tip over and fall the hundreds of feet down the side of the mountain to our death. It was by far the scariest bus ride I’ve ever taken. And thats saying alot, because most people say the Gulu-Kampala is the worst. Oh, and we blew a tire on the way up the mountain… then blew the spare on the way down. Blowing the spare we didn’t even flinch. Just kept on driving, because there was no other spare. It was keep driving or sit and wait, and our driver wanted to be finished. So we kept right on going, kareeming down the mountain like we had nothing to lose. Now we’re in Buj. This place is weird, like a ghost town. Tonight there were hardly anyone on the streets, even in the late afternoon when we got here. It almost has the feel of an old western movie, like when everyone closes up shop and leaves town when the bad guys show up. A little eery.
Sept 8th: Left Buj. Wasn’t as bad as we first thought. Hung out and relaxed at a beach on Lake Tanganyika. Saw some amazing tribal dancers/drummers at the beach. Burundi is definitely not a tourist destination. Eric thought we were possibly the only foreign people in the country not there for work. The country has really only been safe for about 2 months. They’ve had a civil war for the last 15 years or so, stemming from the Rwanda genocide. So what happened in Rwanda happened on a much smaller scale here… but went on for over a decade, killing 2-3 times more people. Thats why it feels like a ghost town/country… it practically is. On the bus back up to Kigali to hang out. Eric stayed behind to get work done on a potential youth corp home here. This bus driver goes slow, we’re loving him. Not too scared of death today.
September 10th: Left Kigali, back on a bus for Kampala. Was able to relax and spend time in Kigali with friends, just talking and hanging out. Then back on the bus to Kampala @ 6am. Pretty horrible drive. Even worse for Kyle, who’s having stomach trouble. We just calculated that after Friday, when we drive back up to Gulu, we’ll have gone on 6 bus rides in 10 days, a total of 48 hours on a bus… not fun. The bus rides zap any and all life out of you. Side note, neither Kyle or I fit in the seats, so we both sit sideways at like a 45 degree angle… for 10 hours. It does wonders for your back, try it sometime.
Overall, the trip definitely wasn’t a relaxing vacation… but it was fun seeing friends and hanging out in two incredibly beautiful countries.
Home visits
September 3rd, 2008. Published under Life in Uganda, TIA, thoughts and questions. No Comments.
Monday I went with my buddy Kyle, who got here a week ago, to take one of our youth corps girl’s home. School isn’t in session right now and the kids go home for as long as they can. One of the boys wanted to accompany us, so while we waited for him I sat and talked with this particular girl. Usually I’m with a group of the kids and never ask them personal questions, but seeing as we were about to go to her home I asked her about her family and her past. Her mom died of AIDS two years ago and her dad lives in the village working as a farmer. He is really poor so for at least the past 10 years (she’s 14) she has lived with one of her aunts or uncles near town, so she could go to school. She had a fairly big scar on her arm and after asking about it she got a little quiet. She said it came from a stick. After further probing she told us the stick happened to be in the hands of her uncle while he beat her. Then she showed us a scar on her other arm and another just below her collarbone, all from her uncle. I didn’t really know how to respond. I love this girl to death and I just couldn’t comprehend why or how someone could beat a little kid to this end. I asked a little more about this uncle and the others she had lived with. I had to make sure we weren’t going to this particular uncle’s house because honestly I did not want to meet him and definitely didn’t want to leave her back in his care. Luckily she now lives with her grandma when not at the y.c. home.
After a while we found the boy who wanted to go and the four of us hopped on bodas and took off for her home. We had a great time visiting with her aunt who was there but soon after arriving we went walking to find another one of the y.c. kids who lived nearby. After a good hour of walking (we asked how far it was and initially we were told no more than 1 km. It was a good 3 miles or so, but it was beautiful and through small villages by way of footpaths.), we found another one of the girls’ sister. She told us where to find this other girl… in a rock quarry. I cannot accurately describe the scene at the quarry… but it felt a little like the diamond mining in the movie Blood Diamond, sans the guards with guns. There were men, women and children everywhere “beating the rock” as the call it. The men had huge sledgehammers and chisels, breaking big chunks off and hauling them to their wives and children to beat into smaller rocks. Our girl saw us from afar and came running. She joyfully showed us around and introduced us to her step-mom and others. She took us to her home nearby and bought us water and sodas while we talked with her father. It was a bit disheartening though. Her father, obviously drunk (at 3 pm), talked us into the ground. He capped off our time there by somewhat making fun of Kyle. There were about 10 of us sitting in the hut, 4 of them being really little kids. Kyle was playing with them most of the time while the dad, the boy and I “talked”, more like he talked in circles and we nodded. But when I told him we needed to go he said no and, turning to Kyle basically said, “Why haven’t you talked. You come into my home, I need to get to know you.” Then proceeded to tell us why Kyle needed to get him a passport so he could come to the US and on and on. I sat there laughing as Kyle looked around for help not knowing what to say. It was pretty funny…
But as I look back on this day I’m left with a few lingering thoughts. One is the hospitality that we were shown. At both girls homes they went and bought sodas for us. That doesn’t sound like much, but these families are poor. It’s a big deal to buy sodas for three people, but it wasn’t an option. We were guests and they had to give us something, even with us trying our best to refuse the drinks. It was probably the equivalent of an average US citizen giving an unexpected visitor a $30-$40 gift upon arrival in their home.
The second thing I’m left with is how horrible these kids’ backgrounds really are. Both of these girls come from alcoholic, abusive families and both of their moms died of AIDS. Both had to, for up to five years, walk into town each night and sleep with thousands of other kids in shelters and then walk back home each morning, thankful that they weren’t abducted the night before. My mind cannot grasp this. I cannot imagine being 13 or 14 again and already have experienced all that they have. To not have a loving mother or father, to work in a rock quarry, or to flee home each night in search of a safe place to sleep. I can’t even imagine what I would be like now, at 23, if this had been a part of my recent past. It is amazing how strong they are and how joyful and happy they can be. I am constantly in awe of them and daily learn more from them than I ever imagined.
Arusha Jesus Reunion
July 24th, 2008. Published under Fun Stuff, New Countries, TIA, religion, thoughts and questions. 1 Comment.
I just got back from a conference in Tanzania called the Jesus Reunion. It was a conference put on partly by Cornerstone here in Uganda and the guys behind the national prayer breakfast movement. In short, the conference was amazing, I’d never been to anything like it. People from all sorts of backgrounds and faiths were there to focus on what unites us, Jesus. The theme was to think, talk, act and love like Jesus. Every session, speaker and small group surrounded this focus on Jesus. I can’t really put to words the thoughts and feelings I had throughout the week, but it was life changing. Everyone there was considered to be a part of this “family of friends” and treated everyone like family, thus the reason for it being called a reunion.
The godly advice and leadership that is being exemplified by so many around the world was mind-boggling. To steal from one of the speakers, I’ve seen first hand the liberating power of “doing unto others what we would want others to do unto us.”
A few things I wrote down that I thought were noteworthy:
- Regarding Matthew 6:5-13, the passage where Jesus teaches us how to pray: He says we are to pray “our Father” and not my father. We are a family and Jesus was teaching us to behave and act like one. “Ubuntu” which means, “I am because we are.”
- About the “Jesus Movement” of bringing the focus back to Jesus and his life instead of promoting “Christianity” or certain denominations: A few of the main points were that: It’s a focus on Jesus as the common ground, It’s a revolution of love that works across all that is dividing humanity, It’s a call for personal transformation, Its about faith for a better world, A focus on the essentials: love God & love your neighbor as yourself, And reach out to leaders, but only have one Leader that you give your life to.
- The last point that Doug Coe, the main guy said to the group was pretty cool. He said the two things: First, that on his tombstone he would hope people would say, “Here loves Doug Coe, a man who loved Jesus with his whole heart.” The second point was to challenge us all “Don’t be led by men. Follow only Jesus with your whole heart and let the Holy Spirit guide you.”
Each afternoon there were breakout sessions and the one I went to each day was on leadership academies. The guys from Cornerstone led it and talked about the schools they have and about our school. I never really saw how revolutionary these schools are until meeting people from all over Africa who desire to have something like it in their country. Its unheard of here to have a school founded on love and grace, a place where students aren’t afraid to approach their teachers. It gave me a new and fresh vigor to continue helping Restore Academy grow and become just what I described.
Also, the place we stayed at was really nice with a pool, soccer field, tennis court, basketball court and a 9-hole golf course! Everything was run down but I got a chance to play golf one day, which was fun. I can now say I’ve golfed under the shadow of Mount Kilimanjaro. One thing that reminded us we were in Africa though: 1. We rented clubs and got one ball each. Couldn’t lose it or we’re done golfing. 2. The other guys golfing that day were just ahead of me and my friend Eric. On one hole they seemed to be searching for their ball forever in this thirty-foot diameter grass pile. We waited and caught up to them on the green and come to find out… they were searching for a cobra! One of the guys was standing by his ball and out of the corner of his eye sees a cobra raise up with its glands/neck whatever it’s called all puffed out. Needless to say he sprinted away as fast as possible and almost had a heart attack. The local guy who caddied wanted to explore though and went back looking for it. From that point on it was a little nerve racking hitting the ball and praying it goes straight so I didn’t have to search for it!
the po-pos
April 18th, 2008. Published under Life in Uganda, TIA, thoughts and questions. No Comments.
Three friends of mine were recently arrested for no reason. These guys were waiting in front of a bank for myself and some friends to take them out to lunch and were rounded up with a few others and taken to jail, just like that. Riots had broken out in a different part of downtown (taxis were striking because police had actually cracked down on illegal and wreckless driving. The police do their jobs and people get mad) and the police were literally going around arresting anyone and everyone, over 200 people in a matter of a few hours. What’s worse is that police brutality practically seems to be encouraged here. We went to the police station trying to plead their innocence and saw firsthand people being dragged in, slapped, kicked and hit with clubs. One guy was even being taken away mid seizure on a stretcher.
At one point we were standing just inside the station, trying to figure out which friend in the government could help us out (none) when one of the mentors, Mark, was pushed by. He started yelling in Luganda to Collins, one of the mentors not arrested who was with us. He was telling Collins who to talk to in the police station to help them out. The police pushing him were yelling at him to shut up but he wouldn’t. Mark has a little temper as well so he wasn’t exactly cooperating with these policemen who were pushing, slapping and yelling at him. So he yelled back. Right in front of us one guy slapped him across the face at which point Mark fell to the ground and a few of the police started kicking him. Mark yelled even more and they roughed him up even more. I had a complete feeling of helplessness and rage at the same time, but what could I do? Several police sort of barricaded us and shooed us away. It was horrible.
The worst part of the whole thing is that the Ugandan guys practically shrugged this off. Its not horrible that they weren’t as traumatized as us, but horrible that they’ve been through this time and time again to be immunized to this tragedy. Horrible that this is the reality of life for them. Walking up to the police station, we weren’t afraid of being beaten or yelled at walking in. Collins was. He waited outside, at a considerable distance, for us to come before even attempting to go in.
Don’t get me wrong, they were frustrated and disappointed, but this was just a part of what they go through. They are all former street kids so they had been arrested several times, spending up to a week in jail for no particular reason. And Mark has a temper for good reason. He’d been abused and has scars all over his body from various gunshots and life in the slums. What we thought was the worst thing possible is business as usual for them. Why and how this happens the world over is a mystery to me. Needless to say Friday was a rough day but eye opening and trying. I got a snippet of what they’ve gone through for the 20 something years they’ve been alive.
How many times do I take for granted my life, the hand I’ve been dealt?
If guys who have every right in the world to neglect others and “get theirs” are out here on the frontlines caring for kids who have nothing, how much more should we, the privileged, be giving back of all that we have?
How much more can I do?
How much more can you do?
Slumber party
April 11th, 2008. Published under Life in Uganda, TIA. No Comments.
Tuesday night some friends and I spent a night with street kids in one of Kampala’s slums. One of my friends works with an orphanage that works with the kids and whose mentors (former street kids) come from the area. So we had about 5 young Ugandan guys (who are absolute studs, such cool guys) showing us around and making sure nothing happened to us. But it was quite an experience. I can’t really accurately describe the slums though, just utter poverty.
We toured around the slum with the guys and met a few families and saw the areas where the guys help out. They showed us the bathroom, a small river that ran through the middle of the slum. We ended up at one spot where a fire was started and hundreds of curious eyes quickly surrounded us. We spent several hours just sitting on a bench of sorts and playing/talking to the kids and people who walked by and waited for the kids’ dinner to be served. The mentors provided the dinner, porridge and bread. It was pure mayhem when it was ready, the short attempt to form a line was quickly abandoned and the hundred or so kids just crowded around the mentors as they tried to serve the food.
The kids were great but pretty difficult to be around. I mean difficult in million different ways. Difficult because there were so many of them and so few of us so it was claustrophobic. Difficult because they were drugged up and high, which made it increasingly more difficult because it broke our hearts. Almost all of them are addicted to sniffing petrol or some sort of fuel. It acts as a drug to get high off of, but it also curbs hunger. These kids know true hunger and you can’t really blame them for becoming addicted to this drug. They each had an empty water bottle or rag they used to soak the fuel in and would constantly sniff it. It was pretty sad. They would fight (we saw about 15 miniature fights during the night) or cry uncontrollably if someone took away their bottle. This wasn’t my first time interacting with these kids so I somewhat knew what to expect, but it was still heartbreaking.
Besides the kids we also had to deal with the dozens and dozens of drunken guys, and kids for that matter, who walked by throughout the night and quite a few guys tried to suit Kristen, the only girl in our group, by standing 5 feet away and do nothing but stare. We were cracking up at this and even got out a video camera and slyly taped one guy’s intense stares. We felt somewhat safe though, at least one of the mentors literally stood guard by us the entire night, they were very protective. By 11 or so many kids started getting out cardboard to sleep on and we did likewise. Kids slept anywhere they could in this particular section, on trash piles, in a little ditch and on top of each other when the space ran out. There were probably 100 kids in the small area where we were. We put down a few pieces of cardboard over the dirt and rocks and tried our best to sleep too (we asked what happened when it rained and were told its every man for himself to find shelter). It was pretty difficult, we had to laugh about it a little, going to sleep with a crowd of at least twenty people around just watching us, wondering what we were doing. But the mentors made sure no one bothered us too much. We did, however, get to sleep to the sounds of Bob Marley on repeat. We listened to the same 4 songs about 10 times that night.
At like 3:30 am the guys woke us up and took us to see other areas. We walked several miles around downtown Kampala, seeing all the different areas where kids sought shelter at night. It was definitely an eye opening experience. The kids are never truly safe, police (horrible story about police brutality to come soon, which we experienced first hand today), night guards and drunks are always a threat to beat the kids or steal from them.
I’m incredibly glad I joined my friends in doing this. The kids we interacted with loved having us spend time with them and learn a little more about their lives. White people are virtually never seen in this slum, much less ever joined them for a slumber party. We didn’t go in with the mindset that we were going to help change these kids or do some great work. We went just to experience a night in their lives. International aid is rarely going to fully heal or completely help its beneficiaries. We can provide $ to create a home or something for the kids, but it takes locals, like the mentors, to truly help and change these kids. I have a whole new respect for these 5 guys and the work they are doing. My prayer is that if/when I go home I can find people in my own country that I can come alongside and struggle with, like these guys are doing, and hopefully together create change.
Life in general
November 21st, 2007. Published under Life in Uganda, TIA. No Comments.
A picture of snow in Tahoe popped up on my computer screen just now and I really started to miss home. There is something about Christmas time and the snow that just makes your heart warm. But God has me somewhere other than home this Christmas. I am actually in the process of planning a Christmas trip with two friends. Our top two choices are Zanzibar or the Middle East, like Egypt and Israel or Israel and Jordan. We’ve been looking for cheap flights and researching the areas with the little internet access we have, but I’m pumped. Zanzibar is absolutely gorgeous and is a beach lover’s heaven. But Israel is up there in one of my dream destinations… So we’ll see what happens. I’m excited though, traveling and seeing something new will be fun.
CHOGM starts this week here in Kampala. CHOGM is the commonwealth heads of government meeting. Basically the heads of all the governments in the commonwealth are coming here, including the queen of England and the royal family. Ever since I’ve been here Kampala has been getting a major facelift. Some roads actually have lines painted on them and are paved without potholes. Buildings and hotels have been completely remodeled. The construction is definitely not done, but a ton has been done. The unfortunate thing is that the city has been beautified and remodeled, but only the areas where CHOGM will be held or where the delegates will stay. The roads that the queen plans to travel on have been completely smoothed and look normal actually. Its sad because this thing is kind of an evaluation of Uganda, and on the surface it will look very developed and smooth. But that’s definitely not the case. Most people’s fear here is that once CHOGM is over, all the construction will stop and everything will deteriorate again. Lets hope not.
Most of the major roads are going to be closed and Thursday and Friday are national holidays due to CHOGM. Basically no one wants to be in Kampala during this, and here I am. I had to move our office into a friend’s garage by today, when our lease runs up here in Kampala. We still don’t have a for sure place in Gulu, so I’m storing everything here for a week or two until we move it all up to Gulu. Kind of a bummer. I hate moving and trying to hound and get a hold of officials while trying to move just makes it more fun. But oh well, Lord teach me something through this.
Today is Thanksgiving here and because of CHOGM it is also a holiday. I’m moved out of our office here in Kampala and staying with a family that lives just down the street. They are actually gone for the week so it is me, the guards and the cook. The Kreutters, the founders of Cornerstone, are having a big Turkey dinner today so there are like 10 of us Americans going over there for that. Tim and Kathy Kreutter are like the replacement parents for all the young Americans they know in Uganda. There is a catch though to our dinner, we have to cook. They provide most of the food and we cook most of the food. So it should be interesting.. I’m pretty sure the turkey is not in our hands but we’ll see. I’m just thankful God has given me His family to spend the holiday with.
On a completely different note, I am in love with the kids at the youth corps home. The last week or two have been amazing. I’m actually sad to be spending so much time in Kampala, Gulu feels like home now and I miss it and the kids. Whenever I get home they’ve got smiles on their faces and come up to greet John and me. I’ve had little down time because whenever I’m at the home I’ve hung out with the kids or the other guys who live there. I’m slowly learning Acholi too and can get by in a casual conversation if spoken to slowly. Unfortunately no one speaks slowly except when they are teaching me. Haha, give me a few more months and I’ll be ok to get by. Each night after dinner they have fellowship, which is singing, praying and a lesson from one of the aunties or uncles. I participated one night last week and just sat there and listened. I couldn’t understand most of the songs, due to their strong accents or because of it being sung in Acholi, but it was awesome to hear them praising God together. Then after singing for a while they break out into prayer, like passionate prayer. Everyone prays at the same time and its loud murmur of voices praying to God, for a good 5 minutes. These are 11-17 year olds and I envy their passion for the Lord. God has truly blessed me though and answered my prayers. My fear in moving to Gulu was that I would not have a solid community of friends but that is definitely not the case. God’s given me a perfect balance between Americans and Ugandans. I have American friends with IC that I eat with and can talk through things my Ugandan friends wouldn’t really understand and then I’ve got the kids and all the uncles and aunties at the YC house. I’m learning from both equally.
At the home it’s been a little sad too… These kids have been through so much and most of them aren’t shy around me anymore, but I can see in all of their eyes at times the weight of their pain or depression. Most of the time they are full of smiles, but almost every day I’ll see one of them sitting by themselves or being just gloomy. Trying to cheer them up usually doesn’t work and I know their problem probably isn’t that someone called them a bad name. Many of these kids still have one or both of their parents, but they either weren’t being properly taken care of or their parents couldn’t provide. So many of them miss their families. I know at least one of the girls is a total orphan; her mom died a few days before I got here in September. Two of the boys are former child soldiers. I only know one of their backgrounds and its absolutely horrible. The brief rundown is that at the age of 9 the LRA attacked his school abducted him. His dad was also abducted that day. His dad carried him while they were marching but he got tired and had to put him down. When his dad was too tired the LRA forced him to kill his father. Right there on the spot, kill or be killed. So from the age of 9 till about 14 he was a soldier and he either escaped or was rescued in 2005, I’m not sure which. He went through a child soldier rehab center here in Gulu and then his only living relative willing to take him in was his grandpa. I’m not sure what happened from there but he has ended up at the Y.C. home. My heart just goes out to him and I just praise God that he’s out of those circumstances and pray that he will be fully healed and know the love and joy that God has for him. If you think of it pray for all the kids here at Youth Corps.
Running in Circles
November 10th, 2007. Published under Life in Uganda, TIA. 1 Comment.
The main hindrance for the past year almost has been that there is no land board in the district that our land is in. The board was created and trained near the end of September and ever since then we have met many promises followed by several excuses as to why nothing happened with the promises. Its almost humorous how many times I’ve heard the excuse that the man behind the man who needs to sign a document is traveling today, so come back tomorrow. So tomorrow comes and there we are only to be told the same thing and to come back the next day. Then, in the end, after three days of showing up in a guy’s office, he claims he can’t help us anyway until we get some other document from a different office. We’ve also gone around the troublesome people and had their bosses or very powerful people politically tell them to help us, only to have them chew us out for having their bosses tell them to do their jobs! I can’t even begin to describe how frustrating this has been, but I constantly have to keep in mind that God is in control of this whole thing, which is much easier said than done.
So now, today actually, a new land committee is supposed to be appointed and we are to go to them and have them look at our land and sign off on it. The “legal” process for this is that they have to give a two weeks notice to the community that they are going to come on a certain day and anyone with claims to the land must show up. We’ve already done this and had a document signed by 37 members of the community verifying the land is actually owned by the people we are trying to lease it from. But, the guys who signed our document weren’t “officially” the land committee yet so we have to do it again. So now we have to get the land committee to sign off on the land and then we go back to the land board to have them sign and we take the forms to Kampala to get the title. Sounds easy enough right?!
I’m also trying to get to know the kids I interact with better. Because I’ve been traveling so much, a few days in Gulu then a few days in Kampala, I haven’t spent as much time as I would like with the students and with the kids at the Youth Corps homes. The last two weeks I have tried to talk with them more and more though and it has been such a blessing. The girls at the home are so joyful and slowly opening up and talking more with me. For my birthday my mom gave me $100 for the purpose of buying something for someone else, probably the coolest idea I’ve heard of. I decided to buy all the girls at the home shoes, since probably 90% of them don’t have them. They walk around in flip-flops or barefoot all the time. It really is more blessed to give rather than receive. Last night I sat with them and tried to learn Lwo, the Acholi language. It was cool. Spending time with them has been so fun.
It’s awesome how cheap some things are. $99 bought 17 pairs of shoes! I have figured out how to shop in the market now too. John the driver will go in to wherever I need something and negotiate prices, then he comes back to me and tells me the price and I go in and pick out the goods. Some people don’t like it and get mad because they would have given us the mzungu price, which would be at least 50% higher. He’s actually out looking for a dresser for me now.
We’re also planning for next year’s school year. The Ugandan system ends in early December and begins in early February. Restore started in the middle of the year this year and we did not charge school fees. So next year we are going to charge school fees (but get sponsors because these kids live in IDP camps and don’t have any money). We’re also moving sites, just next to our current site but its much bigger and we can accept more kids for next year. It’s been a cool process. Mzee Paul has been a huge help in the planning process and he is working on getting a prayer team together to meet routinely and pray for the school. He is the wisest, godliest old man. He oversees all of the Cornerstone schools, I think there are 5, and he wants to include Restore and Peter in all of his meetings, retreats etc. So that’s really cool, Cornerstone is what we are modeling our school after and there is no one better than him to help us shape the school.
Mzee actually went to San Diego last spring with Invisible Children (He oversees all the Cornerstone schools, oversees all the IC mentors and now helps oversee Restore Academy). One of my friends asked him what his impressions of America were. He definitely commended the infrastructure and how good the roads are, shopping, buildings etc. Our technology is definitely advanced. He said something though that really struck us. He said everyone he saw seemed to be about their own business. Everyone walked around worrying about their own troubles and seemed too busy to talk to anyone, walking in a hurry. A striking difference from here. Some people are in a hurry but no one is ever too busy to talk and everyone usually does stop to talk. If I’ve learned anything from my time in Africa its how important relationships and conversations really are.
Rwanda
October 10th, 2007. Published under New Countries, TIA, religion, thoughts and questions. 1 Comment.
I went to Rwanda this last weekend with Ilea, Julia, Karis and Kristen and it was unforgettable. We stayed in Kigali, the capital. We rented a three bedroom two bath house at a hotel so I got my own room and bathroom! Haha. Kigali is probably the cleanest and safest capital city worldwide. No joke, maybe its because I’m used to Kampala which is up there for dirtiest and least safe capitals in the world, but Kigali was immaculate. There were traffic police all over, standing at intersections and random places along the roads, which led to safer taxis and bodas. Bodas wore helmets and passengers had to too, and there seemed like there was a speed limit as well. (In contrast to Kampala where bodas go as fast as they can until they are cut off or crash, don’t wear helmets and just terrify everyone. Some people say that Alaskan King Crab fishermen have the world’s most dangerous job but I’m here to tell you the world’s most dangerous job goes to the Kampala boda-boda drivers) It was really quiet too. It felt almost like we were in the suburbs. We left at 3 am Saturday morning on a 9-hour bus ride. I had slept pretty much all day Friday so I was wide-awake until a Tylenol pm shut me down. I was still pretty sick (Karis had to sit next to me and I was an unwanted heater due to my fever and sweating) but we were able to pick our seats ahead of time so we sat at the very front with legroom. After about 2 hours at the border (we had to go through immigration for Uganda and Rwanda) in which they search all the bags for plastic bags (Rwanda has outlawed plastic bags, no joke. Not like ziplocks but ones you get at the grocery store) we finally got to Kigali around noon. We got a special hire taxi to our hotel, had lunch at the hotel (which took an hour, Rwanda is notorious for very slow service) then went to the main genocide museum.
Rwanda is popular for the 1994 genocide of the Tutsi tribe by the Hutu tribe. I’ll be honest my only prior knowledge of all this was from the movie Hotel Rwanda, which most people here claim did a decent job painting the picture of what happened. I was really anxious to learn a bit more for myself and see what really happened apart from the Hollywood version that I knew. The museum was incredible. I’m not saying it was fun and we enjoyed ourselves, it was really rough and hurt to see some of the stuff, but amazing. It was really informative and told the story of the genocide in full detail. The building went in a circle, so it started with the colonization by the Germans and went through till today. Something I didn’t know was that the Hutu and Tutsi as a whole held a bitterness toward each other for many years. When the Germans and then Belgians were in power, they separated the Hutu and Tutsi by forcing them to register as one or the other. When it couldn’t be decided by looks what tribe you were, you were given a tribe based on how many cows you had. 10 or more cows and you were Tutsi, less than 10 and you were Hutu. The Tutsi were thought to be smarter and more skilled so they were given all the jobs and political power, but the Tutsi were like 10% of the population. The Hutus naturally grew very resentful towards the Tutsi. So when Rwanda gained independence in like the early 60’s, I don’t remember when, the more populous Hutu took power and started trying to wipe out the Tutsi. Since they were 10% of the population, they were only allowed 10% of any paying jobs, 10% of the student population, etc. So many Tutsi fled the country to Uganda, Congo, Burundi, and Tanzania. Then president Habyarimana took power in like the 70’s (held it till his death in 1994) and persecuted the Tutsi even more, so even more fled then. By 1990 one of those that had fled had started a Tutsi rebellious force (he was actually one of the main generals in the Ugandan Pres. Musevini’s rebellion, which took him to power. So the Rwandan rebellion was helped a little by Uganda) and started fighting back. I can’t remember his name but he is the current president. Anyway, they started a war of sorts to regain power for the Tutsi. By 1994, the Hutus had a normal government with a president, who was actually in peace talks with the Tutsi rebels. But, they had some sort of militia aside from the government soldiers called Interahamwe that were being trained and funded by the French in guerilla warfare(officially France denies any ties to this but the leaders of the genocide admit to their involvement. Most Rwandans I’ve met strongly dislike the French. Just last year Rwanda kicked out the French embassy and most French people left with it). The leaders of this group had a hate radio station (just like what was shown in Hotel Rwanda) and promoted Hutu dominance and predicted something major to happen on April 6th. On April 6th the president was in a plane coming back to Kigali when his plane was shot down and everyone aboard died. Within hours there was roadblocks set up all over the city and the Interahamwe had lists of Tutsi they went around killing. 10 Belgian soldiers were also immediately killed, which the Hutu hoped would drive out all the Belgian peacekeepers, which it did. The radio called all Hutus to arms to kill the Tutsi “cockroaches” and blamed the president’s death on Tutsis. Within days normal citizens started killing their neighbors who were Tutsi and anyone sympathetic towards or married to a Tutsi. No one was spared, men and women, young and old. Most people didn’t have guns so they were beat to death by machetes and clubs. The museum had several video stories of survivors who saw their parents and family members killed by friends. One woman told of her best friend’s dad coming to their house and slaughtering her family while she hid under a bed. It was just horrible. I can’t describe some of the gruesome pictures and videos that were shown, but know that this was one of the worst atrocities our world has ever experienced. 1 million people were killed in 100 days, a rate of 10,000 people a day. Rwanda isn’t even the size of New Jersey, its more like Rhode Island and a million people were killed in a few short months. They weren’t killed and then buried; they were killed and left to rot, to have their flesh eaten by dogs. The Hutus had to eventually kill all the dogs because there were so many sick dogs due to their eating of human flesh. It was horrible.
Despite all the evil, there were a few heroes who saved hundreds of people. There was a story about an old witchdoctor who hid close to 100 people on her land and told anyone who came to kill them that if they stepped foot on her land the evil spirits would kill them. Kind of strange how evil can be used for good. The story of the manager of that hotel in Hotel Rwanda is also true, we walked by the hotel one night. There was one lone American who didn’t flee the country and stayed alive. He was in a few videos at the museum and wasn’t touched by the Hutus (He had a really interesting comment. He said at the beginning he could reason with some of the Hutus and talk with some at the roadblocks etc. But he said near the end of the conflict they ceased to be people and he said looking at them reminded him of pure evil. He said it was like looking into the eyes of a demon). They respected the mzungus and left most of them untouched. Most of them, not all. Quite a few fathers and nuns were killed. There were several others, a few brave UN soldiers who broke orders and helped save several hundred people (they were ordered to in no way get involved or save people). There were two UN soldiers, without guns, who stood in front of a church filled with women and children and told the Hutus they weren’t allowed in, the Hutus just turned and walked away. Two men without any means to defend themselves just stood boldly and told them no! Hotel Rwanda did a good job about the UN commander too. He did all he could to get more troops and to be able to fight back until the UN completely pulled everyone out and he was forced to leave.
It was really sad, PBS did a long (over 2 hours) documentary on the whole conflict and it played in one of the rooms. I honestly was almost ashamed to be an American or from any western country for that matter. The UN commander said several times that with just 5,000 soldiers they could stop the genocide. There were many interviews with the UN secretary and the guy in charge for the U.S., both during and after. The U.S. guy said we don’t get involved unless we have something at stake and the UN lady kept saying they didn’t see the need or benefit of bringing more soldiers. So they end up taking them all away?! The guy on the ground says give me more soldiers and this thing will end. Instead they take all UN soldiers out. They literally showed the UN soldiers leaving on trucks while people with machetes wait for them to leave so they can go slaughter the people the UN was protecting at the hotel. On the interviews from after the genocide the UN lady cried several times because she knew she had the power to stop it. She made the excuse that they just didn’t know the gross amount of killing that went on, but it was a blatant lie because earlier on the video it shows the UN commander speaking on TV early on in the massacres that people were dying at a rate of 10,000 a day. It was really sad to watch.
We also went to a church outside of Kigali that is now a memorial for the victims. At this particular church, 10,000 people were killed in a few hours. Hours. It was the hardest thing to walk through; they left the church pretty much as they found it, except they removed the dead bodies. There was normal sized room filled to the brim with the clothes and belongings of the people killed there. Literally filled, you could open the door but couldn’t take a step inside because the entire room was one big pile of clothes and belongings. The pews were covered with bloodstains and one wall was covered with blood because it was used to throw children against to kill them. The ceiling was still stained with brain matter and had bullet holes through it. Our taxi driver spoke English so he walked around with me and the lady in charge spoke to him in French and he interpreted. Out back there were two tombs. One had 40 coffins in it of people who were thrown into latrines and then stoned to death. The lady was with me when I went in there so I knew what to expect. The next tomb I walked down into on my own because she was talking to someone. It had shelves to the ceiling lining both walls, filled with skulls and bones of the people who had died, thousands. I wasn’t expecting it at all and I almost threw up. It was one of the saddest moments of my life. Standing there looking at skulls of people killed for no reason, expect race. It just didn’t make sense. This genocide happened overnight, almost like God left for a few months and let the devil run free. It was pretty emotional for all of us.
One night we stayed up really late talking through everything we experienced, it was a really good discussion. We all hoped that we would have stayed to help but the reality is we most likely would have gotten on a bus and gone home. To look at it another way, if I were deathly sick and a local here was sick and there was enough medicine for only one of us and I had the money to pay for the medicine and the other didn’t, I would most likely buy it for myself. I wish I could say I would buy it for another but the reality is most of us wouldn’t. And I believe that is wrong. Jesus said we must put others before ourselves. We also discussed a lot about the poor and what we are called to do about them. We encounter people begging everyday and most of the time we walk right by trying not to make eye contact, because it makes us feel bad. As we were discussing it, we all felt convicted. There is tons of aid here in Africa and programs to help, but that doesn’t mean I should walk by when someone is begging. I can at least stop and talk, ask their name, maybe give them gum or whatever I have on hand. Ya, God has blessed us for hard work we’ve done or for being faithful to him but in reality our possessions are not ours, they are His. Jesus’ words are straightforward and so many times as Christians we try and say, “Now what did Jesus really mean when he said, if one of you has two coats he should take one and give it to him who has none or sell all your possessions and give to the poor then follow me?” He said what he said; there is no hidden meaning. We are all guilty of disobeying Him. The first followers of Christ left their families, homes, jobs, everything to be homeless and to serve and give to the poor. I definitely see the need for rich people though. Paul and the apostles would have been screwed if there weren’t wealthy people in each city to take them into their home and provide while they travelled. But we don’t use our resources like that. I don’t think the Christian church is doing what Jesus called them to. I don’t think the American version of Christianity is the bride that Christ would want to come back to. And it probably never will be. But the Church starts inside of each one of us. Yes, the Church as a whole isn’t what it should be but neither are we. I’ve internally criticized modern Christianity many times because of how the different denominations don’t see eye to eye and fight each other. Yet personally I’ve done the same thing with other believers. I’ve writ off or disliked people who think differently. The Church is made up of many members and if we as individuals follow Christ wholeheartedly things will change. We are all in it together. I don’t know where I’m going with this but walking by true poverty everyday really gets you thinking and convicts you. I’ve felt like we were doing what James says not to, seeing someone cold and hungry and just saying, “God bless you, I wish you warm and well fed,” but not actually doing anything about it. The least we could do is give them some food or water or small change. So we’re trying to make a point of not walking by and ignoring people who ask of stuff from us. Ok I’m done.
Later on Sunday we went to the Youth Corps home to meet up with Deus, he runs the show there and I got his number from the YC guys in Gulu. Deus is like 27 and all the guys in the house are in their 20’s. They were awesome, they invited us in and treated us like family. We sat around getting to know each other for a while then we sang some worship and prayed. It was a really neat time, these guys had a huge vision for impacting Rwanda for Christ. Later that night we took them to dinner and then we went home. Through talking with them we asked what life was like for Rwandans after the genocide. Because a majority of the people were involved in the fighting, the new government couldn’t throw everyone in jail. One of the guys told us to imagine what it would be like to live next to and see everyday the man who killed your parents and siblings. Then scale that to a majority of the country. I can’t imagine how hard it would be. Most “families” in Rwanda aren’t exactly what we call families. The parents consist of an aunt or uncle or older sibling, brothers and sisters are cousins, best friends, etc. Its crazy. One of the guys, Emmanuel, took Ilea and I to the Cornerstone Leadership Academy on Monday. The other girls went to a popular lake and actually met Rick Warren there. The CLA was absolutely beautiful. It was on top of a hill overlooking a lake. It was a really good experience, we met the head teacher, the teachers and some students. This school was a three-year process in getting built and started up, so it was really good to see the fruit of all the efforts to get it started. After three years they still don’t have a title and ended up paying for the land twice because a corrupt politician ran off with their money. Our school isn’t built yet and we are only in year one, so it was good to see that in the end all the work is worth it. It really pumped me up.
One last, funny story from Rwanda. This one Rwandan guy approached Kristen and asked her if her friend, Karis, knew kung fu. Karis is Chinese. Kristen sort of gave him a sour look and said no, why would you ask that, so the guy just walked away. So he came back and asked again. Kristen was kind of mad and said no, why did you just ask me again?! The guy looks at her and says, I think I will ask her, but I am afraid. The guy approached Karis, who doesn’t know what the guy asked Kristen but saw her get mad at him and asks her, “Do you play kung-fu?” as he makes kung fu motions. Karis (who is hilarious and has a smart comment for almost anything) just looked at him and did the motions back and said no, I do not play kung fu. The guy goes on to tell her that he wishes to learn kung fu and maybe she could teach him or find someone to teach him. He then tells her he is planning on going to China to learn and asks her for a phone number or email address of someone in China that could teach him. The whole thing was hilarious and Karis retelling it is one of the funniest things. Ok that’s it. I definitely hope to go back to Rwanda someday, it was amazing.