Daily life

November 10, 2009

I’ve been in Kigali for a while now, and honestly, it feels like home. With Pastor Frida letting me drive her car, I’m able to go around and run errands without paying for a taxi or boda. Though I have to pay for gas, its not been too much, and even buying gas is a fun experience. In fact, my friend Dudu was with me the first time I bought some and I sort of freaked out a little. “I haven’t had to buy gas in three months. Wow...” He didn’t quite understand why that was a big deal to me, but thats ok. I’ve also learned most of the main streets and can get to almost any location I’d like to. With my linear thinking brain and numerous roundabouts in the city its a little more difficult for me to know which way is north, but I remember streets and am beginning to understand where and how they interconnect. Along with driving, I’ve also been fairly self-sufficient when it comes to getting errands done. After a couple of days in the sun with a new lotion on, I developed a heat rash. I figured out that the cocoa butter cream I used had acted like a sealant over my sweat glands, trapping the perspiration in the pores. When you walk a few miles in the Rwandan sun and heat, and sweat can’t escape, its not going to be pretty. I ended up with a red, bumpy, itchy rash from about mid humerus to mid forearm on the tops of both arms. Someone suggested hydrocortisone cream, but because I hadn’t brought any to Africa with me, I decided to try at the pharmacy. I returned to one that I had seen my friend grab his prescription from and asked the attendant about the cream. “Yes, I have.” With a small amount of money paid (800 Rwandan Francs = about $1.75) I walked out of the pharmacy with the cream. I paid the parking lot attendant and was on my way... Made me realize that if I can do those daily life type things, I could probably manage living here. Exciting realization to have...

Visa celebration

November 9, 2009

I got a phone call today. “Jamie, where are you?” I think I was in town somewhere, but I don’t really remember. The next part was the part I remember. “We got our visas. They are in our hands. We’re going to celebrate with coffee and ice cream! Would love for you to join us at Bourbon.” My good friend Adrienne and her husband were just leaving the embassy with visas in their hands that would allow their family to return to the US. The fruit of a nine month long process, which included lots of papers, prayers and patience on the part of Adrienne and Berchimas. But here they were, calling me in complete joy, as their hopes and prayers had been answered. Adrienne is finally going home. Berchimas finally gets to meet the family he is now a part of. God’s promises are sure...

Observing the process that they both went through in the past few months has been interesting and inspiring to me. As someone who has never had to think about getting a visa into a country before, I’ve never realized the sheer agony that can accompany the process. Not only are there many forms to fill out, documents to collect and a medical evaluation to undergo, in Rwanda there is also an added hurdle of obtaining the necessary papers. Due to the war many people’s legal papers were lost or destroyed. I lost count of the times that Adrienne told me Berchimas had to go back to his hometown to work on getting his papers. At some times I wondered how they kept their hearts right, and didn’t get extremely discouraged. I believe I would have had a hard time keeping a positive outlook towards everything. Needless to say, I’m impressed by them, and extremely happy they obtained their visas...

Kigali Update

November 12, 2009

After a week and a half in Kigali, I suppose I should write an update.

My time here has been good. There have been a few difficult things, but like most things in life, the good has far outweighed the bad and I have been blessed to be here.

The first few days were difficult. Without a set schedule, and a refreshed, ready spirit, I found myself feeling very restless. Though I felt like I could breathe easier here in Rwanda, I was unable to enjoy it for long as I found myself longing for the busyness I had in Uganda. Its a strange thing to realize when you see that you’re addicted to movement and doing things, but also a good realization to have. I found that without a lot to do I was able/forced to think about everything I had experienced in Gulu, which was not necessarily all sugar-plums and gum drops. I would not trade my time in that Northern Ugandan town for anything, but the truth is that a lot of things were difficult to see and experience, so as a defense against my own heart, I didn’t think about it. I just continued in each day, and then reasoned that I would ‘process’ it all later. Somewhat of a joke to me now, as I have been avoiding the processing like its the plague. I began to resent that I had so much free time and all of the old things that I would normally do to get my mind off of it all seemed inadequate and left me wanting. Imagine being in a place where you are trying to wade through so much but not being able to do the wading in a way that seems normal or comfortable. A little daunting, to say the least. I’d like to say that I finally had a breakthrough and was able to really get down to business with going through everything, and am totally through it all now, but that has not been the case. I found things to do and people to hang out with, and have decided that maybe one day I’ll get through it all. I don’t know. For now, I’d rather be doing things than reflecting. Which is exactly what I’ve done.

I was staying at a guest house that Adrienne helped me find and while there was able to get to know a few wonderful girls. One, Hillary, is about my age and got here to Rwanda just shortly after I did. She is interning with Food for the Hungry and will be here until mid-December. She hails from Des Moines, Iowa, though went to college in Chicago. She is a really joyful and funny girl, and has a huge heart for Africa. She, in fact, organized a ton of Invisible Children events at her college so she and I had plenty of things to talk about when it came to Gulu. Such a sweet time... Kirsteen was also living at the house. She came to Rwanda from Scotland, but is from Australia. She has a sweet ascent and sweet spirit, and always makes me chuckle when I hear her say things like “bugga” and “Ah, stuff it!” She was working with an organization but recently that ended, and so now she is planning on heading to Kampala to volunteer at a children’s home. She is an artist, in the truest definition. We found common ground on a few things, including that her home church in Australia is Hillsong. I really love both of these girls, and have realized that the unfortunate part about traveling is that you meet really awesome people and then don’t get to hang out for very long. Not fun, but I also wouldn’t trade these new friendships for anything. 

I also have been able to reconnect with Pastor Frida, the wife of Pastor Gashumba, whom I met last year. This woman is absolutely incredible. I don’t want to toot her horn too much, but she honestly is the epitome of grace. I first was able to spend time with her when she invited met to stay the night at their home. I had some other things I was doing and couldn’t get there until later in the evening but I was still welcomed in as if it were the afternoon. While in our conversation she came to know that I was staying at a guest house, which she quickly questioned. “Why are you spending your money Jamie?! You can stay here!” I told her that if I changed my tickets I would take her up on that, and did so just a few days ago. As if allowing me to stay with her were not enough, she also insisted that I borrow her car so that I would not have to pay for a taxi or boda all the time. I accepted and have been blessed to just jump in the car anytime I need to go anywhere. As I have observed her in dealing with her children, also, I’ve been amazed. I have never seen someone so patient. Maxwell is 5, Natasha is 4 and Regis is 2. With her husband traveling for work and her older daughters at school, she manages her home, raises the kids and is devoted to her ministries in the church. I don’t quite understand how she does it all, but she still is able to see each of her children as the unique littler person they are and is very patient with each one. Its really a great example to me in how to operate in life.

In general, I'm glad to be back in Rwanda. Its like air...

Last day in Gulu

November 1, 2009

Today was the last full day for me in Gulu. Breakfast at Larem sounded like a great idea, so once we were all up and around, the girls and I headed there. We were later joined by Sean and Jared, and had a great breakfast. We talked a bit about the Halloween party the night before and asked the guys what they had thought. “We were going for ‘epic,’ how do you think we did?” “There is a word beyond epic...” YES!!! That made it all worth it! The hair dye came out very easily, actually. Though a few remnants are still there, over all, it came out. 

Packing was a difficult thing to do. I find that I really try to find everything else possible to do, instead of packing. I hate leaving, is what I’ve realized. I love the adventure of arriving, but hate the pain of leaving, and since I equate packing with leaving, I hate packing. So after about a half an hour of it, Alli and I went to the pool. Yes, there is a pool in Gulu! Only one, and its small, but sometimes its worth the 7000 UGX entry fee. Just sitting by the pool, reading, and conversing with friends was a perfect way for me to spend my Sunday afternoon. I don’t think I could have thought of a better way to spend the afternoon, actually. 

As a final dinner we all went to the Ethiopian restaurant. Its one of my favorite places in Gulu, and I’ll miss it a lot. The company was a blessing, also. Being there made me realize just how much I’d miss that community of people. There has been a really great group of people I’ve been able to get to know here in Gulu, and we all get along as we all have a common heart link. We all are in Africa, want to be here, and want to serve here. Though I have wonderful friends and a beautiful family in Oregon, not all of our lives are after the same things. Passions are different. Which is not bad, but there is something about being within a group of people who all share the same passion that is freeing and incredible. It makes it easy to feel at home here and that much more difficult to leave. Yet, I believe that home can be found when I chase after God’s heart. Though my geographic location may change, as I seek God’s heart, there I’m at home. It is hard to be here because the color of my skin gets me different treatment than is normal, but I still love being here. I don’t enjoy the preferential treatment. I’m not any different than the local people. And I hate being treated as though I am.

When we left Ethiopian, the girls and I headed home and met Eric on the way. He wanted to say goodbye and even sang to me. He is great! I said my last ‘good night girls’ tonight, and then tried to sleep. At 1:20 am, I am still awake and should be sleeping. I’m getting up in something like 4 hours to board a bus for Kampala. For some reason, the night before going anywhere, I can never sleep. I suppose maybe its the excitement of what is coming that inhibits me? Or maybe trying to remember everything, I’m not sure.

I’ll board the Post Bus in a few hours and make my way out of Gulu, and to Kampala. And as I contemplate leaving, there is sadness. Once again I find myself leaving a place that has ministered to me in more than one way, and I find myself reflecting on the time spent. All of the hardship or trials pass away in this time as I remember the fun, joy and growth that occurred. Its not easy, but its a blessing, nonetheless.

Halloween in Gulu

October 31, 2009

This morning I went to Cafe Larem early in order to Skype with my mom. After a great conversation I decided to leave but I got a text from Alli saying “Coy and Robbi are making breakfast. Want to come?” I said yes and after a quick stop at the bank was on a boda headed to their house. When I arrived I was the first one there so I greeted Sean and Robbi. Robbi welcomed me with a big hug that smelled of the pesto she would be adding to her bread that was rolled out on the counter. I love that Italian girl! I asked if I could help and we began chopping. Coy was at the market so there wasn’t much to prepare, but I helped where I could.

The breakfast ended up to be enormous. We had eggs, sausage, chapatti, french toast, banana pancakes, fruit salad, fresh salsa, coffee, hash browns and all the delicious fixings that go with. It was incredible and so much fun. There ended up being about a dozen people there, helping in the kitchen, having conversations, drinking coffee, catching up and just enjoying the community. A few time I found myself just stepping back in amazement at the beauty of it all. The love and grace for each other that we all had was so thick that one could have bathed in it, and it was the purest form. Just getting together, mutually edifying each other... Not much sweeter than that.

After we all had enough to eat and the conversations came to an end, the girls and I headed home. I stopped to pick up my dress and shorts from Florence and continued home. I worked on a few things until it was time to get ready, which was an experience. I began the fun by sitting in the chair as Jessie constructed a veritable cone contraption on top of my head using an empty water bottle, hairspray, bobby pins and hair ties. After the cone was constructed it was time to make it yellow. We went outside and began to spray on the bright yellow hairspray. This spray was easily the most expensive part of the whole costume, and about half way through coating my ahri, it ran out. Not so cool to be a half-yellow headed troll. Then Alli remembered the tempura paint that hides out under the kitchen counter. She rain into get it as I attempted to remove the bright yellow dye that was now running down my face. Alli emerged from the house carrying the bottle of bright yellow paint and then the discussion began about whether or not it was water based. Would it come out? At this point I already didn’t care. “Go ahead, Alli.” And so the application began. For about the next ten minutes Alli smeared bright yellow paint into my hair. All I could say, in the end, was wow.

We successfully got dressed, got to the party and answered all the questions of “What the heck?!” It was so fun, as about 100 people got together. We danced, talked and just hung out. There were some impressive costumes, including the Village People, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and a couple of girls who dressed up as bread and a tub of Blue Band (a margarine you buy here). Who would have thought Halloween in Gulu could be so much fun?!

Baking, home ec and children's smiles

October 30, 2009

This morning the girls and I headed over to Sean’s house to do our baking. Jessie wanted to make cinnamon rolls and I was going to make chocolate chip cookies. Once I had admitted to the girls that I’m ok at making cookies, they wanted me to try it out in Gulu. While we were in Kampala they picked up all the necessary ingredients, so all I had to do was make them. I texted Bee to make sure of the recipe and then the fun began. It proved to be a little interesting to make the cookies for a variety of reasons. Every ingredient’s measurement was a guess (no measuring utensils), converting from metric to imperial, no microwave to melt butter, a broiler pan instead of a baking sheet, and a gas powered oven with two settings, hot and hotter. I made a disclaimer before I started that I couldn’t guarantee success but they didn’t seem to mind. 

The cookies ended up turning out pretty well (by my standards) and amazingly everyone enjoyed them. Sean was like a bigger version of Issa Stroud, sneaking the uncooked batter out of the bowl and into his mouth. I didn’t mind at all but just found it comical. Along with Sean and the girls, Coy also sampled the cookies. Coy is Robbi’s fiance, and is great. He hails from Boone, North Carolina and is possibly the easiest person to talk to. Within a couple minutes of talking I felt completely comfortable, as if I can known him for a long time. He engages with people, looks them in the eye and listens. Both he and Robbi completely bless me. They are real. She is from southern Italy and loves better than anyone I’ve ever met. They met while doing work in Darfur and plan to marry soon. I’m so glad to have met them.

Along with baking cookies, I also helped Karly with sewing her hat for Halloween. She found a great hat at the Owino market on Saturday but it needed some alterations. In true to my Thiel roots, I came to Africa prepared for just about anything, which means I definitely had a sewing kit. I told Karly it’d be no problem to fix the hat, so after baking I sat down to continue the home ec kick. I have to admit, it turned out to be an ok pirate hat.

After all the bakign was done we went to the market to drop off our costume fabric. I took mine to Florence and made sure she knew that the bigger the better. She laughed as I explained it to her and I got excited to see the result. She is such a sweet lady and always seems maybe a little surprised to see me but I enjoy going to talk with her.

After dropping the fabric, I went through the market to grab a few things for dinner. Because we had all eaten so many sweets neither the girls nor myself were hugnry for any real food. Fresh veggies are the perfect meal in a situation like that.

Every time I go to the market and walk home with my bag brimming with groceries I get a little messed up. On my way home I walk by the police ‘village.’ Most of the military here lives in government housing, which consists of metal huts and horrible toilet and bathing facilities. The level of poverty is great. I also pass by the Police Primary School. There are literally thousands of kids attending school there, and even thought the grounds are kept very nice, from what I can see from the road, there are very basic conditions there. So here I go walking by with a grocery bag full of food. And I’m not saying that I should not eat, but sometimes I just want to give the bag away. I know its not sustainable and a hand out doesn’t last, but it’d fill their stomach for a little while. I don’t know. Nonetheless I made my way home with such a bag of groceries and dropped them at home. I felt incredibly restless upon arriving there so I grabbed my camera and headed back towards town, reasoning that I’d take a picture walk.

I went on my normal path in front of the stadium and was planning on proceeding past Watoto in order to take some pictures of the church. Then, there, near the boda stage, I met her.

Her name is Barbara. She greeted me as most children do and asked me how I was. I explained that I was well and she asked if we could meet sometime. I said we were meeting now and she agreed. We began chatting as we walked on and I began to ask a few questions. She was there with her brother, Rocky, and they were on their way home. She is 10, he is 8. They have two more siblings, Fiona and Rogess. They stay near Watoto, behind the nearby forest. When I asked if they stay with their parents, the answer was no. With their grandmother. Both parents died in 2004 of Aids. WHen I asked about school she explained that she doesn’t go now. She did, but now there is no money for school fees, so at 9 years old her education was halted. She used to attend Holy Rosary Primary, where her favorite subject was science, especially sanitation. She enjoys playing net ball and prays at the Christian church. Her favorite food is beans, but because of the way things are, they only eat lunch during the day. She is very smart and unafraid, and I had a difficult time remembering she is only ten years old.

I asked if buying some food at the market would be helpful to her and her family. She replied that it would, and her grandmother would thank her and say she did a good thing. We went to the market and bought rice, beans, oil, cabbage, bananas and bread. As the bags filled up I wasn’t allowed to count the cost. God reminded me that He hasn’t counted anything when He’s given all of what He has to me. He’s just given. I know that maybe that food will not last past a week, and I know that a hand out is not the best way to help. But my belly would be full this evening, and for theirs to not be... That bothers me.

As we were walking back to their home Barbara said, “you said you were going to the market, but then you didn’t buy anything for yourself.” I explained that I had spent the money on them. She said I was a kind person and may be one day she would be too. I encouraged her to do that. To be kind. She said she didn’t have money, but I explained that I don’t have a lot, but kindness can be done without any money. I asked her to promise to be kind if she got the chance she promised.  

I realize this story is common here. Seeing the faces of her sibling almost made me cry, and I’m thankful. My heart should be broken over children not eating, over orphans, over poverty. Though this was one instance, maybe more ‘one instances’ can see this world changed. A promise to be kind...

Is this being in love?

While talking with a friend I had this revelation. Not sure if its right on, but a good idea anyway...

I love it here and even when its NUTS, I love it even more. I think that is what it means to be in love. When things get harder, you love it more. Ya?