Questioning from Kapchorwa

I am facing the fact that I have two weeks left in this place that I have come to call home. I am anxious to be back in the states but in the same moment I am begging time to slow down so that I can spend more time in Uganda. I can’t believe that the goodbye is approaching so quickly.

Being here has provided me space to observe things and ask questions that I haven’t allowed myself to before. Much of this blog is my own questioning and critique of the lifestyle that I am accustomed to back home, as a result there is a lot of comparison between life in the West and life in Uganda. My prayer is that as you read this you are invited into my questionings rather than feeling condemned by whatever I am saying. These are not conclusive thoughts but rather my own processing and my own wonderings through observation and participation in a different way of being.

Hospitality:

My week in Kapchorwa was full of learning new skills and sharing in beautiful conversations. My Mom, Martha, was such a strong, capable, and loving woman. She graciously invited me to be part of her family and to participate in the details of life. I was allowed to live life alongside others, to dig, to pick coffee, to milk the cow, to cook with my Mom, to bathe the children, and to share multiple cups of tea with the neighbors.

The sweetest welcome into the family was the way in which Martha allowed me to participate in daily living. At night Martha, Wilfred and I would sit in the kitchen-hut as a family and hold the kids on our laps until they fell asleep. Then we would carry them one by one into the house and tuck them into bed. It was those evenings where I would look around at my family and catch myself whispering, "I love this". Life was meaningful because I was living with others and for others. I don’t know how else to describe it, but I was so moved at the simplicity and beauty of the communal living.

People matter everywhere, but in Uganda everyone seems to matter just a little bit more. Community is the number one priority here. Where the West says "I think, therefore I am" Uganda says "I participate, therefore I am". In all aspects of life your fellow man still matters more than your own needs.

You greet everyone, because everyone matters.

In Kapchorwa I received a sincere invitation to live life together as we were. I experience true and full hospitality. I was invited just as I was to meet with people just as they were, and to be with them fully.

It finally made sense that hospitality is not a ‘welcoming’ yet it is a presence of being.

With Others : For Others

Throughout my week in Kapchorwa I was struck by the reality that life has meaning. In the West we are driven and motivated towards success, yet in the process we often neglect to see the meaning within the very process of living. If you asked anyone from the West if they believe life has meaning they would respond with an automatic ‘yes’, yet our actions do not show it, nor do they lead us to live a life which is meaningful.

Living with my family in Kapchorwa I felt that every detail of the day was valued. Whether it was sharing milk tea with a neighbor, walking forty-five minutes to get firewood, or fetching water from the community tap – there was meaning because it was done with others. Everything was done in community and was done for others. In a week’s time with these people I feel that I have learned more about family and more about generosity than I have in a lifetime of attending church. In Uganda community is lived.

I find it really ironic that in the United States we assume and claim that we are living for others. It is true that we have numerous social services that work to provide for others: we help the homeless, we provide foster-care for abandoned children, we counsel the depressed, we provide service for refugees, we offer disaster relief… yet we do not live daily, detailed lives for others. We are individualistic. We are motivated to provide for ourselves and our small sphere of family. In all honesty, we live life separate from others.

This presents an evident dichotomy between what we proclaim as our purpose in life and how we actually live. It was not until my week in Kapchorwa that I realized this fully. Entering into a lifestyle where people, community, and family are truly a priority has allowed me to recognize the blind spot through which we live in the West.

The Language of Poverty:

Another thing that I have been wrestling with since living in Kapchorwa is the language of ‘poverty’. I lived in a community that a Westerner would look at and ignorantly label as ‘poor’. Children were running around without shoes, (most) houses were made out of mud, and the clothes people wore were dirty and worn out; but does that really define poverty? Does that really call for ‘relief’ work being sent in the form of Christmas-shoe-boxes stuffed with meaningless toys?

What I observed was a happy family who had everything they needed – even though it was radically less than what I was accustomed to. Throughout the week I came to realize that I live in extreme excess. It is not that my family in Kapchorwa was lacking anything; it was that my life of excess material things defined their lifestyle as lacking.

Spending time with these people and entering into a new way of being has re-emphasized to me what is and what is not important in life. Taking joy in your livelihood is important – making a large profit off it not; surviving and supporting your family is important – being so consumed with making money so as to live in luxury is not; being generous and giving your time and money to others is important – holding tightly to your possessions and being concerned with preserving them is not.

This week I was welcomed with open arms not only into a family, but into a community. I was given the gift to enter into the daily rhythm of a simple life.

Uganda has so much more to give me than what I could ever offer them.

I have been so humbled.

Reality.

This post was written in mid-October... but between mid-terms and preparing for our rural home-stays, it was never completed. Eventually there will be a post about my experience from Kapchorwa, where we were for the past week, but for now, experience Luwero.

This past weekend a group of us from USP traveled to Luwero, a region in central Uganda which has been devastated by past wars. The Luwero Triangle is the area from which the current president, Yoweri Museveni fought his guerilla war from 1981-1986, to take power of the government in 1986. The five-year war was bloody and devastating. Twenty-five years later people in Luwero are still deeply affected by it, both psychologically and physically. This area is one of the poorest in Uganda because the infrastructure and agriculture of the area were wiped out along with much of its population. This area is also one which contains one of the highest percentages of HIV/AIDS. We were able to hear from local church leaders and Ugandans who are working to build and strengthen their communities. This trip was beautiful. It was a mixture of sweet-faced kids and challenging testimonies. I felt so blessed to be a witness to it all.

We spent Saturday morning and afternoon loving and being loved by children of the community. We visited a Compassion International site in the small town of Nsawo which provides support and care to 270 kids within the community. We attended class, worshiped, and played with them. But most of all we loved each other. people in Luwero are still deeply affected by it, both psychologically and physically. This area is one of the poorest in Uganda because the infrastructure and agriculture of the area were wiped out along with much of its population. This area is also one which contains one of the highest percentages of HIV/AIDS. We were able to hear from local church leaders and Ugandans who are working to build and strengthen their communities. This trip was beautiful. It was a mixture of sweet-faced kids and challenging testimonies. I felt so blessed to be a witness to it all.

Sweet little Nakato stole my heart. She is a six-year old sweet-heart who had a grin that was too big for her face. She would melt me every time she looked up at me and smiled. We spent all day together hand in hand, skipping down the road, teaching each other songs, jumping over puddles, and sharing our laughter together. A game of duck-duck-goose brought me endless laughter because whenever I was ‘goose’ and switch spots with another kid within seconds Nakato would dart across the circle and find my lap. The way she showed me her love was such a gift to receive. It was neat to see the mutual-exchange of love, I was not just showing her love, she was showing me the same. Nakato certainly left fingerprints on my story here in Uganda.

Later that evening we heard from two church leaders; the Anglican Bishop of Luwero, Bishop Kisekka and Father Gerrie Wamala, a Catholic priest and brother to Emmanuel Katongole. Both leaders shared their experiences of working with and for people who are living through very challenging circumstances- still reeling from war, the dependency that subsequent government handouts has created, the influx and devastation of HIV/AIDS and lack of education/resources. The Bishop spoke of the holistic approach to his work, empowering people to rebuild their own communities and providing for their physical as well as spiritual needs.

Father Gerrie spoke of, and radiated hope. He brought with him a young woman who was born HIV+. He has walked with her and encouraged her as she struggled through the loss of her parents, her own diagnosis, the challenge of high school and the painful stigma that came with her disease-- a disease she did nothing to earn. Maggie graduated top in her class, and today is on a government funded full scholarship to university in Kampala. She has hope and a future.

I was so moved to hear Maggie’s story. Before I met her AIDS had been distant from my life. It had never affected me. I had heard about it – yet I only let is penetrate me as a statistic – as a number. That night it became real to me. In front of me was a beautiful woman telling me that she questions daily whether she will be blessed enough to finish out another year at University. It hit me how blessed I am. I felt so selfish and so ignorant for not being affected by what I have heard about AIDS until this day.

It was such a strange contrast of joy and devastation which we experienced this weekend. I spent all afternoon marveling at the grin of a child and then was faced with the damaging reality of HIV/AIDS.

Reality hit me this weekend.

Things which I have selfishly allowed to not affect me are radically changing – and ending – peoples’ lives across the world.

Mukwano.

Children’s excited shouts of ‘Mzungu’ greet me everywhere I go. On my walk to and from school I pass a house where eight children live. Every morning and afternoon without fail, they will come running up to me chanting "Hi Mzungu! Hi Mzungu". I have met them with smiles and open arms, some of the brave ones have started running up to me to shake my hand. Once I pass them and say goodbye, they begin their chant of "Bye Mzungu – bye Mzungu"; I can hear it all the way until I reach the corner, give them one last wave, and turn out of sight.

So many times I just want to pick them up, ask them their names, laugh with them, and actually be known to them as Erika rather than as Mzungu.

Every Thursday I spend four hours at a school called The Chain Foundation. This is the highlight of my week. Chain is a place filled with joy where many marginalized children are treated as equals. It is the only school in central Uganda where visually-impaired students sit side by side with their peers sharing the same desk space and receiving the same instruction. It is estimated that there are over 400,000 blind children within Uganda. Very few of those are given an education; they are often kept behind doors or are isolated in blind orphanages. Because of this, it is incredible to witness the integration of these blind students in the regular education classroom and to see the mutual respect students have for one another.

This Thursday I worked with three blind students, Sam, Peter, and Suzan. My role was to merely dictate the questions which were written on the board to them as they typed it on their Braille writers. These students are incredibly bright and are usually the first ones done with their work in the class. During some down time with Suzan I asked her about her family, her brothers and sisters, and her childhood. As we talked she gently placed her had in mine and asked me if she could call me “Mukwano”

Mukwano means friend.

Sitting side by side with this precious girl, I looked down at her hand in mine, looked at her face and was struck by the reality that this girl had asked to call me her friend. This girl did not see the difference between my skin color and hers which I saw as I looked down at her hand in mine.

I felt a release from the title ‘Mzungu’ which has followed me everywhere and realized that for this girl, for this one precious girl, I was defined by something greater than my white skin and foreign accent.

I was no longer Mzungu, I was known as Mukwano.

The Ministry of Presence

This past weekend there was fire in the house of Maama Joyce’s niece. Everything in Irene’s room was destroyed – her bed, mattress, bedding, clothes, photographs, and her woven mats which she makes for a living.

That night I was able to experience the Ugandan way of supporting one another – it is truly the ministry of presence. All of us went down to be with Irene, Kato, and Bebidie as soon as we heard about the fire. There were already many neighbors and family members gathered there. Maama Joyce gave them some advice and showered them with her love. She led us in songs of both thanksgiving and of mourning to God; then she prayed for Irene and her family.

I had goose bumps witnessing it. I truly felt as if I was on holy ground.

Looking around the room where we were sitting, there was such support and love for this family. Neighbors had gathered to offer all that they had – their presence, and it was more than enough; it was powerful. Even when there were no words to say, people sat together in silence simply sharing the same space in order to show their support and to feel what Irene was feeling. Although this event was very tragic, I felt so honored to witness that time. The support for one another in Uganda is overwhelming.

In the West we have moved away from giving ourselves to each other, we merely give things. When someone is ill we send them flowers and a card, if it is a family member’s birthday often people will send money… why have we moved away from giving ourselves and our presence? We always ask what we can do – I have observed this tendency in so many Westerners – but especially in myself. I love it when I come home and Eve or Maama Joyce has something that I can do to “help”. I feel so good when I wash the dishes in the morning before class, but perhaps there is something even more valuable than the act of washing dishes, perhaps I need to be aware of the manner in which I do them. We can get so caught up with doing, that in turn, we lose sight of how to do so appropriately.

The Western mindset is task-oriented. We make lists and goals and we check them off feeling accomplished. We become so driven by productivity that we overlook the immense value of meeting with people.

In sitting with Maama Joyce and Irene on Sunday night I was so struck by the idea that the most powerful thing we can give to one another is our presence. We are not called to “fix” the problems which people face – we are merely called to be present with them through their darkest personal hells.

We have a profound need for a paradigm shift – from doing to being. We need to learn the ministry of presence, to lament, rejoice, and to shoulder one another’s the burdens alongside each other. Similarly we need to enter humbly into other cultures, be present with them, feel what they feel, and have a mutual exchange of joy and learning. Maama Joyce has been teaching me the first steps of this and it has been such a gift to receive.

The Catch-Up

Friends, I apologize greatly for how little I have posted thus far. It has been a busy few weeks of settling into the rhythm of life here in Uganda along with the start of school. It has been a whirlwind, but a good one. We got back from Rwanda the night before classes started, and since then I have been trying to understand my scattered thoughts from Rwanda. The trip was such a mixture of immense pain and incredible hope. This weekend I realized that it was a futile effort to try and communicate all that I was thinking from Rwanda – I’m sure I will spend much of my life sorting it out. So, rather than describe to you all that has happened in the past few weeks I will try to communicate to you how I am here – now – where I am.

I have been here about a month now and things are finally starting to settle into a rhythm. I love living with the women that I do. This house is full of laughter, every night without fail we have some moment of hysterics, whether it is over the killing of a cockroach, some mishap with me in the kitchen, or the soap opera of the night, it is always present.

Maama Joyce is as sweet as ever. She is a jokester and a sweetheart all in one. She also has wisdom straight from the Lord's heart - I admire and love this woman.

Joanna, my older sister, is a gentle spirit. For the most part she is quiet - but sometimes she is as sassy as can be and she makes us all laugh uncontrollably.

Sarah is another sister who has come to live with us in the past two weeks. She is Mamma Joyce's grand-niece, but her grandfather (Maama's J's brother) passed away a few years ago, so Maama Joyce took Sarah as her own granddaughter, and loves her as her own daughter. Sarah is so great. She is the girl that I spend most of my time with, exploring Mukono, going to the market, and joking around with.

And then there is lovely Eve. Eve is our house helper, but I consider her a sister. She has been a very dedicated Luganda teacher – she works so patiently with me and laughs with me over the silly pronunciations that I come up with in trying to say what she says so beautifully. I spend many evenings in the outdoor kitchen with Eve, sitting on the stool next to her, marveling at how she cooks. I also have Eve to thank for teaching me the art in killing cockroaches (learn from my mistake, you should not squash a cockroach – they smell awful when you do, and the stench lingers all throughout dinner). Often when I come home from school, Eve is the only one home because Sarah is still at school, Joanna is working at the shop, and Maama Joyce is out visiting the neighbors. Because of this I have come to know Eve very well, her English is somewhat limited and my Luganda is nothing to speak of, but our conversations are always filled with laughter and sincerity.

Here in Uganda, when someone is a guest in a house a way to honor them is to serve them a very large portion of food. Likewise, the respect is returned by eating all that you have been served and by going back for seconds... needless to say I have been eating A LOT. You have heard the saying "go big or go home" but here it seems appropriate to translate that as "go home BIG" :)

The first Saturday I was home I spent all day cooking and washing clothes alongside Eve. Time passed in a strange way, I really only did three things that day – cooked lunch, washed my clothes, and cooked dinner… I am not accustomed to meals taking all day to prepare and clean up from. There was so much joy in merely sitting next to Eve on the stool and peeling potatoes and matoke. I enjoyed it so much because was able to join in and be part of the beautiful process called life.

I have been learning that I must re-learn everything I know about daily living – my way of doing things at home is worthless here. Cooking, washing, bathing, cleaning dishes, even the simplicity in cooking potatoes – it is all a new process. That day especially, made me realize that most of my knowledge is head-based knowledge rather than experiential. Eve had to show me everything that day. As I helped rinse the dishes Eve looked at me and said, “Eh, wash properly,” and I was then showed how to properly rinse dishes. As I said, my way of doing things from home don’t fit here.

Life in Uganda is filled with seemingly sacred rituals – peeling matoke, sitting in silence together, stirring posho, lighting the charcoal fire. They each have a specific way to be done, I love that it is such a process. The rhythm of life feels right.

Another big lesson that living in Uganda has taught me is the incredible meaning of 'family'. Here, family is the most important thing - more than financial stability, more than education, more than any other relationship - your family is your family.

I love understanding family through the eyes and life of Maama Joyce. She has eight biological children, yet she has twenty-seven other sons and daughters. The first few weeks I was so confused because I had already met seven of the eight biological children, but then at church I would be introduced to people who were other brothers and sisters. Maama Joyce had 18 siblings in her family, and slowly as they have passed away, she has taken their children and grandchildren as her own children. One day I asked her how she was specifically related to one of her 'children', her reply was in laughter but plain and simple "he is my son". There is no need to label who someone specifically is, they are family. In reflecting on that, I thought how ironic it is in the U.S. that we label exactly who people are - for instance, 'my second-cousin-once removed' ...? It seems to lessen the distance between people if we are to simply call them what they are, our family members. What does it imply about our relationships that we use the label of 'distant relatives'? Does that do more harm than help? Here in Maama Joyce’s family, every one of your relatives is family and they are loved, visited, and treated as such.

Relationships are valued so highly here. Visitor are always welcomed, greeting people warmly is a way to bless others, and people will put everything on hold in order to spend time with someone who they haven’t seen for a while. I see so much of God’s heart in these people. Our God is relational at the core of God’s-own-being, and Ugandans reflect that so well.

I have much to learn.

Where to Begin...

Here I am. This place is beautiful in every way.

We arrived to campus Tuesday night after 40+ hours of traveling; we awoke in the morning to the sounds of beautiful Uganda… insects, birds, monkeys, and birds that sound like monkeys. Our view from campus of Mukono is of the hills that are filled with houses, trees, and matoke gardens. For those of you who don’t know, ‘matoke’ is a staple food here in Uganda. The best way I can think to describe it is that when it grows, it looks like little green bananas, yet when you cook matoke you mash it up and steam it in banana leaves to a consistency similar to mashed potatoes. It is served with various sauces such as g-nut sauce, beef or chicken sauce – it is so good. So far I have had matoke almost every day for nearly every meal – I love it.

My host family is very, very sweet and very hospitable. I live with Mama Joyce Serukenya, my sister Joanna, and Eve – a girl who lives with us and helps out with cooking and chores. The four of us live in the neighborhood of Nabuti which is located on the other side of the hill from campus. I live about 20 minutes away from campus, every morning I will walk through Mukono to school along a dirt road that then turns into a dirt path through a matoke field and to the rear entrance of campus.

Last night my family and I gathered for prayer at nine. During this time we sang hymns, in Lugandan and in English, read a chapter of Romans, and then prayed together. It was beautiful. I felt so welcomed and so accepted. This wonderful family has hosted many students in the past – so they are used to our strange way of doing things and gently correct me to do things that are culturally acceptable. Our family owns around 200 chickens (which means about 200 eggs to collect every morning) of which they sell in the market, share with neighbors, and use themselves. It has only been one night that I have stayed with my family, and already I feel so welcomed.

Since being here I have received a new name. Nakato. In Uganda there are names for different types of twins. Since I am a girl, and the second to be born – I am Nakato. If I were a boy and the second to be born I would be Kato. Yet my twin brother Cory would be Waswa, because he is a boy and the first to be born. This place is beautiful in every way, even the detail and articulation of the language is beautiful. I have only been here for a full 2 days and this place is already integrated into my heart.

Flying into Entebbe was beautiful! We were flying over Lake Victoria as the sun was setting and all throughout the lake we could see various islands – the sight almost made me choke up with emotion. I was finally landing in the beautiful Uganda. Yet within the first few days of being here I have realized that I do not only have so many things to learn (bathing out of a bucket, washing my clothes by hand, how to pronounce this beautiful language etc.) but I also have many things to UNlearn.

Tomorrow we leave for Rwanda for ten days. So I will be out of touch until then. Please be praying for this time – it will be very intense, very real, and will require a lot of processing. We come back on the night of September 4^th and then start classes on the morning of the 5^th… the first two weeks here will be very busy and very full.

I apologize that this bolg post is so scattered - there is just no way to communicate what this beautiful place is like – because there is no way to capture every little detail in words. There is no way to tell you what it is like to experience my first African rain storm, or describe to you the smell of Ugandan tea, or for you to understand the stillness of the matoke field that is behind our house. Likewise there is no way to describe the peace that I felt as I entered into a home that I ignorantly considered strangers and was immediately welcomed by the name ‘daughter’. These things are indescribable. And there are no words. You must come see for yourself.

So friends, I invite you - come see.

Five Days Away

You all have been a part of this journey that is taking me to Uganda. Whether you have been involved directly or indirectly, you each have influenced me in some way. You have offered your wisdom, shared your excitement about traveling abroad, or engaged in conversations that have challenged the way I think – and each of you have shared your love which I will carry with me to Uganda, thank you all.

I am leaving on Sunday, August 21^st. It seems very surreal that this is already here. For those of you who do not know, I will be going to school and living in Mukono, Uganda from mid August to mid December. This is not a missions trip, but a study abroad trip – most people hear ‘Uganda’ and assume that I am going to serve, preach, or “save”. But in actuality I have the immense blessing of entering into this culture as a learner, realizing that I have much to learn from the Ugandan people and culture.

Mukono is located about 20 miles east of Kampala, Uganda’s capitol city. While I am there I will be studying at Uganda Christian University in their Intercultural Ministry and Missions program. In addition to class time centered on contemporary political, social, economic and religious issues confronting African peoples and countries, my days will be spent on campus studying, worshipping and eating with Ugandan peers. However, most of my time will be spent in an even more effective learning environment: a Ugandan family.

This is what I am most excited about – I will have the entire semester to be integrated as a member of a Ugandan family. I am told that I will live close enough to walk to the university, but far enough to escape the ‘bubble’ that is so familiar to Christian colleges. Life with a Ugandan family will include eating Ugandan meals, bathing from a bucket, and having limited communication (internet is available on campus, but not in the homes). I have also been told that the majority of homes will have electricity, but most will not have indoor plumbing. Personally I am thrilled about this –I am thrilled that I get to enter into the rhythm of daily life in Uganda through the context of a family.

In addition to the time we spend in Mukono, we will have a one week rural home stay in a village called Kapchorwa, and we will spend one week in Rwanda. There we will learn firsthand about the genocide that occurred in 1994 as we meet people who witnessed the conflict and are working towards reconciliation.

I am anticipating that these next four months will lead to a challenging and a deepening of my faith as I encounter real questions, real injustices, and real cultural differences. I am both nervous and eager to come face to face with these questions that have no human answer, yet which encourage me to wrestle and find the same questions in the heart of our Creator – who is our ultimate answer.