Tag Archives: Uganda

Signs of the Times

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The walk home in the heat and dust has become routine .All sorts of once strange things are familiar .The herd of cattle with their enormous horns tended by the young guys.The jack fruit stall ,the rubbish, goats hens and piglets .

Wait,the tiny piglets are now independent and the goat has now kids.The toddler is coming fowards down the stairs and the papya are ripe .The optimism of the dusty trees has been rewarded  by rain .The leaves are greener and the blossoms are out.
But most poignant of all is the departure of the swallows three days ago.On their way, heading over the huge desert to Europe .The flowers are blooming there too and it’s time to follow and greet the spring.
Thank you,all my new friends and acquaintances and your beautiful country
Time has gone and the refrain for the small children’s “see you” is silenced today out of a sad respect for departure ./em>

But hopefully Uganda …”See You.”
And a definite “See you,UK .I am on my way.”http:// http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oh_Uganda,_Land_of_Beauty

Praising in Papyrus

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Uganda has a great deal to offer the world and my wish is that the world would listen to the Ugandan melodies.
Melodies of culture, courtesy,medicine, courage.Generosity, patience (but not fast enough) hope,love and faith. And the  rarer irritants that go deep deep deep, metamorphose to training tools and transform.

The  church of England offers training for lay ministry and time for reflection outside the usual.Uganda is a few thousand miles outside the usual but I owe huge thanks to my mentors of vision whose gaze reaches beyond a diocese in order to help the diocese. A reader in the church doesn’t just read and the Christian gospel is not geographically bound.

The church I am attached to knows how to praise, it knows how to suffer and it knows how to fight with the  gentleness of Christ. It is hard to know each tiny drop that makes the flood, but each plays it’s part. It is humbling and empowering

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to visit the papyrus reed churches,the church meeting under a tree and the new churches starting.

And the opportunity is great to meet and talk with all the variety of humankind that is offered. From being given the pulpit on International Women’s Day, to the counselling of children,from the pulpit on Ugandan TV to helping the sick children and their parents privilege is too small a word.

So sharing belief is a great unifier of values and desires, direction and understanding. Ugandan fellow followers of Christ teaching me and shining as bright stars with his love in this world.

Catching an evening

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Just waiting, just waiting.The sun is dropping quickly in the sky,  the dusk will come and suddenly the darkness.  This is the time  when the edge of the sun’s power is slightly chipped away.The rinsing of sticky hands and face can be a little less frequent. The light slants and shadows appear.
In the town, the pace of traffic slows and the pace of people powers up the commerce. It’s a time of special change in an evening hour. I love it, but today it’s just a little bit more precious.

The air is gently moving as it cools slowly by ten degrees or so. 34 degrees to 24. Maybe it will dip to 22 tonight with slight dew fall in the morning. But the air is restful as it slightly rustles the leaves.It’s cooling is gentle and relaxing and a longing to live longer in this hairdryer warm world stirs.Mindfulness of moments is acute tonight.

The dogs bark backwards and forwards and the cockrel mutters a quiet goodnight. The loudspeakers in town a mile away are background beat and the frogs croak in the ditch. Crickets fidget in unity and the silent lizard scales the wall.

Power is solar tonight and water is a little bit short.The cooking develops on the outdoor stove and the toddler gives exhaustion cries.

The food is delicious and everyone is sleepy. The call of the lead singer rouses the household to evening prayer and the melodies of praise gently envelop the house and all who dwell here.

I don’t want the intrusion of a mosquito net but spray it anyway and surrender to it’s protection. Did I remember my anti malarial today?

And now, passed midnight this world is quieter and the evening flight to Europe, I assume, has flown overhead as the lone reminder of air travel.

Time to sleep before the jolt of tomorrow.

//https://www.youcaring.com/tuition-fundraiser/new-dormitory-for-school-children-/322669″ title=”Fundraising for Uganda”>

Dust to Dust

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The catch at the back of my throat has gone now.The rainy season has started and the air is clearer.About once a week or may twice there is a real downpour. Red dust turning to mud,Wellington boot mud. The trickling drain turned into a torrent of stones, plastic, paper, rubbish and rainwater.

The dust is the everyday and the mud is the sometimes. And the dust makes me ponder. What is the secret art of living with dust? How do people look so smart and shiny in such a dusty world? The occasional Westerners I meet are a scruffy sight by and large.Dress codes broken through ignorance or heat,but also lack of observation and respect.Choosing  comfort over dignified honour of another’s country code. Ignorant of the slovenliness. Ignorant of the low standards of the casual.Applauding the non ironed look.Yes, I ‘m attached to the scruffy Westerner set with crumples  and dusty shoes… Always.. Almost.

White shirt,smart tie,smart suit and a ride on a Boda Boda   and still the rural pastor looks dignified and smart and mastered the dusting down discretely and immediately.

And there’s the sweeping. No Mr Dyson here.Small children learn the art of stick bundle sweeping at an early age and beat me at it,in effectiveness. And still the dust keeps coming, a thin red shimmer on all but the newly polished cars in Kampala, grubbying the children at play, inhabiting the lungs of the tiny the old and all in between, shaming the water rinsing my hair.

The  wet wipe is a great leveller. Red  red dust off everyone
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Patchwork, bicycling and dolls

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I’m not a baggage handler but if I was I’m sure there’d be times when I’d wonder what all the baggage was about.Where it’s going ,who is it for ? How necessary is it?
Wherever people travel they like to take a little bit of home with them.To bring and take back.Clothes, toothpaste ,a book ,shoes,
although in most countries its easy to buy shampoo and toothpaste.  Security is an important comfort of life.Look how well brands pander to people’s insecurity .They say ‘You know me.You can trust me .And you don’t need to take risk to discover the new and the local.You don’t need to support the strange or the stranger .I’m the only one of quality ” Quite a boring way to follow with loyal blindness into the uniformity of globalisation. The security of baggage and brands can be a trap of restricted experience and a lie that strange is inferior .
But not all baggage is predictable.
And those pioneering the work I have joined in with had great plans of delivering gifts from a variety of sources. If you have read the earlier blog you will remember the bicycle luggage ,but I’ve not yet mentioned the dolls or the clothes or the beautiful quilts.Not my gifts, but the generosity of people who know who their neighbour is and responded .
And so I share with you a little of the distribution of baggage. It emerged as generous gifts from the kindness of strangers ,reaching the surprised on floodwater of joy. We’ve taken some time to deliver assessing need and suitability not wanting to be provoking envy.

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A very big thank you from this family whose life will be transformed by simple transport of a bicycle .Thank you to a colleague .A shock presentation of great happiness .Thank you for letting me experience this.

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And eight little people being blessed by eight magnificent hand knitted dolls ..a few more to distribute amongst children who have recovered from malaria or other sickness. Massive smiles on tiny faces and mothers touched deeply by generosity Thank you.

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What beautiful quilts! The skill in design and execution is tremendous and these have been for little people bringing comfort in poverty .Thank you.Thank you.
The generosity of others has had profound effects .It is a humbling privilege to be a luggage lady,fellow staff have seen professional care and dedication in the givers they may never meet .The transitory handover gave  all round intense pleasure running into lasting practicality and deep experiences of long term gratitude.
Cycling,sowing ,knitting or whatever your baggage, may it  rise out of the dull ,ripple past your security to create extraordinary generosity.

The Tour and the Tourists

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It’s Mr and Mrs this week,with work turning to holiday and visits to Albert Nile and Victoria Nile,Lake Victoria and Lake Albert.
It’s strange dipping into tourist role and seeing other Muzungos.It’s great having even a short spouse sharing time.So we passed sugar cane and papaya,tea and papyrus growing commercially and limiting the preserved rainforest. Commercial necessity giving a nod to nature.

And then we entered tourist world.A strange dance of charm and mistrust,generosity and disappointment, meanness and ‘who cares ? It’s a holiday’ and elation and disbelief. Strangers become contract partners. The luggage a  supposition is that the last person looking vaguely like this one has already set the unbreakable rules of engagement. And as that happens a strange bilateral hint of unspoken dissatisfaction  smoulders. Unspoken  lest the tourist has suspicions aroused ,lest the tourist closes the wallet, less the tourist spoils the holiday atmosphere,less the local doesn’t deliver.
But these sentiments were barely a factor in our paddle to Jinja’s source of the Nile .We were treated to sights of otter,large lizards,kingfishers,monkeys,fish and a myriad of colourful birds. They circle the bubbling water that breaks out of the ground and kisses the outlet of Lake Victoria on it’s way to make power.Power,after tourism as the second,no,third after fishing, use of the Nile waters before it’s many life giving roles on it’s 4000 mile journey.
And so the Victoria Nile parts the silt and the rocks and thunders down into Lake Albert.And tourism embraces the narrowest  Nile and the  wonder of tourists pays respect to the possession of nature.
And in the relaxation camp ,maybe a hippo or a warthog will come by and add value to the moment of the tourist.Random bonanza for a cluster of foreign passer bys and justifying the special Muzungo prices.No exchange for nature that just passes by.Our forests are cleared ,our mountains are bare and our nature is squeezed. May the conservation work of nature flourish wherever it is and the tariffs paid back into nature.The love and the loathing of  tourism.

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Traffic ballet

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To my generation who don’t know Uganda,Entebbe means one thing. Days of tension,anguish ,heat and dehydration and then the storming of the hijacked plane on the runway by Israel.It was a brutal week in a land being schooled in brutality.

But Uganda has moved a long way under the current leadership and brutality is not its voice and the Lords resistance army’s active terror is diminished.
Entebbe may still mean airport,but it means connections,and travel,modernity and progress.A new connecting road to Kampala is being built.
But until then, the route is a dodge game of gap grabbing drivers of cars,minibuses,trucks,motorbikes,bicycles ,interspersed with risk taking pedestrians and impatient in-line skaters.Yes ,rollerbladers,squeezing the gaps.

So many capital cities catch up with ‘How to reach the airport’ years after the cumulative delay time can be measured in decades. So collecting at Entebbe twice in 24 hours was a special call on patience. Two carefully co ordinated arrivals expected on the same plane were thwarted by strength of wind in Yeadon and arrival times were shifted to a separation of 11 hours.
The very early second start for Entebbe was almost featureless,but not the first call out at 7 pm.
The traffic flow,full of disbelief and absent risk aversion included an inner circle of roundabout motorcyclists in the dark travelling in opposite flow to the main traffic.As a choreographed piece of theatre it may have looked wonderful,but the lights on the vehicles were random and the jerky braking of late see-ers spoilt the ballet .And anyway the in line skater proved unpredictable.
Then the stops.Stop.
And the motorcycles moving as if they were plaiting threads around the stationery vehicles.
And the fuel consumption on standing still and the concentration needed but teased by the texting taxi driver.
It was horrible and I don’t want to write anymore about it.
Well done,my drivers,you were superb.

Hallelujah Chorus

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I couldn’t let last Saturday go by without a note on the blog. Being a foreigner at a celebration always heightens the senses ,as the subtle understood-by-the -locals conventions trip you up . I was called upon to represent all the UK supporters and tripped arrogantly forgetting the interpreter.But the level of education in English is high and forgiveness and gentleness flow in abundance here.

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It really was an extraordinary day
Extra Ordinary in the sense that ordinary things and ordinary people achieved extra things and became extra special.Faith grasped the hand of extra ordinary love and extraordinary hope.
Seven hundred or was it eight hundred were fed and the school children had extra and the left over drinks are now lazing in the cool fridge.
The event was superb,celebratory,happy,relaxed,joyful,peaceful and so colourful.Polished shoes and shiny hair ,pressed suits and the long celebratory dresses of a Sunday Best mingled with dust free school uniforms .And a retired clergyman looked immaculate after a twenty mile journey on the back of a BodaBoda (motorbike)  on dust roads.Living with dust is an art.

It was called a consecration of a Bishop….he also had a big seat but it wasn’t called a throne.And the mitre and the crook were all in place as symbols of shepherding the people of God. And after that a new team of pastors were ordained ,twenty in total.Men and women who share the gospel with the poor in the villages and in the towns.People who know their livelihood will be lacking numerous high value shilling notes .They know their Christian calling  and they learn from their Bishop that financial wealth is dwarfed by spiritual satisfaction and fulfilment.The poor will always be with us .
And that was part of the extraordinary.That from a congregation of  the not so well off ,the generosity flowed to provide food,music, hospitality,air fare, renovations and laughter so that the poor could enjoy it,the government ministers could worship,the old and the babies embrace and the military and the civilian dance together in a loud hallelujah ..Ugandan style .

Dressing up

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Busy,busy busy. Everyone is busy.Painting plastering polishing, and still planning. Tomorrow is a very important day as the new Bishop is consecrated. This will be my fourth celebration of a new Bishop in under a year. Not York Minster this time, but under canvas and the open skies of Uganda. And this time, I am very much in on the celebration preparation as my Anglican trained host is to be consecrated. With so many new and vibrant churches,this great teacher has been asked to shepherd the pastors.

Instead of the cathedral, the campus here will be the site of worship. As it is each Sunday. Any  tidying and  improvements will be lasting for the school church community here. But  I  have to stand back a little bit and admire the paced coolness of last minutedness ,as the preparation has had to match the budget and the income comes in at the very last minute.
It’s definitely an African new outfit day with smartness paying respect to dignity.Smartness an act of joyful worship to God.
I’ve seen the Bishop’s robes, but the mitre will be ready 16 hours before its needed. Priorities lay elsewhere. Uh? Bishop’s crook?
Meanwhile  I’ve just been out for a lastminute smart new bag.

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We expect an amazing day of celebration and worship. Pray with us  please.Psalm 23. The Lord is my Shepherd.

http://www.revivalcentrematugga.Co.UK

Giving

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Sunday February  15 th  2015

I’m about to sleep in a quiet place tonight up on the hill where the water goes anticlockwise down the plug.It’s a beautiful African  night with the frogs croaking, and no cockrel. I might sleep too well but I hope I see the sunrise over the lake.

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I’m giving thanks to God for meeting some very special people this evening and this weekend. For  their generosity in giving their time, money, resources and lives to helping others.It is good to hear their stories, listen and learn.

Beatrice and her husband are well educated Ugandans with good jobs.They largely finance their missions to areas of North East Uganda where the hens roost high in the trees and the trauma of the Lord’s Resistance Army still affects man and beast.(Is he that is on trial in the Hague not victim and perpetrator?) They educate and give health care,support churches to serve and rebuild their communities. We laughed a lot and shared news of common acquaintances. We tried to found a FB page for their organisation whilst they relished fish and chips with Internet.Faith inspiration.

I’ve  never heard of a doctor celebrating 50years of work, but this evening I have met a very rare lady.Tales of tooting her horn at a tank  and miraculously seeing it move out of her way in a war zone in Angola .Pioneering work in Uganda for those with consequences of obstructed labour and a lasting legacy of a teaching healing facility. I’m going to learn a lot  here from this long serving nun.
http://renouncereverb.com/2012/05/29/a-new-beginning/

And today we remember a martyr of Uganda. Archbishop Janini Luwum.
Killed by Idi Amin.It was the price of his Christian discipleship that made him say ‘ I live as though there shall be no tomorrow. While the opportunity is there I shall preach the Gospel with all my might and my conscience is clear before God.”    see link
The preacher at the memorial service will be the UKs best known Ugandan, and sufferer under Amin, Rt Rev John Sentamu, Archbishop of York.

Www.archbishopofyork.org/articles.php/2365/janini-luwum

And we hear of Coptic Christians martyred today.Sudanese, Iraqis, Pakistanis, Nigerians,Syrians,Indonesians, all have recent Christian martyrs in their number.And silent news on others. Giving their lives as they live out their discipleship of Christ.

Is  there a response?