Finding Rhythm
I remember getting ready to come to Africa I talked to a friend about the challenges ahead. There is an outline that was made as to the emotional process someone goes through while working in another country. Like most things in life my process here seems to have not followed this outline. According to the outline stated that the entry was easy and the first struggles come about three or four months in. I thought this seems about right being this would also fall around the holidays which also carry an emotional tie of home and family. I remember sharing my thoughts with my friend as he shook his head, I think you will find your challenge at the beginning and by the time the holidays hit will find yourself at home.
Traveling over the reality that this is truly happening sunk in and I was faced with my own fears can I do this. The London airport was under heavy surveillance and it took over three hours to get through the international terminal. After being put in yet another wrong line by a worker placed they’re to help us conveniently move through this process I cracked and found myself breaking down while standing in line. The tears came and their was nothing I could do to stop them. Embarrassed confused and so very alone all I could think was that if I couldn’t make it through the airport how was I going to make it through this year. Just then some sort of miracle happened and in that moment a worker pulled me out of this mass of people standing in line and moved me up to the front. Maybe it was the tears though I thought my break down was quite discreet or maybe she was trying to save these people from me starting a scene but in any case I was thankful. For what I knew is she knew nothing of my process and all I was left to think was at that at this very moment I was seeing an act of God. That might seem heavy that God would care about me getting through the London airport but I have to believe that there are moments that He is aware that we are in need of a sign
Landing in Africa seemed serial. I love the people, my heart had been so tied to this dream of coming here. But the thing about a dream is that standing in its reality is quite different. I found myself questioning everything inside of me. Can I do this? Far away from the support of the people who had loved me so well, here I was. Not only was I faced with the challenges of being far from home but everything was new my room, the culture, language, food, bathing, and toilets. All my previous trips to Africa had been with a team of people, which serves as a buffer from you needing to fully enter into this new world. For sure you still are able to experience pieces of their life but at the end of the day you have this group of people to process with, that know you, get your humor, and can understand all the difference of life in this foreign land.
Being faced with these challenges seemed to change my attitude on a daily basis. Much of the first few months here in Uganda felt like a roller coaster exciting, scary, and at times nauseating. I expected being faced with others challenges but never had thought of my own.
Over the past months challenges im faced with nonetheless most especially I am challenged to look at myself through a new lens. In confronting my own weakness and insecurity my soul has found rest. Somewhere along the way life began to find a rhythm. Now days it seems I forget that this once was all so foreign to me and now just feels like home. Everyday still has its challenges and for sure I never fail to learn something new every day but I have come to see that no matter were I stand life has challenges and continues to call us to rise above them.
Its hard to believe that its coming on eight months that I have been here in Uganda. My anticipation of the things that I would see and do have changed greatly. You anticipate coming into this land and being able to make some great impact. Now I see that first I needed to be impacted before I could begin to share that with others. My heart is broken at times. I have little answers for the suffering that I cannot begin to meet the needs of. Often I find myself praying for miracles and pleading for understanding. It seems sometimes that really we are only scraping the surface of never ending amount of needs and sometimes I wonder what im doing here. During these moments come the gentle reminders as someone slinks in my room. Making a cup of tea we talk, they thought there cry went unheard and it seems in its persistence that indeed now we find that God is answering them one person at a time.
I always have had a hard time understanding why there was so much loss, suffering, and pain in this world. I still wonder and yet am filled with no question. My western mind looks to find a way to fix it all but at times im faced with the fact there is no resolution. Last year I got the privilege to share at a discipleship class that my church ones. My teaching was on purpose passion and gifting. In sharing with the class I asked them to pull to mind someone who had influenced there lives, maybe it was a family member, teacher, boss, friend, even a brief encounter with someone who was really just a stranger. I then asked them to erase them from their memory. What would your life be missing? When choosing to walk out our dreams and who we were created to be we impact the lives around us. Sometimes I think we are so busy searching to do something big or be someone great that we fail to see that lives greatest impacts are found sitting with a friend, loving your family, encouraging your student, and inspiring your employees. I want to start seeing that the greatest gift I can give living today well and in that I believe that it will prepare the path for tomorrow.

Life Transferred
Since being here the last week has been the hardest I have been through unable to shove it under the rug or run away this death was something I could not ignore. Our lives can be over in a moment and in that I must seek the only thing that is unchanging. Grieving is never easy weather we know its coming or is in a case such as this, an unexpected loss. At the end of it all I have to say that my only resolve is that Adam lived well because he loved well. During my time here it has called me to examine life in new ways and the only thing I see is the only life worth living is the one we give away. Adam died in the practice of this principal and in that im challenged to look beyond my own needs to a world in great need.

I don’t know if I will ever come to terms with death because I don’t know if we ever look upon our loss without an ache in our heart of that which is lost. Today im sitting in the Source Café looking around, no Adam, no Moses and Irene will not be returning for some time. Talking to my friends you can see them moving forward though the ache remains. How sudden death brings so many questions especially when you look at the lives of these great men who served those around them. But in it all life marches on and so then will they.

While seeking to come to terms with all of this I looked up Adam’s blog which was under Jinja Outreach and thought I would share it with all of you.

My prayers still remain with Adam’s family and the staff working here in Jinja that have gone home during this time of grieving. Adam was buried on Wednesday and it seems that people from all over gathered together to say goodbye. Tomorrow (Saturday) they will be having a memorial service here for both of these men, its my prayer that this will bring comfort for those on this side who are still trying to process this great loss.

Written by Adam Langford

Article Index The Adam Report: November 3, 2006 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 1 of 5 Suffering: By Proximity or By Choice? Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it. - Mahatma Gandhi Uganda has problems. I am not sure of the politically correct term these days: Developing Nation, 3rd World Country, or Emerging State , so I will just say that Uganda is defiantly not one of the more advanced countries in the world. I don’t believe they are at the bottom of the list, but they are no where near the top. This was quickly evident to me when I ventured here 10 months ago from my home in America . From the time I stepped foot into Uganda I saw the effects and the causes of a country that appears to have gotten the short end of the stick in this new global community: misplaced populations, poor infrastructure, little education, few hospitals, corrupt government, and a culture that doesn’t quite fit with the ever expanding Western way of doing things. The longer I am here, the more problems I seem to find. Like any educated Westerner, I immediately start looking for solutions to all of these problems. I quickly learn though that quick solutions don’t often work, in fact they usually cause more problems. So, I search for sustainable answers, but all I have come up with so far are more questions. Uganda has big problems. For the past couple of months I have found myself engaged in a conversation with several different people from different walks of life, “How do we help Uganda?” Over the past several years the affluent parts of the world have also been engaged in that same conversation. Aid organizations, churches, non-profits, governments, the UN, Bill Gates, and even U2’s Bono have been vigorously working to put an end to poverty and all the problems that go with it in places like Uganda. I am very glad this collective group of intelligent, well funded people is focusing on the problems here, because for the life of me I can’t figure them out. Living in the midst of all these problems with no solutions is difficult. I am constantly faced with the immense suffering. Yesterday I had a church member plead with me for a job because as he said, “My family is dying Adam, you have to help me.” While this was a bit of a overdramatic plea to get an emotion response from me, it is really not that far from the truth. I didn’t have any work for him; he will have to suffer through it. I have endured quite a bit of suffering myself in the last couple of months due to the problems of Uganda. While Ugandan’s themselves are amused at my perceived problems, they are very real for me. Last month I had no electricity in my house for 26 straight days. It came back on day 27 only to go off again for another 3 days. For all of you who are romanticizing this simplified life by thinking how great it would be to read all of those books you’ve been meaning too next to the soft glow of lantern light, try taking freezing cold showers for a month; that should you bring you back to reality. During this time, while I was trying to figure out what the problem was, I uncovered that my landlord has been stealing electricity from me. This was topped off by four days of no water right at the end of my 30 day electricity fast, which was a nice break from the cold showers. I have been able to fix my relatively trite problems for the mean time, but because this place is what it is I am confident they will be back. Uganda has problems and I am suffering because of them. In September I visited a close by village with two visitors from America who were in town for a few days. Our time in Kyabirawa was shaping up to be a pretty normal day in the village. We took a tour of a garden, we greeted some of the neighbors, and we shared a meal. After we ate, our host Maanda Wilson told us that one of the elder church members had recently lost his youngest daughter and people were gathering for the burial. We agreed to go over and give our condolences to the family and view the body. Just as in America, it is customary to view the body of the deceased as part of the ritual of saying goodbye. In Uganda, they don’t have funeral homes that are able to present the body in a manor that reflects the living person. The 33 year old women that we saw looked dead. It was a disturbing site. Her older sister was holding back the sheet that covered her lifeless body. I asked her, “How did your sister die?” The older sister stared at me for a moment and then shook her head with a disgusted, frustrated look on her face. “Don’t you know?” she said in an exhausted gasp. I thought I had messed up. I didn’t think that question was inappropriate, but this lady was obviously disturbed. “She died of AIDS! Like everyone else around here, she died of AIDS.” Her voice cracked and a she started to tear up. I softly said “nga kitalo” which is a Lusoga word of lament that is solely used in the midst of death, it literally translates ‘oh no!’ I had nothing else to say. Uganda has problems and its people are suffering to the point of death. My illusions of solving the problems of this country have long ago left me. They have been replaced with the hope of a risen savior who understands what it means to suffer in this world. This world refuses to work on God’s terms and thus will always be filled with suffering. And because I live in this world, I am privy to that suffering rather I am living in America or Uganda. While I will never stop trying to eliminate the suffering in this world, the suffering in Uganda, the suffering in losing a younger sister to AIDs, or even the suffering in my own life, I do not believe that is all I should be doing. Solutions are wonderful. Cures are amazing. Answers are great. But in this broken world, I am beginning to believe we need more people who are willing to enter into the suffering of others whether they can help or not. I want to choose to suffering for the sake of others. I am not always sure how to do that or what it looks like, but most days I wake up and can’t think of anything else to do. Uganda has problems, I pray that God will solve them, but until He does I will also pray for the strength to suffer. Suffering cheerfully endured, ceases to be suffering and is transmuted into an ineffable joy. -- Mahatma Gandhi

Thanksgiving

So im way delayed in updates since Christmas is this week and im writing about Thanksgiving. I still thought that this was good though so I will share it anyhow. Sorry if their is any errors I hadnt gotten a chance to read it even since I wrote a rough draft!

Thanksgiving comes no matter what continent you find yourself on and how far from family and friends you may be. For those who live outside of American culture this day passes by like any other void of great meaning or purpose.

Being far from home I find my mind drifting off as I think of family and friends gathered around a beautiful table over flowing with a bounty of delicious food. My mind is caught up in this romantic dream of a Hollywood story when the reality is that this day too will pass weather I find myself falling asleep on the sofa after over stuffing as the football game plays on in the background, ahhh a wonderful picture of home! Instead I find myself chatting amongst new friends as many experience their first thanksgiving feast. All through out the world there seems to be a mixture of happiness and sorrow over the holidays, the reality of life follows us. Some of us have comfortable homes others may find themselves alone watching the lives of others flicker across the screen as they choke down their bland tv dinner they picked up the gas station in which they ended up paying way to much all together for frozen food. This year I find myself peering over to the other side of reality, finding gratitude for what sits in front of me, I miss my family and friends but looking around me I see that I am far from alone. Some were in the middle of it all maybe we can see humanity for what it is, a colorful mixture.

Thanksgiving week!

The agenda for the week find a turkey. Though I get to enjoy the avoidance of an over crowded supermarkets, digging through the freezer to find the proper bird I have to say that this seems like a small feat when faced with trying to find a turkey at all.

We set out to the task early this week making our menu and then revising it based on what truly would be possible taking in account that ingredients are limited along with the nature of a charcoal stove. Almost all of our food comes from the mainland which is a two hour boat ride. This might not seem like much but you have to account for large quantities of food needing transport to the docks along with travel time (four hours total). When ever we do food purchases for home it truly takes a full day therefore it is done once a week and menus on the island are shaped accordingly, of course the heat and lack of refrigeration limits the freshness of produce and the storing of meat. This being the case we are in search of a live bird from the island, none of us girls want the duty of traveling in a taxi and two hours on a boat with a live turkey. Divide and conquer is our strategy.

The week is busy we have been meeting with the head leadership on the base who are have just had there third child about two weeks ago. All has gone well so they are returning home to the islands and Shem has come home to try and prepare his quarters for his family. Mostly getting out all the critters and wiping out all the cob webs. Things get dirty quickly even if your home is unused.

It seems that when things are busy that unexpected things are bound to happen! The week before I had been staying in Jinja and had noticed I got some bug bits on my back and thinking they were nothing out of the ordinary and really not knowing were they came from I followed my usual rendition of Hydrocortisone cream and tried my best not to scratch. By Tuesday the bights had become red and turned into welts on my back that were visible even to others even when clothed quite painful too now really. Now thankfully we have been blessed with a nurse from the states on the island. I little alarmed I went to Karina who was able to check them out. She told me to wait one more day and for now to take some allergy meds. Following her instructions I waited till the next day only to see they were worse and even more painful. Unfortunately this meant it was time to go under the knife. Laying on my bed she numbed the wound and then made a tiny slice in my skin squeezing the wound to get out what ever was irritating when out came a tiny worm. She looked unsurprised not wanting to worry me she had held off for another day for the worm to increase in size thus making it easier to get out, four wounds four worms. These worms are from mango flies which can burrow into your clothes biting you and laying their eggs in you skin thus producing worms. The only way to kill them is to make sure all your clothes are ironed after being washed. The heat of the iron kills them off. What I can tell you is that when doing laundry this week every item of clothing got ironed down to the underwear, having something burrow in my back is one thing my butt is quite another. The worms are gone and my back broke out in a rash making things worse before they got better but at least im ridded of any pests that want to take up residence.

On the mend I wondered around Wednesday day still looking for a bird. It seems that everyone owning a turkey on the island is fatting them up to get a good price for Christmas which means they want to sell you a small bird for the price of a bird that would be properly fattened by Christmas. Others are unwilling to part with their turkeys saving them aside for their own families. We have put many out on the hunt and sometime after lunch those searching are assured that there is no turkey to be find and perhaps we should buy some goat or chickens. Saddened I still refuse to give up the dream of a turkey. Thankfully so when after dinner Papa O comes with good news one fattened turkey for thirty thousand shillings (around fifteen dollars) this is actually a good price and a rather large turkey too. Now comes the difficult question we have the bird who is going to kill it and how are we going to cook it.

Thursday morning comes and everyone at base spends the morning late in bed. Terrible storms have set out this week and we have spent most of the week in sweatshirts do to the chill in the air. We had thought that we could dig a pit outside and create a way to roast a turkey but with the overcast the weather won’t be clearing any time soon.

The rain lets up and we go to purchase the bird and Karina whose known on the base as the killer (this the nickname for a nurse) agrees to attempt to kill the bird. We set out to prepare the meal Karina with her bag of knives in hand and grab the bird. Taking out her Machete we find a large rock to put the bird on and Papa O holds it down. With out going into great detail lets just say that I wouldn’t say this bird went peacefully. My job was to help skin the bird which we decided was so much easier than plucking it. I would also be the head cook in the kitchen that day which is rather intimidating with charcoal grills. I have an idea that if we have enough pots we can create something similar to a nesco to roast the bird with out cutting it into pieces or having to boil it. Let me just say that anyone who hates the process of cleaning the bird has seen nothing in comparison to a fresh kill.

Ruthie and I worked all day in the kitchen with great success for our first education in African cooking. At the end of the day we were proud to say that we had accomplished creating ninety percent of the meal on our own. The menu roasted turkey with basil rosemary and thyme, garlic mashed potatoes, stuffing, homemade cornbread, gravy, and chai tea with milk. This was the most traditional American meal that I have had since my arrival.

We set up the dinning hut with tablecloths covered with fall leaves from home and set out the food. Serving our friends the feast Karina shared about the first Thanksgiving. In a full hut we all sat one by one going around and sharing our gratitude for family, friendship, provision, and that through the diversity in this room we all had a piece to offer one another and through that we are gathered, to share more than a meal but to share our lives.

Truly I can’t say that I didn’t miss home this year. Waking up to watch the Thanksgiving Day parade. Thinking of my family preparing their meals and gathering around the table. Falling asleep on the couch with football echoing in the background. Home can never be replaced some how in Africa I have found a greater appreciation for the family I love and miss at home and a thankfulness for the diversity that surrounded me for this day. To all of you at home I hope Thanksgiving has found you well this year and that as the days move forward that gratitude will remain through the overwhelming nature of the Christmas season.

Coming Full Circle
During my time here it seems that every day a new story unfolds, which I guess is what is only natural as you share life with a group of people.
Last year around this time I remember going through a difficult time, I called my friend Angie who is and has always been a trusted friend and great support. Getting to her house she made some tea and we sat on her porch overlooking the street and talking about life. Everyone has their own story of life the joys and sorrows all mixed together. It seems we are all wishing for the wounds of the past to mend. Even in the mending it seems difficult to not look upon the scars and not to remember the pain you once felt. Sitting on her porch that day holding the warm mug in hand my eyes filled with tears. I cried for the things lost and the question if the pains of the past will ever go away, as I spoke out things that have laid silent in me for years. There is relief in the breaking of silence as if the sunlight is hitting blind eyes for the first time and I am still straining to see. Freedom is a funny thing it seems that you always remember the details of when it came and the people who walked with you through it. The thing I remember most is that as I spoke of my brokenness and anger I saw Angie’s eyes filled with tears and anger rise at the injustice. Comfort comes with the compassion of a friend sharing these moments with you, my hope is only that I can be this for someone on their road to freedom, a listening ear, open heart and a warm cup of tea as we sit and talk watching the fall come in.
Tonight my heart aches as I return to my room. This evening I went with my friend Karina and Ruthie (two American girls that are staying on the islands) into the village visiting some people. Evening in the village is always full of energy. Families sitting outside their homes preparing their dinners. Music fills the air as children play in the small alleys between houses.
Walking into the village we meet up with Susan who is a girl finishing her last year of primary school. She moved to Lingira to go to school, many of the other islands don’t have schools or function below standards having only one or two teachers to cover the range of seven years. Most of the teachers on the other islands have limited educations themselves making it difficult for them to reach the standards of education that the school should be running at.
Susan was able to come and stay on the island when she was offered housing from a friend of the family. She lives with two other girls in a small house. All of the girls in this house are left to fend for themselves, none of them have parents living on the island so banded together they try to overcome the struggles and care for the needs of one another. Wanting to spend some time with these girls this evening so Susan came with us as we went about on our visits.
I find myself sitting with a man who is sick in his final stages of AIDS. He loves music so we sat in his home singing with him. There is very little you can offer in these times music seems not enough and yet it is all we have to give, unable to fix this disease that is ravaging his body. Malaria is taking over and seems to be winning this fight I watch his mother care for him she states he is only taking liquids now, tomorrow we will go to the hospital.
Next we stop and sit in a small mud hut women who is also sick with AIDS and is too weak to work. We sit and talk over the soft glow of the lamp that offers little light to her room. The house looks like that of an abandon work shop, a storage room for odds and ends that you are sure will come in handy in the future. We sit and talk of her day to day life. She has been sick for some time thinking that death was knocking at her door. Unable to afford food or meds she laid in bed alone praying for God to be near. Provision comes by the care and feeding of those in the village and through the care of those around her she is better. The simplicity of this women’s life, and her gratitude astounds me that one can find gratitude in a bowl of rice and see it as a great provision, its hard not to find conviction in my ungratefulness.
Leaving her home we walk with Susan to her house under the dim lighting of flashlight I follow her. Arriving at Susan’s home we sit with her and Jackie. Jackie sits reading her studying her books though she has been chased from school unable to meet her school fees. Jackie greets us her eyes darting to the floor. Karina says she had wanted to come and visit. The girls had been attacked in her their home the night before. The man had come after Jackie. This was the second time this man had broke into their home and come after Jackie. For the second time she was able to fight him off this time only with the help of a women who had needed a place to stay and was sleeping in the other room. Hearing the commotion she came to Jackie’s aid. The man was taken to jail as Jackie filed a report, after all the forms had been filed then came the demanding of fees. Here it is the victims job to pay for the guards, food for the prisoner, and transportation to the mainland jail. Without these fees being paid the man would be released in the next day or two. Criminals like this seek vengeance for the shame that was brought upon their name, not only is their fear that this man will come and take what has been denied him twice but her life could be the great sacrifice for bringing on such suffering. Jackie sits beside me quietly. There has been no money for this girl to even eat, and now she would have to pay to feed the mouth of her attacker to ensure her safety. Here in her innocence she stood being chased from school, without food and a criminal will receive better treatment than the innocent. This is the injustice of a corrupt government. I cry out for justice.
Trying not cry I sit on beside her I hold it all in swallowing hard so trying to hold my voice steady.
That evening I remember sitting on Angie’s porch. My heart had been so filled with wounds of the past, justice that had never come and truly I had come to terms now that it never will but it was the wound on my soul that demanded vengeance. The next day Angie told me that she had thought of me all that night and as she was driving to work she was hit with this passage and didn’t remember the exact words. As she read it she felt it was for me, this is what it said….

The wilderness and the desert will be glad,
And the Arabah will rejoice and blossom;
Like the crocus it will blossom profusely
And rejoice with the rejoicing and shout of joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it
The majesty of our God.
Encourage the exhausted and strengthen the feeble.
Say to those with anxious heart, take courage, fear not.
Behold, your God will come with vengeance;
The recompense of God will come, But He will save you.
Then the eyes of the blind will be opened and the ears of the deaf will be unstopped.
Then the lame will leap like the deer, and the tongue of the mute will shout for joy.
For waters will break forth in the wilderness and streams in the Arabah.
The scorched land will become a pool and the thirsty ground springs of water;
In the haunt of jackals, its resting place,
Grass becomes reeds and rushes.

Sitting with Jackie that night I was remembered of the comfort this brought me. That my dry heart would rejoice again, that strength would come to my weary body and in that I could have courage. Vengeance may have not come in the form of what we as humans see is justice but God was just in that my heart would not be stolen to. For sure there has been springs of water in this dry land.
I pray not only for healing to come for Jackie but that true justice will prevail.
In talking to a friend from home I told her the story about this girl and how so many things would be relieved if she had a sponsor for school. It seems like Jackie might have found that sponsor. Jackie will be able to return to school in January and she and Susan both will be able to move to the student hostiles which are secure, all students there are provided with three meals a day. It seems that truly the wilderness and desserts will be glad.
This is merely a glimpse of the stories I hear daily. In that I am trying to find hope in that which is bigger than myself. Sometimes I find myself in wonder surely this people is not forgotten. I don’t think I will ever be able to solve the mysteries of life, why bad things happen to good people, why the criminal goes free while the victim suffers, or why with watchful eyes we watch those we love in pain but I don’t know if we were meant to understand such things. My hope is that through all of life’s journey that I will come to see that there is both joy and peace to be found.

The Suffering Heart
My last update was placed on this site by Amanda I had intending on writing this journal entire too but there was so many problems with the computers that day that both of these are quite delayed!
This journal writing is from October 31, 2006
Today was a bad day. It seemed that everything that I put my hand to ended up messing up. Spending the day in Jinja from the computers to the market. To top it all off I found out that my visa was denied which leads to me crossing the border to renew it every three months. Quite an inconvenience and more of my budget that was unaccounted for. I’m ready to go back to the island. My friend Robert connected with me in the afternoon and I’m so thankful to not spend the rest of the afternoon alone. Robert is sick though and my needing to run all over town still is not good for his already tired body. He has typhoid. Everyone at home is sick which leads for a sort of sadness that hovers over the island. Illness here is not like the common flu, you never know the outcome and the common cold is usually not found but is replaced by the reality of something potentially serious. Poor Robert not only deals with my illness but my sadness and disappointment of a really bad day. Just when I thought the day couldn’t get worse Robert's phone rings, its Joyce she is crying, her Aunt passed today, a single mother of five kids.
Joyce has been my closest friend during my time here on the islands. She teaches history at the secondary school. The school has only been open for the year and is the primary reason she has moved to the island. She had heard of the position through Robert. Robert has come to know their family well over the years first befriending her sister. Joyce's sister passed two years ago unexpectantly. Last year her Grandfather died and now this. Joyce has already been worried as her younger sister has been ill now for some months. Upon my return home I drop my things and go to check on Joyce. Her room is filled with people coming to comfort her. Joyce holds a mask on her face. I’m fine she reply’s as I ask her how she is... but really how are you she says... Some moments later she excuses her self. I can hear Joyce crying outside her home, the kind of tears that only can come from your belly when you are unsure that the pain will ever leave.
In the past Joyce has been known to go into hyperventilating, crying with her heart being so overwhelmed. Concerned for her state and the fact that she gets so upset that her breathing becomes strained I tell Joyce I will stay with her and go home to prepare for a night with my friend who needs me!
Walking with pillow in hand I pray that God be with me. In moments like these it’s hard to know what to do. Joyces food remains untouched (Robert says he heard she hasn’t eaten all day). I grab the basin and water for her hands. She tries to refuse me but with a little persistence she washes her hands and takes the meal I hand her.
This small mud hut with a tin roof. Her single bed pushed against the wall with a mattress behind it for Petra, a neighbor girl whose Mothers home is too small for al of her children. Joyce gladly shares her home with this young girl at night. I help her settle Petra in on the floor when we are greeted by Justine with radio in hand. (Justine is a beautiful heavy set African she is much older than us and speaks very little English.) She too has decided to stay with Joyce. Another mattress is squeezed on the floor Petra balled up on the small mat in the corner. I am to share Joyce’s bed with her.
The lamp is left on dimly and Justine tries to tune her radio in I have to sleep with noise she says. She finally settles on a Ugandan preacher who speaks with such soul and charisma that it shakes the speakers filling the room with static. I have never cared much for radio evangelists and though I didn’t understand a word this man was saying I think it is safe to say that I didn’t enjoy this man much either. After the radio is set Justine informs Joyce that she sleeps in the nude as she undresses. Joyce laughs and relays the message, I laugh to not really all that surprised by the freedom most Africans possess not being the least bit self conscious. I lay in bed and Joyce grabs my hand with tears she starts praying a prayer of thanksgiving for my friendship, its hard to receive as I know she needs nothing but just what I am offering. After she is done I pray for her, that God would give her peace for what I cannot fix. That he stand beside her and her family in their loss and watch over her as she travels tomorrow. I say good night as I finish and Justine’s naked body sits up, fully confident she kneels and prays for Joyce the way a mother prays for her child. I have to laugh to myself; even in the sadness of this grief watching a large African woman pray in the nude is still somewhat humorous.
Joyce spent the night fairly sleepless. She feels God has abandoned her and her family. She wonders at how fair a God is to continue year after year to see her family suffer. I have no answer for these things, as they are life’s mystery. All I can do is pray for Joyce that somehow through it all the God of peace would find her and comfort what I cannot begin to unfold. I pray for a miracle to come and heal her sister knowing that her lose would be more than they could take. My heart is saddened as I see Joyce go on the boat. I will never understand why we were created to love only to be open to such lose in return, and yet again it is truly the only thing worth living for.
Note: any responses given on this site are great but some of you I have no email addresses for! My email address is jessicaadlora@yahoo.com if you want to be added to my email list! Thanks!

The Suffering Heart
My last update was placed on this site by Amanda I had intending on writing this jornal entrie too but there was so many problems with the computers that day that both of these are quite delayed!
This jornal writing is from October 31, 2006
Today was a bad day. It seemed that everything that I put my hand to ended up messing up. Spending the day in Jinja from the computers to the market. To top it all off I found out that my visa was denied which leads to me crossing the border to renew it every three monthes. Quite an inconvenience and more of my budget that was unaccounted for. Im ready to go back to the island. My friend Robert connected with me in the afternoon and im so thankful to not spend the rest of the afternoon alone. Robert is sick though and my needing to run all over town still is not good for his already tired body. He has typoid. Everyone at home is sick which leads for a sort of sadness that hovers over the island. Illness here is not like the common flu, you never know the outcome and the common cold is usually not found but is replaced by the reality of something potentially serious. Poor Robert not only deals with my illness but my sadness and disapointmentment of a really bad day. Just when I thought the day couldnt get worse Robert's phone rings, its Joyce she is crying, her Aunt passed today, a single mother of five kids.
Joyce has been my closest friend during my time here on the islands. She teaches history at the secondary school. The school has only been open for the year and is the primary reason she has moved to the island. She had heard of the position through Robert. Robert has come to know there family well over the years first befriending her sister. Joyce's sister passed two years ago unexpectantly. Last year her Grandfather died and now this. Joyce has already been worried as her younger sister has been ill now for some months. Upon my return home I drop my things and go to check on Joyce. Her room is filled with people coming to comfort her. Joyce holds a mask on her face. Im fine she replys as I ask her how she is... but really how are you she says... Some moments later she excuses her self. I can hear Joyce crying outside her home, the kind of tears that only can come from your belly when you are unsure that the pain will ever leave.
In the past Joyce has been known to go into hyperventalating, crying with her heart being so overwelmed. Concerned for her state and the fact that she gets so upset that her breathing becomes strained I tell Joyce I will stay with her and go home to prepair for a night with my friend who needs me!
Walking with pillow in hand I pray that God be with me. In moments like these its hard to know what to do. Joyces food remains untouched (Robert says he heard she hasnt eaten all day). I grab the basin and water for her hands. She tries to refuse me but with a little persistance she washes her hands and takes the meal I hand her.
This small mud hut with a tin roof. Her single bed pushed against the wall with a matress behind it for Petra, a neighbor girl whose Mothers home is too small for al of her children. Joyce gladly shares her home with this young girl at night. I help her settle Petra in on the floor when we are greated by Justine with radio in hand. (Justine is a beautiful heavy set african she is much older than us and speaks very little english.) She too has decided to stay with Joyce. Another matress is squezed on the floor Petra balled up on the small mat in the corner. I am to share Joyces bed with her.
The lamp isenendosi convinto dell'utilità della missione in Iraq, ha fatto sapere di aver accolto le dimissioni del segretario alla difesa e ha annunciato che al posto di rumsfeld sarà presto nominato robert gates, ex capo della cia dal '91 al '93, già alle dipendenze di sei presidenti americani sia democratici che repubblicani (compreso il padre di bush), attuale direttore di un'importante università del texas." dunque, non so voi, ma io fra i rettori universitari conosco diciamo... 7... forse... una buona decina di massoni. ma in america la massoneria non esiste. nossignori, triangolo e compasso sono solo elementi decorativi delle banconote, previsti da ralph lauren. quindi, fidiamoci del nuovo inquilino del pentagono: anche se i militari volevano rumsfeld, anche se i cowboys resteranno in iraq a finire il lavoro, e sono in guerra, sono in guerra con troppa gente, oramai. intanto, il petrolio costa sempre più caro, di anna e della cecenia non si parla più, la finanziaria è una barzelletta da tremila spulciatine, per non perdere due voti al senato allarghiamo i termini per la presentazione dei documenti per il rimborso elettorale a due senatori in quota alla maggioranza, la regione campania ha una floridissima rete di ambasciate all'estero e a napoli non accade più nulla, o quasi. da bambina, quando volevo far vedere che sapevo fare le pulizie, infilavo tutto sotto al tappeto. credo sia uno degli sport preferiti dall'uomo.
B9 caro, di anna e della cecenia non si parla più, la finanziaria è una barzelletta da tremila spulciatine, per non perdere due voti al senato allarghiamo i termini per la presentazione dei documenti per il rimborso elettorale a due senatori in quota alla maggioranza, la regione campania ha una floridissima rete di ambasciate all'estero e a napoli non accade più nulla, o quasi. da bambina, quando volevo far vedere che sapevo fare le pulizie, infilavo tutto sotto al tappeto. credo sia uno degli sport preferiti dall'uomo.

Like no other Wedding I have seen!
The trip to Torrio is a long bumpy road. I think my butt spent more time in the air then it did on the seat. That’s kind of the way of Uganda roads but I am told that the roads here are nice in comparison to Kenya. I don’t want to know! There was about twenty of us total that jumped into the van to go for the two-hour drive. As you go through part of the journey you can see baboons that come right up to the side of the road unafraid of all the cars passing by. We decided to slow down to see if we could get some snaps. Amanda tried to woo them closer to the vehicle to get a better shot. She grabbed some biscuits out of her purse and before you knew it the baboon was ready to jump through the window to get the goodies. Needless to say Amanda screamed and threw the treats out the window and we sped off as to avoid the van being overtaken by the whole clan of baboons. Defiantly some entertainment that you would never capture at the local zoo.
We got to Torrio at 11:30am for a 12:00pm wedding which soon after was pushed back to 2:00pm, which was still enough time to make the wedding and get back to town. Most of the people in the van were from the islands and we were taking a boat back late that night. Besides that our taxi driver needed to be back by a certain time and really wanted to leave by. So we waited and went to get lunch knowing the we might not make it to enough of the reception to eat, African culture makes a ceremony out of all events and it seems to draw things out.
So 2:00 rolls around and still no signs of the wedding starting, we headed over to the church and waited but their were no signs of the bride or groom. We continue waiting patiently wondering what is going on. Now let me say it is not uncommon for things to run behind in this country, its known as “Africa Time” but for a wedding to delay this much seemed to even have the locals concerned. 4:00pm and still no one has shown and we have to pile back into the taxi and return home. Finally one of them men we were with received a text from Joy (the bride) saying that she didn’t know what was going on but her Father was demanding three hundred million shillings which is the equivalent of about $1300.00 in addition to the cattle given for her payment before he would give his blessing. So here was Joy, the day of her wedding, waiting for the blessing of her Father so she could wed and instead here was her husband running around town trying to pay off Joy’s Father for the price of his bride.
Some time around 7:00pm long after we had gone home along with many of the other guests David and Joy wed and followed it up with a reception. When later asking Joy if she was angry she said no I had faith that God would surly not let my wedding fail. It seemed amazing to me that she had remained so calm and that they still honored the irrational desire of her Father who cared more for the love of money than the happiness and care of his daughter.
Upon Joy’s arrival back to the islands this week her husband David came with and is able to stay for the next to weeks. The island put together a grand celebration and everyone came. All the children sang and performed and many speeches were afforded in congrats to the couple. I sat near the couple as they smiled happily and was grateful that even though there wedding wasn’t as they expected, this could not be stolen. David and Joy now wonder why they didn’t have their wedding on the island in the first place having been so overwhelmed by the love and care of the people on the island.
Congratulations David and Joy! May you find comfort and strength in each other, and may love remain through all the days of your lives together and happiness be written upon the doorframe of your home!

The African Marriage

Growing up I seemed to always have had this romantic streak in me. Maybe it was from watching my grandparents whom still after fifty years of marriage had this amazing chemistry that was undeniable to everyone around them. Needless to say seeing that such intimacy and affection can be had between two people has given me hope, that true unconditional love is out there if your patient enough to look for it and selfless enough for it to take root. This is not so much that I wish for the fairy tail but rather a desire for something pure, concentrated enough to sustain a lifetime through all of its ups and downs.

One might be asking what this has to do with Africa…

Well this weekend I will be going to my first wedding in Africa. Weddings in Africa are a little different many times being that they have already been married for some time and the ceremony is just a celebration of that union. Like in any country weddings are expensive and its no different here. Couples are expected to invite the whole village along with family and friends. Weddings here are known for their great food and would be sorely underrated if it fails to be the best in quality. It would not be unlikely for someone to complain publicly at an event if they were dissatisfied with the food. Most weddings have many different options for that reason which leaves little room for complaint.

Joy and her husband have been married for some three or four years now and have two children. Joy is a teacher on the island, were she lives with her two kids. Her husband lives and works in the village on the other side of the country were they have a home. Though this idea might seem strange it is quite common here in Africa.

One of my first weeks here I was sitting on the veranda with two of the men that live at the YWAM base Samson (whose a pastor on the island), and John (who works in our small medical clinic on the base). Not knowing I asked Samson if he was married, when he said yes it seemed only natural to ask were they were having not seen them. He said that his wife and three children live in their home on a different island. So I thought obviously he must make regular trips home, not the case. Samson goes home maybe every six to eight weeks to see his family for three or four days before he is needing to head back to work. Later someone told me that his youngest child cried when he came and was unwilling to go near him. John told me in a later conversation that he hoped to get married in the next few years. He said that his wife and children would live with his mother in a small village in western Uganda while he remained working on the island. He said that there was no way that he could afford to provide for his family if they lived on the island. Having things shipped in from the mainland makes the cost of living more expensive and without having his own land he wouldn’t be able to have a garden to help reduce the cost of living in any way.

Many feel this life works for them, some feel it is the only way with how difficult it can be to find work, others are unwilling to split there family feeling they could not bear to be separated from one another. The separated family sure has sure taken its toll though not only with time but the possibility of marital unfaithfulness, which is not uncommon among many of these couples. This has also played a part in the spreading of AIDS in Africa were it would not be ok to question your spouse and be even more offensive to ask them to use a condom if there was any question in your mind.

Couples that do live together are hard to distinguish too. The only time you are likely to see a couple together is if you visit their home were they still seem to be busy doing separate things. You rarely see a couple together in public unless they are traveling somewhere together. If couples are seen together you never see them show any display of affection towards each other. My friend Henry said it is only now becoming common for couples to kiss in private. He said that he knew his parents had never kissed and was unlikely that most older married couples have ever kissed. Its only amongst the younger generations in the bigger towns and cities that such affections are more common to the influence of western culture and entertainment. My guess is the mass of the community is still very private about it because I have yet to see a couple holding hands let alone kissing publicly.

As you can see this all seems to lead for a hot romance for a typical African couple. Your lucky if you get to kiss your husband, and even luckier if you get to share a bed with them for more than a forth of the year.

Needless to say this wedding should be interesting, I will have to get back to you on what happens supposing that they wont say you may kiss the bride. I think the attendees would be in shock with the display of such blatant affection.

Random Information
Amanda and I were laughing this week as I debated wether we had enough money to make it to the mainland if our money hadnt arrived at the bank yet. We were talking over money knowing that we were to the end of our funds and if we needed to come back to the mainland and go to the bank it would be tight. Figuring out how we could make things work had to make you laugh when we relized that really we were fifty cents short of what we needed. You thought having five bucks in your pocket was broke.
Ok so every culture has its corks, here are some things that have been funny since being here in Uganda!
Best come on line was received on the docks while waiting to catch a ride back to the island. This vendor comes over and says hello My Size you come be with me. Though its nice to be at least the right size in somebodies eyes I am not so sure thats the best way to win a girls heart.
When ever you are dressed nicely here the responce is you look smart. This seems to be the british english coming through. The first time I had heard this I thought of being smart was like when some one describes you as a smart or nice girl when some one sees you as nothing great to look at. Here being smart is of no insult it is actually to say you are beautifull or look nice. To say one is smart would be that they are sharp!
For one to be called skinny is to say you dont look well, they question if you have money or are in poor condition.
To be fat is healthy, a sign of wealth and prosperity.
Another funny conversation I had was about weddings. Here a bride is purchased by livestock. The value of goats, chickens, ect you are worth is do to your family position, and the beauty of the bride to be. The man is more responsiable for funding the wedding also. It is also not uncommon to send letters to those in the community to contribute too. I bet the family of the bride all wish that they were a little more African.

Thats all for this week no real new happenings as I have spent most of this week sick in bed!
Love to you all on the home front!

AIDS education for the island people
This past week I sat in a three day seminar concerning AIDS counseling for the people of the Lingira Island were I was staying. I hadn't been planning on going until the last minute but was glad to have the opportunity to sit in on the meetings.
Meetings like this can be difficult for me because of the translation. It seems that the majority of people who speak english well are around my age or younger. So needless to say in a teaching such as this it is best to make it available to all and speak the local language. In almost all meetings they will have a translator. It actually is good for so many people because of the difference in language between the regions of even Uganda you find that english is really a common tongue for so many people.
For the AIDS meeting I had my own personal translator, my friend Henry. It is always good to have someone you know translate for you because you are more familiar with their accent, and much easier to offer a mint.
The premise of the conference was to offer education on AIDS awareness, testing availabilities, and training for counseling. It is so necessary here and good to see how they teach things. Many at the meeting were still unaware of the causes and preventions. Now this was a little sad to think about because Uganda was the first to embrace AIDS education and has been remained the leader in education and numbers reflect that since the start of such programming numbers have decreased. With training for counseling available in a program like this people are taught the importance of counseling people through the needs of testing. They also covered how to counsel someone through the process of accepting they are HIV positive. Going through this they are hoping to see less orphans having no were to go and losing the things left to them from their parents. The only support available really is the community. The people here need to be built up to know the steps of the process especially for those infected by the virus. With a community changed it is likely that infected people can still live a long healthy life. Meds were covered, diet, cleansing, emotional counsel, and how to prepare for the future.
The man who lead the conference was a man named Gavan, he has been infected since 1992 and completely volunteers his time to this organization. Here in Africa when some one is infected it seems that they give up on life. Gavan was able to speak from experience that you need to find purpose and that life is full of meaning regardless of this disease. This man really does practice this. Besides this program he is a teacher and has started an orphanage were he cares for children that are sick with AIDS. There the children are given a home, loved cared for, and given an education. It challenged me, this man who was delivered such a blow moving forward in life with such conviction. If we all carried that sense of purpose I wonder what the world would look like.
Education for AIDS is different here. I think this is the first meeting that I have sat in for instance that they didn't go over all the different means of prevention. When asking Henry about it he stated that those things were not practiced or were so rare that they are not covered. All I can say is that it was an awakening to what a sexual society we live in. It seems like a whole new world in all its differences.
My only hope is that people here will begin to not fear so much. Those who are infected would not hide themselves away to avoid rejection and shame from the community, family, and friends. People are scared, with education I hope that fear will be reduced and that they can find support from the community around them, they so desperately need it.
That's all from the home front. Keep me posted on the happenings of life in Madison.