Out of Africa

 

 

We are now in our hometown of Charleston, SC, after having spent 6 wonderful weeks in Uganda. I arrived in Africa on May 28, crying because I was so happy to see our children, and I departed Uganda on July 17, crying as we said our good byes to so many that we had come to love, during our brief time there.

 

Our dear, hardworking neighbor, Constance, and her 7 grandchildren, all came to say farewell. The faces of these little children are forever etched in my mind.

Walter, the 6 year old, became a regular fixture at our house, on many afternoons.

Walter would bring fresh mangoes or passion fruit that he harvested from the trees in his yard, knowing that I always had a few bananas or smiley face stickers for him in return.

 

Many times Walter and I would sit on the front steps of our house, and I would read stories from a children’s bible to him. He is learning English but is still limited in his vocabulary. On days that he would pop by while I was busy in the kitchen, I would give him paper and a package of 4 crayons, to draw pictures for me. This would keep him truly busy for an hour. He drew pictures of the pigs and chickens he helped to tend, and was very pleased when I posted the drawings on my refrigerator.

 

Children in Africa really do ‘make their own fun’.  On one occasion, 9 year old Muga, (Walter’s cousin) came to visit. He was pushing a stick that was about 3 feet in length and had a small plastic lid attached to the bottom of the stick, with a nail. The nail acted as an axle, and as Muga pushed it the lid would roll forward like a wheel. I asked him what he was pushing and he told me,

“It’s my bicycle.”

 

Another time Walter was walking through our yard pulling something behind him that looked like a toy truck with an attached cart. As I looked at it closely, it was a truck and a cart that he had made out of 2 quart size juice cartons with plastic water bottle caps for wheels. It was the cutest thing ever!

 

Three year old, Massias, who lived on the other side of our house, could always be heard in the morning as he ran around the yard making sounds like he was riding a boda boda (motorbike).  He had some imagination as he tore through the yard!

 

The sweet faces of the 30 women who gather to learn English are faces that I will not soon forget. I was invited to visit their class, and then later had them over for tea. They really appreciated being invited into a home where we could sit and visit. They sang praise songs and said lovely prayers for both John and myself. These are women who have a strong faith and are the leaders in their community. As a keepsake reminder of the day, I gave them crosses that I brought with me made by the children from Nashotah House Seminary.

 

And now, as I sit here in my air conditioned living room, in a comfy chair  my mind wanders back to the reality of the basic living conditions of the people in Uganda. (Looking back, even the “close encounters” I had with a cow and chickens at church don’t seem nearly as scary as they once did!) I am touched by how simple the lives of Ugandans are and yet how contented they seem to be.  It is so refreshing to see how joyful they seem,  visiting their neighbors, and how they graciously and sincerely extended hospitality to John and me, (these 2 muzugus), by saying to us again and again, “Thank you for coming. You are most welcome.”

 

They are a people who love the Lord and love to sing songs of praise. They worship with all of their might and are not self-conscious about greeting one another, routinely saying,

“Praise the Lord”.

 

It has been a summer that I shall never forget, and one that I know has made a lasting impression on me.

 

Recently I was talking to Newman, my dear son-in-law, about how I keep picturing, in my mind, the faces of these lovely, kind, soft-spoken people, and about how much I miss them. He summed it up best when he said to me, “You can leave Africa, but Africa will never leave you.” This is so true.

 

To all of our friends and family who have prayed for us and supported us during this amazing opportunity – please know that we have felt the prayers. They sustained us and spurred us on, and to you I sincerely say thank you and God bless you.

 

I am so thankful to the Rev. Francis Kajura, Vicar of St. Matthews Cathedral, and to Bishop George William Kasangaki, bishop of the Masindi-Kitara Diocese, for opening the way for me to be mentored and loved by the Christians whom they shepherd. It will truly make a difference in the way I minister to those God places in my path, in the years to come.

 

God’s Peace,

Patti   

 

From John:

The hope for Uganda’s future is the same as the hope for the future of the world. This hope is life for all,  motivated and empowered by Jesus Christ. This is the only motivation which will cause leaders to think about their people before thinking of themselves. It is the only motivation that will seek justice in a ruling culture that historically has sought its own self interest.

 

The majority of the people in the Masindi-Kitara Diocese are open to and hungry for a deeper understanding of God’s Word. We witnessed a changed attitude marked by new commitment as people gained new insights on truths about how God would have them live. In the 7 Sundays that we worshipped with them, we saw many come to the altar rail to commit their lives to Christ, to give testimony to changed hearts, to make right their marital relationships.

 

We are so very blessed to have been inserted into a place where God has already been blessing the efforts of dedicated servants who have labored sacrificially, for so long, in such loving and unwavering ways. The Teaching Parish Practicum that I went to Masindi to complete has exceeded my hopes and expectation,s and I pray has further formed me in preparation for whatever ministry God calls me to.

 

As Patti said, we are indeed so very grateful for your prayers and support.

 

Mukama Siimwe! Mukama akuhe Omugisa.  Praise the Lord! May God Bless you.

 

 

Walter's Train

 

 

 

English Class in the Guest House for tea

Cooking in Uganda

Hello Everyone!

Because a large portion of the day is spent preparing dinner, I thought I’d write a little bit about how it is done and what foods are readily available.

 

Each week Trish and I make a trip to the market to shop for the week. The market is located in the middle of town and all of the booths are outside. Some of the vendors have a covering overhead of tin or an umbrella, and some are spread out on the ground on a large tarp.

Everything imaginable is found there such as transistor radios, shoes, recycled clothing, plastic dishes, mugs, towels and hats.

As you proceed toward the rear of the market (and follow your nose), you will find fresh fish, sides of beef or goat hanging from hooks, live chickens, fresh eggs, dried beans, rice, loaves of bread, tomatoes, eggplant, carrots, onions, cabbage, potatoes, bananas, plantains (matoke), mangoes, papayas, pineapples, sugar cane, lemons, avocados, and cucumbers. It truly is a sensory overload!

 

Trish has a few favorite vendors that she has been buying from and has introduced me to them. One of the vendors is an elderly gentleman that always greets us with a bright smile. After making our usual purchase of carrots, bananas or lemons - he usually gives us a complimentary mango.

Our next stop is from a tall soft-spoken man who always has nice tomatoes, onions and potatoes. We tell him if we want a ½  or a full kilo, which he weighs on a scale that is counter balanced by weights.

Our next stop is usually for fresh eggs.  Sometimes when we approach the vendor we find him napping, but he lifts his head as soon as he hears us say the word “eggs”. They are sold individually and put very carefully into small clear plastic bags which we hold delicately for the trip home.

When you reach home, you can’t just put the produce away in the fridge like you would if you just returned from the Piggly Wiggly. There is a process for each item to ensure that it is properly cleaned. If you want to be able to eat a vegetable raw, like a sliced tomato or cucumber, it needs to soak in a large bowl of bleach water for a few minutes to clean the skin. If you are going to cook the vegetable, a good rinse and a spray of bleach water is sufficient. The eggs too have to be rinsed because they often come with feathers and other unidentified matter stuck to the outside….you know they’re fresh. So after the process, we are ready to cook for the week and have only spent about $12 total. Unless we buy meat from Kampala after a trip down for work, or if we go to a restaurant in town, most of our meals our vegetarian. Soup, stir fry, beans and rice, avocado and tomato salad, and pasta are typical meals. Dairy products are a treat. We will bring cheese and yogurt sometimes from Kampala and ration it out as long as we can. Another key element to a successful meal in Masindi is making sure you have most of your prep work done before the sun goes down at 7pm in case you don’t have power that evening. It’s easy to cut your fingers if you are chopping vegetables by headlamp or candlelight. Also, you want to make sure you don’t overbuy for the week or have too many leftovers because you can’t rely on your fridge to preserve food for long.

            Should you decide to go out for supper and take a night off from cooking, there are 3 places which we frequent. One is Masindi Hotel, which is a quaint colonial hotel which offers a nice atmosphere, delicious Indian and Chinese dishes, as well as local food options. The second is another hotel owned by a British ex-pat and it has a farily extensive menu with Indian, local, and American dishes. You can have goat, lentils, hamburgers, club sandwiches, fish and chips, chicken curry, etc… The third is owned by the same ex-pat and it’s more of a local place, although it’s called Travelers. They have really good fajitas.

            If you want something on the run, you can pick up street food. There is always a slight risk in doing this, but if all goes well, you can enjoy a delicious snack. Typical street food options are Chapatis (fried flat bread), Rolex (flat omelet rolled up into a Chapati), grilled ear of maize (enjoyed if you have strong teeth), and meat on a stick (usually goat???).

            We have enjoyed many local meals when invited to dine with friends. You can always count on a very similar menu each time. These items consist of, matoke (steamed plantains cooked in banana leaves), cassava (boiled root with little to no flavor), millet “bread” (sticky dough made from millet flour), dodo (dark leafy greens), meat stew (goat, beef, or chicken), rice, beans, G-nut sauce (thin purple peanut sauce), cabbage, and sometimes whole fish. Most enjoy this meal without using any utensils. They use the sticky matoke or millet bread to soak up the rest. If you are invited to breakfast, you will most likely be served thick slices of bread with a thin smear of butter, boiled eggs, fresh bananas or mangos, and large mugs of tea that are 80% hot fresh milk a few large scoops of sugar, and a little tea. All of these meals are prepared with a lot of love and hard work. They have to hand gather fire wood or buy charcoal to heat their pots to cook everything. They cook out in the yard, under a tin shed, or in a separate cooking room. It takes hours of preparation and they find a lot of joy in hosting guests. It is said that a family is blessed if they host visitors, so we try to always accept their invitations.

            Needless to say, we are not going hungry here. Everything we eat is extremely fresh and almost nothing is processed. Below are some pictures of the market and a local “grocery store”. Chow!

Consecrated Elements, Healing Prayer, Dogs and Chickens in Mortal Combat

I am preaching in the village church of Miirya tomorrow.  Part of the program set up by Rev. Francis (my Dear Brother and fabulous mentor) has us going on Thursdays and Fridays, for pastoral visits, to the village area where I will be preaching on Sunday. There are many delightful elements to these visits, many very interesting elements, some humorous, and some just downright intimidating.  

Yesterday we arrived at the village church to meet the Lay Leader in charge so that he could go with us and direct us to the homes of elderly Christians who are not able to get to church. The Lay Leaders are trained by pastors to function in planted churches as worship leaders until ordained pastors can be placed in them.  

As we went to our first stop we turned off of the red dirt road onto a path which was straddled by the car. I could tell by the window high grass on each side that it had been a while since a vehicle had passed this way. We came to a clearing which held several mud hut dwellings (one of brick), 3 small boys, a couple of older children, a middle aged man and woman, various chickens, and two small and undernourished dogs of undeterminable breed.  

All properties containing homes here are completely cleared of grass around and between the dwellings. This leaves a yard of hard packed red dirt which is swept daily of leaves and any foreign matter. 

We are expected by this family, and the couple comes up to us, with smiles and extended hands. This mother’s name is Ruth. Francis and I are both wearing clergy shirts and collars, mine being a seminary collar. It is customary for women and children to greet clergy by taking his hand and dropping down to one knee in respect. Children in school also greet their teachers this way.  I have tried to prevent them from doing this for me, but it is only makes for an awkward moment. So now as Ruth bends her knee to greet me I accept it and am humbled by it. 

I have greeted the 3 small boys who are covered with a film of the light colored dirt they have been playing in all day. I have taken their picture with my phone camera and shown it to them. They continue to stare at me, though now they are smiling. They are young enough and rural enough that I may be the first “Muzungu” they have seen.  

 

It is the woman’s mother who is the focus of our visit, and when she is made aware of our presence she walks to us with the aid of a stick, and bows at the waist to greet us, though I can tell she too would prefer kneel in reverence to Him whom we represent. Her name is Serena. 

We are ushered into the small brick dwelling containing an entry room and two smaller rooms to the side and back which are for sleeping. The floor is dirt and I look up to see the underside of a tin roof. There are 2 chairs side by side against the end wall with a small table in front of them, and a 3rd chair against the front wall. Francis and I sit in the 2 chairs and he drapes the table with a small “altar linen” embroidered with a cross. On this he places the chalice and patent which will contain the elements for the Eucharist. Serena sits on the floor as do the mother and father of the children.  

Francis begins singing a hymn, in Runyoro, as he opens his hymn book so that I can join with them. I am the only one needing this as the others have it written already on their hearts and minds. He goes through the service in the native language and as he raises the wafers and wine to bless them I know the meaning of the words he says even though I do not recognize them 

Other than the very few times I have brought communion to my own elderly parents or have taken it to residents of a retirement home, I have made very few pastoral visits like this. If any who read this have the opportunity to bring the Eucharist to those who otherwise would not receive it, let me encourage you to get beyond what ever might hinder you, and be the vessel of God’s Grace that this ministry allows. 

Those in this family who welcomed us and received the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, and our prayers for healing and blessing, appreciated and benefitted greatly from it as did we who conveyed it to them. I remember Bishop Fitzsimmons Allison, in one of his teachings, asking his clergy, “Have you ever been fatigued at the end of a day and really wished you did not have to make that pastoral visit to the home or hospital that still lay in front of you?” Then he asked, “Were you ever sorry that you did make that visit?” This day I would said emphatically, "No!"

Whenever people are invited into a home or gathering in Uganda, they are fed. These are people who share whatever they have. They all have plots of ground that they dig in and produce some form of food. So following the Eucharist we were brought hot milk mixed with tea in a thermos which was poured into ceramic cups and also matoke and brown rice with a "sauce" on it. 

I have eaten much of this menu as it is the standard in the Masindi District. However, for me this was the intimidating part. It is impolite to refuse what is being offered. I know that intestinal parasites are common among these people. I am comforted by the warmth of the food, and the knowledge that heat kills parasites. In a month of being here, I have not had one day of illness. So I pray a serious blessing over the food I am served as well as a silent prayer for protection. 24 hours later I can report a clean bill of health.

As we walk to the car to go to the next pastoral visit one of the small dogs takes off behind a brown hen, and catches the most hind part in its teeth. A white rooster runs in and jumps on the dog’s head scratching with its feet and pecking; flapping its wings yet clearly remaining in harm’s way. The dog has released the hen to give attention to the rooster. The mayhem tumbles to the base of a tree which has a divided trunk yielding a small opening at its base. The hen and rooster shoot through this opening which is too small for the dog. A smaller dog has come up behind the first at this point which motivates dog #1 (chicken feathers still hanging out of its mouth) to turn on it. This altercation is short lived as hierarchy is re-established. I have to send a text to Patti which says “Pastoral visit to small village successful. Ends with small dog seeking meal of live chicken. Rooster jumps small dog and wins. Dog saves face by whipping smaller dog.”

Our other visits to bring prayer and the Eucharist were in similar scenarios, minus the animal entertainment, but including the blessings.

 

We had been invited to Bishop Kasangaki’s home in the evening to greet some visitors from Durham, England. There was a tent erected, the Mother’s Union from St. Matthews was there to sponsor, welcome, and sing joyously. A caterer arrived, late, to offer dinner of the standard fare, which I had eaten at lunch and seemingly all afternoon. Near the end of the event, during which everyone in attendance was either introduced or introduced themselves, a large goat ran around the side of the house, increasing Patti’s concern with each running step. It paid us no attention as it ran bleating and dragging 15 feet of tether rope behind, disappearing into the night. We the Muzungus were the only ones who took notice.

 Wishing you God's Peace, and with many thanks for the continuing prayers of you saints, we are In His Grip, By His Grace, and for His Glory,

 

John And Patti Sos

 

 

Life with Mom and Dad in Uganda

Hey Everyone!

Its 5:30 pm here, and I just realized I have a few minutes before I need to head down to the guest house for supper with Mom and Dad, so I decided to do a little update.

Life is pretty great right now I will have to say. We truly love having my parents here with us. They have already been here for a month, and I know this next month is going to go by even faster. They have settled into life here so well. I was a little anxious at first because I didn’t know how they were going to like living here, but they love all of the parts that we love about it, and they just roll with the rest. It’s always really fun too to see people’s 1^st impressions and observations. It kind of refreshes Newman and me and reminds us of what we first loved about this place when we moved here over a year ago. Mom and Dad quickly caught on to the “Ugandan English” and they have found comedy in the cultural differences that we too have laughed about. Dad has eaten more local food than Newman and I have probably combined. He spends his days with locals, and is at their mercy for meals, and his stomach has proved to be strong. The food really isn’t bad, but it is different from what he is used to. Mom learned very quickly how to cook here and how to clean produce properly. None of us are going hungry, that’s for sure. We have started a little bible study/supper club which has been really fun. We share 5 out of 7 suppers a week together probably. I will miss our evening get togethers very much. I love hearing Dad tell us what he saw/did that day with Reverend Francis. There is always something interesting to recount.

Newman is busy with work between the clinic and the house, but he has been very pleased with how our administration has been handling things. He is able to step away and know that everything will continue to run smoothly until he returns, which is a great feeling. We were able to step away briefly this week, and we took my parents up to Murchison Falls National Park. We stayed at Paraa Lodge like we always do. We had some time by the pool; Mom got a massage, we went on a game drive, and we did a river boat safari. They got to see lots of animals close up for the 1^st time (a little too close to a certain very large crocodile if you ask Mom). We had perfect weather, and we all really enjoyed relaxing together. The only downside to the whole excursion was a little scare that we had with Newman. On the ride to the lodge and on the ride back to Masindi, Newman began to break out into a terrible rash all over his body. We didn’t know what was going on or how bad it was going to get. I was running scenarios in my head of what I was going to do if he began having trouble breathing. Praise God he did not. Mom luckily had some antihistamines in her bag as well as some hydrocortisone cream. After 2 tablets both times, he began to have some relief and within a couple of hours was back to normal. We think that he is allergic to the saliva of the tsetse fly which are annoying and painful flies that we inevitably get bitten by on the ride through the park every time. He has probably been having small reactions all along, but he always thought it was just heat rash or sun poisoning. We are going to begin carrying medications with us everywhere in case it happens again and the reactions continue to worsen. Please keep him in your prayers. We pray that it doesn’t happen again and that we are right about the cause so that we know what to avoid as best we can.

So, for the next few weeks, we will be around Masindi, working and enjoying each other’s company. We miss everyone at home very much. We have really enjoyed getting updates from my sister Liza and her husband Jamie about the baby they are expecting. The pregnancy is coming along great, so please keep them in your prayers as well.

That’s all for now!

Love,

Trish

 

Little Father's Day Corn Hole

 



 

 The view behind our house

 

 

Dad, Newman, and Wilson's visit to the Rhino Sanctuary

Giraffes from our game drive

 

Amazing sunset on the way back to the lodge

 

This was the big guy that almost sent Mom out of control. This is not zoomed in...we were that close.

Family pic in front of Murchison Falls

 

 

 

 

Twins

A Cow and Chickens at Church……. OH MY!!

 

John and I have now been in Uganda close to 3 weeks. The climate has really surprised me as I had anticipated the weather to be much more hot and dry. We are enjoying sunny days of relatively low humidity. A few showers have passed through at night which has really made the evenings pleasantly cool.

 

The vegetation is surprisingly similar to what we have in Charleston. Oleanders are in full bloom as are mimosa trees, spider lilies, and black-eyed susans. The mangoes have just about finished falling from the tress, but passion fruit and bread fruit are coming into season. The avocadoes are divine! Trish and Newman have a tree in their yard that produces avocadoes as large as grapefruit. We have enjoyed them daily. Newman and Wilson knocked a few from the tree in their yard before the monkeys had a chance to enjoy them!

 

Newman is quite a gardener. He has cucumbers, tomatoes, squash and a variety of herbs planted. He rigged up an impressive irrigation system with some tubing that simultaneously waters his entire garden. The local children had never seen water shooting out of a perferated hose before …they were quite impressed (as was I)!

 

For the past two Sundays, we have worshipped at St. Matthew’s Cathedral, where John is doing his internship. It is a wonderful growing parish where 3 services are held each Sunday and about 1500 are in attendance between the three.

 

Last Sunday, John went at 7:50 to prepare to lay read at the 9:00 English service, the middle one, and Trish, Newman and I walked over a little later. When we arrived, the portico was full of people as was the church yard. As we stood there waiting for the early service to end, we were smiling and saying hello to the darling children playing on a swing in the churchyard.        Everyone was dressed in their Sunday best, and lots of visiting was going on. The 3 of us were the only “muzungus” (white people) there, so our presence was noticeable.

 

At one point, I looked toward the far end of the churchyard and noticed a large young black and white spotted cow walking freely toward the church. There is a pasture in that direction so I didn’t think too much of it UNTIL the cow proceeded to leap over a hedge and enter the churchyard.  To my surprise, no one but me seemed to be alarmed by this.

I commented in a rather excited voice to Trish and Newman, “Look at that cow! He’s coming this way!”  My eyes got big and I watched him closely.

(Anyone who knows me well is aware of my nervousness around animals. It is something that I inherited from my dear Mother. It does not matter that John and I lived on a farm prior to moving to Nashotah House. It is what it is, and I try to hide it, but today-- I could not!)

 

As the cow moved through the crowd, people looked up from visiting and moved away a little but no one reacted like I thought they should, (like with alarm…… running and seeking shelter). Instead, it seemed to me that they were reacting like this was a normal occurrence, and maybe it was!

By this time, the cow was mooing and proceeded to jump over a few more hedges and was excitedly kicking up his hind legs. He was getting more spirited than I was comfortable with. I said to Trish and Newman, “Come on!”, and then quickly left their company.

 

I scurried over to the front portico steps of the church. My eyes were bigger than those of a deer caught in headlights, and I was ready to make a quick entry into the church if need be. People along side of me began to chuckle (as did my children who were still comfortably standing several yards away). A common expression that Ugandans use to say “I am afraid” is to say, “I am fearing”, and honey child, I was fearing!

 

I watched the cow jump the final hedge row, proceed from the church yard, and move on down the dirt road to pastures far beyond. I was really glad to see him exit, and to my surprise, the locals did not seem very alarmed by what has just taken place.

Making my way back to Trish and Newman I could see they had thoroughly enjoyed my reactions to the “holy cow”.

 

Luckily, the first service was just finishing and we were now ready to take our pew inside. We were seated in the front row and I calmed myself down by saying my prayers. After a few deep breaths, all was well and the processional hymn began. It was an English service that uses a power point presentation so it is familiar and easy to follow.

  

During the latter portion of the service, it came time for the collection. A large collection basket on a stand is moved to the front and center of the church. People come up from their pews and put their monetary offering into the basket. I noticed a few bags sitting at the base of the collection basket. Some were filled with onions from a garden, some with mangoes, or fresh eggs, some with bananas, or tomatoes.  These too were offerings that had been brought, and I was thinking how nice this is and also how very biblical to offer the ‘first fruits’. 

 

As I looked away, Trish nudged me and motioned toward the bags of produce. There in the midst of about half a dozen bags sat 2 live chickens whose feet had been bound!

Next, I saw another live chicken that someone had stuffed into a green plastic bag. The bag began to hop and move along the front of the church. A woman from the choir got up and put the bagged chicken behind the lectern to “secure” it. By now my eyes were getting that wide-eyed look like they had back when the cow made her entry.

 

Just then, a man from the choir got up and began to auction the bags of produce to the highest bidder so that the money might be put into the collection basket. It was quite entertaining and the items went quickly, and now it was time to auction off the chickens,  (remember we are sitting on the front row, and the auction is going on was about 3 feet away from us). The woman from the choir who had secured the bagged chicken under the lectern pulled off the wrap from the chicken’s legs and was now holding it by its feet for display as the auctioneer drew bids from the congregation.

 

I will have to say that I have never seen anything like this and my emotions ranged from amazed and entertained, to a little “fearing” each time the woman moved close to us with the chicken.  (I think I began to squeeze Trish’s hand and she informed me that I was hurting her.) Finally, the auction was over, and my heart was racing after all that had taken place.

    

All aspects of the service, from the music, to the preaching, to the auction, made for a lively Sunday and quite a worship experience!  I can truly say that we are learning a lot and are embracing this special time here in the town of Masindi with our children and the wonderful parishioners who have welcomed us so very warmly into their community. May God bless them all immensely!

Blessings,

Patti

 

When Asked to Give a "Word"

Our Bermuda style abode- more windows than wall

 

 

Rev. Francis Kajura and John Sos- Home from the funeral. Ready for a cup of tea and a visit with Mum (Patti).

 

 

Massias- our next neighbor- he decided to dress today. He is, after all, in charge of the train at his feet.

Market day produce in Basket made by Constance- see below

 

Dear Constance who lives next door, making another basket outside of her home.

She is a regular at St. Matthews. Such a lady.

 

 

Psalm 8 verse 1 in the Runyoro language: Ai Mukama, Mukama waitu, Ibara lyawe ka lirungi omu nsi zona!

 

Although most people in Masindi speak English very well, I hear a great deal of "Runyoro" as that is the preferred language of communication. Each letter of every word is sounded so, even now, if I have a “Praise Book” I can sing with them (mostly).

 

We have been in Masindi for just over a week, and already we have more of interest to report than most have the inclination to read.

 

Anyone who knows my wife Patti knows of her gift for turning a dwelling into a home such that it is a welcoming place of comfort for all who enter. She has done this already with help from Trish and Newman. We are as comfortable here as we have been at Nashotah House or at home on Wadmalaw.

 

Equatorial Africa, in the Masindi District, has many open areas some of which are turned by hand into a multitude of cultivated hills. This is done by local people with very large hoes. In each hill is planted several sweet potato plants, eggplant, or whatever is to be harvested 2 to 3 months later. There are many fruit trees of Mango, Jac-Fruit, Avacado, and Passion-fruit, which feed many people and a lot of monkeys. Right now I am sitting in our living room area watching people work in fields and hearing the occasional ripe mango bounce off of a tin roof as it falls from a tree.

 

From a comfort perspective, the average daily highs are a very pleasant 85 degrees with cool breezes. We sleep with windows open at night and a sheet to cover us. God has been good and has revealed His provisional nature in so many ways.

 

This has been a very interesting week in my internship under Rev. Francis Kajura, at the Cathedral church of St. Matthews. He is very intentional in his efforts to include me in all aspects of parish life. The church sponsors a religious education program for children called the Children’s Development Center. I sat on a panel charged with interviewing prospective teachers for this program. Six of us interviewed 13 candidates for 8 positions. This was carried out very professionally and with great care recognizing that, in the developing country of Uganda, subsequent to the corruption of Idi Amin’s rule, it will only be through the instilling of Christian values that this next generation and the country will be able to thrive.

 

Anytime a Muzunga (white person) is introduced into a church gathering he is asked to give a “Word”.  I now never go to any of these gatherings without having thought of something that will hopefully be encouraging. There are frequent gatherings at the church: 6:30 AM prayer and teaching, 1:00 PM fellowship hour with testimony, ladies’ and men’s bible study, etc.

 

I have been to two funerals this week. The first was for a month old infant who had contracted malaria. This was a relatively small affair where about fifty people were gathered under a tarp outside of a simple hand made brick structure which was the family home. Rev. Francis asked me to open the service in prayer, and then later to give a “Word.” At this point, I knew that I was out of my comfort zone. If being in the unfamiliar surroundings of Masindi Uganda was not enough, I was now being called on to bring comfort and to reflect the compassion of Christ to this distraught father and extended family, that I had just met. I do not remember my words other than to claim God’s Goodness and to ask for His presence and comfort. There is a universality about death and especially the death of a child. We are always immediately beyond ourselves, yet as always God reveals Himself in our weakness.

 

At the second funeral, there were 2000 attendees, again outside at the family home.  We went not to officiate, but in support of the family. Mine was the only white face in the crowd. There was sincere appreciation expressed for our presence. The highlite for me was a little 3 year old girl who stood in front of me, staring, and silently demanding my attention. She slowly came closer, and when I smiled she came up, touched my arm, and ran a short distance away. Rev. Francis leaned forward and chuckled saying, “She went to tell her friends that she touched a Muzunga.” Shortly thereafter she was sitting in my lap. I learned that her name is Peace.

 

The Ugandans we have met, from those who have the least access to resources to those who have the most, have been people of integrity, humility, and graciousness.  A typical response to my thanking them for their hospitality is, “Thank you for appreciating.”

 

My prayer as I prepared to come to Uganda was that I would love the people to whom I would minister and with whom I would interact. I have a very quick and most positive responses to my prayer. These people are easy to love. They are genuinely appreciative of our coming to be with them, not because of what they expect we might do for them, but because we represent the Body of Christ from across the world who seeks to work with them for the spread of His Kingdom.

 

That is more than enough for now. Thank you for your prayers in our behalf. We are very much aware of that support.

 

In His Grip, and by His Grace we are,

 

John and Patti

John and Patti are Living in the Pearl

Dear All, Who follow this blog,

Trish and Newman are allowing us (John and Patti) to share their blog this summer in order to give updates of our activities during our two month stay in Africa.

We are here in Masindi for 8 weeks for me (John) to complete a parish internship at St. Matthews, the Cathedral for the  Masindi-Katara Diocese of the Anglican Church. Such an internship is a requirement of my seminary studies at Nashotah House, and also fulfills our parental desire to be with Trish and Newman during their time here with PMI. So I will be working under Bishop George Kasangaki and Rev. Francis Kajura, getting experience in the life of parish ministry through teaching, preaching, prayer, visitation and all else that goes on within that context. We have spent our 3rd night in Africa and I can see that, as Dorothy said, "We are not in Kansas anymore."

Our trip over was uneventful until we were 163 miles out of Amsterdam, and a stewardess' voice on the intercom said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, there has been a report of a smoke-like smell, please let us know of any warm spots you detect along the bulk head." The power of suggestion being pretty much intact, Patti and I thought maybe we smelled smoke. We prayed against all fire and causes of fire. In a few minutes the stewardess said, "We have determined the cause of the  smell and it seems to be a lotion called "Tiger Essence" being worn by one of the passengers." It must be a Hot fragrance.

The immediate difference I recognized as we flew over the country into Entebbe was the lack of lights visible on the ground. This is due to hugely unpopulated areas and a lack of electrified lighting except in the city. This definitely is the Dark Continent.

At the market yesterday in Masindi, there was produce, tilapia fish, Nile perch, whole goat skinned and hanging, and beef, fresh and for sale in the 80 degree temp. It was all fresh and not the least effervescent. We bought produce but passed on the meat. While the girls were busy there Newman, and Wilson (their Ugandan employee) and I went to look at the bows and arrows. These are sold not as tourist trinkets but to locals for use in self defense (by house guards) and for hunting. These are simple bows which have about a 30 lb. pull, arrows with no feathers tipped by a sharpened steel non retractable head. I was informed that the locals have no difficulty shooting these arrows very straight and with effect.

The goat fajitas I had for lunch probably came from that market, and so far I have tolerated the food well.

We were visited yesterday afternoon by 6 neighbor children ages 6 -7 years. They were happy to show us some dance moves and to sing some school songs for us Muzungus (white people).

Our intention is to report occurrences of interest and to share God's Incarnational revelation of Himself in our midst as we are stretched for His purposes. We are so very grateful for your prayers in our behalf.

In His Grip, By His Grace, and For His Glory we are,

John and Patti