My heart is heavy right now. We arrived back in Kampala about an hour ago, and I am just relaxing. I took two Dramamines so I wouldn’t get sick on the flight this time...should have just taken one…but nevermind.
The day began with a visit to the other IDP camp where FH works: Padibe. An IDP camp is for internally displaced persons. It’s basically a refugee camp, but for those still within their home country. People move to these camps because their own villages have been raided or burned, or because their villages are at risk of being raided or burned. Some people have been living in these camps for 20 years.
Walking through Padibe was like slogging through a sewer, only worse, because many people live there. You can see the Sudan border from Padibe. I climbed atop a hill about 10 feet high to get a better view, and then I was informed the hill was formed out of human waste. Walls of huts are constructed out of slender bamboo sticks woven together and sometimes covered with mud. Roofs are made of straw or plastic sheets bearing USAID or OXFAM. A family of five or more may live in a round hut about 10 feet in diameter. That is all there is.
The roofs of these huts often touch because the space is so cramped. Certainly, there is no running water, sewer system, electricity, etc. Disease is everywhere…you walk on it, you sit on it, you sleep on it, you eat and drink it.
I was doing alright until I came across a tiny human squatting on a straw mat in front of a hut. I saw him from the side…. His skull was large and was supported by the body of a 1-year-old. He whimpered and cried, each breath counting down to his death. His fingers and toes were still together as if they never fully formed and separated in the womb. When he turned his head, I was shocked to find his facial features so mature for such a small body. I asked one of the FH staff how old he was, and a neighbor told us he was 4 years old. His mother had abandoned him. Nothing shined out from the inside of him. He was just filled with decay. Why will no one take care of him? I hope he will pass away soon, as God will take care of him in heaven, I think. Is it wrong for me to think this way?
God has mobilized the faithful to serve in Padibe – more than two dozen of them. They go into this filth every day to counsel and teach the displaced. Their reward is waiting in heaven, and they know it.
I can’t imagine.
Many of the babies at the New Life Center got baptized today. The local Anglical vicker, who donated the land for the Center, conducted the baptisms. I loved that time. Some kids slept through the sprinkling water, some cried, and one little girl named Alimo just walked herself up to the front and stood there proudly until her turn was over. The mothers looked very proud.
And then it was time to say goodbye, because Lindsay and I had to catch our flight back to Kampala. I tried to form a shield over my heart as I hugged and shook the hands of the staff and girls, so my heart wouldn’t feel the pain of saying goodbye. I tried not to look them in the eyes or hear what they were saying to me. It didn’t work.
I will miss my friends and hope I’ll see them again one day. Perhaps I can send letters through the Center, and they will be taken out to the girls in the camps. I pray for God to be with them, to keep them strong, and to help them love one another.
Certainly, a whole lot of work and money has gone into the restoration of these girls, and it probably hasn’t even made a noticeable dent in the overall situation of northern Uganda. But it is always worth it, even just for one.
I am still processing this whole week. Might be processing for a while. I have so much more to tell, but I’m too tired for now!
Friday, October 19, 2007
thur., oct. 18
I thought I was prepared for my heart to be broken by the stories of the women before they came to the New Life Center and by the conditions of the IDP camps. My heart has surprised me again by feeling something I did not expect: I am so sad to leave these women. I am so sad to know their children must return to the filth that is the camps.
This evening, Lindsay and I sat in Betty’s hut with Grace, Joyce and two other women whose names I don’t know. And all their kids. We just talked and laughed…. The girls wanted to know the names of our parents. One of the girls whose name I don’t know told us how much she loves tilling the soil and weeding her garden. She was shocked that Lindsay and I don’t weed our gardens at home. Her face squinched when we asked which camp she came from – Mucwini or Padibe (all the girls at the Center come from one of these two camps). She is working on an advanced course in tailoring at a nearby school.
Terry explained that she is a special case. She has been at the Center since last term (which began in March), and she and two other girls have been allowed to stay at the Center so they can finish their vocational training. These girls face an incredible amount of stigma, having been abducted. Largely, the people in their communities are not understanding but rather treat these women as outcasts…dangerous and dirty. So if these child mothers were to go to the tailoring school, they would receive too much opposition. Even the teachers can be so mean to them, according to Terry. So they can complete their courses in a timely manner, the New Life Center has allowed these three girls to stay longer than usual.
The time in Betty’s hut was so precious to me. We all sat very close, on foam mattresses on the floor…kids snoring in between us and laughter exploding all around. They were sad to learn I am leaving tomorrow. “When will you come back?” they kept asking me. “I don’t know,” I said. They didn’t understand why I hadn’t yet made plans to return.
I actually have made real friends with a few of these girls…past a sort of helper/beneficiary relationship and into a real friendship. Their faces shine today; I wonder what their faces will be like upon returning home tomorrow. Many have expressed how much they miss gardening, but I wonder how they will deal with the social stigma…the dirty looks and turned backs.
Today, we also visited one IDP camp: Mucwini. It wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. Tomorrow, we’re going to Padibe, which apparently is much worse, as it isn’t funded by USAID. Mucwini certainly is terrible; there is no doubt about that. But many people from this camp already have moved to “satellite camps” – further out, smaller and one step closer to normal village life.
We visited the FHI office in Mucwini. It is about 10 x 12 feet square. The sign on the front door was created with a piece of copy paper and a sharpie. We could not all fit in there, so we carried our chairs down the road and sat under a very old, very huge tree. Introductions all around…thanks all around…smiles all around. The New Life Center supports 18 counselors and 18 teachers in Micwini, and 16 counselors and 16 teachers in Padibe. I got to talk with a few of them as we walked around the huts, marketplace, water well and teaching area.
We watched as one teacher taught literacy, which includes reading, writing and basic math. The girls hardly noticed they had visitors…they just worked like mad to copy what was on the chalkboard. Of course, their “classroom” was furnished only by the soil, two large trees and one small chalkboard set on an easel. This class had about 30 students, though some have as many as 50. Plus the babies...always the babies….
On the way back, we had to cross the flooded stream again; only this time, the stream won. The cool water actually felt quite nice on our feet and calves, though the equatorial sun was hard on us fair-skinned folk. Two hours later, we were out – sweaty, tired, hungry and sunburned. It was a quiet ride the rest of the way home.
I am learning quite a bit of Luo (local language), which I really enjoy. I can say ‘hello,’ ‘good morning,’ ‘good night,’ ‘how are you,’ ‘I am fine,’ ‘thank you very much’….yes that’s about it. I used to know ‘good afternoon’ until just a few hours ago. People try to teach me more every day. It’s slow going.
Oh yeah, I broke the video camera. I think it died of exhaustion. It only plays back the tapes, but the power won’t turn on when I try to record. I was just using it one minute, and the next minute, it was dead. I really have no idea what happened. This could mean a problem for the trip to Piswa next week.
I also learned today that at least two of the New Life Center staff (one of whom has been with FHI for 10 years) were themselves formerly abducted by the LRA. Matthew used to work in the child-development program in Mucwini, before the rebels came and abducted or killed many of the children. The rest fled, and the program had to close. So now he works at the Center. But before all this, he was abducted three separate times! He escaped each time and has some amazing stories. After the second abduction, people told him he had bad luck, so he should move to Kitgum town to be safer. He did, and he later was kidnapped from the place he worked. Matthew believes God made him go through this so he could better identify with the children and so he could strengthen his faith. His eyes watered the entire time he talked about the children on northern Uganda. He understands receiving grace and extending it to others.
Kenneth, who leads worship during each morning’s devotions (he also brings Lindsay and me afternoon tea each day), was abducted and lived four years in the bush. Terry told me not to ask him about his story as it’s still too hard for him to recount.
Tomorrow is graduation day. Many of the girls also will be baptized. I am looking very forward to this. But I am so tired now…time for sleep. Tomorrow, we fly back to Kampala.
This evening, Lindsay and I sat in Betty’s hut with Grace, Joyce and two other women whose names I don’t know. And all their kids. We just talked and laughed…. The girls wanted to know the names of our parents. One of the girls whose name I don’t know told us how much she loves tilling the soil and weeding her garden. She was shocked that Lindsay and I don’t weed our gardens at home. Her face squinched when we asked which camp she came from – Mucwini or Padibe (all the girls at the Center come from one of these two camps). She is working on an advanced course in tailoring at a nearby school.
Terry explained that she is a special case. She has been at the Center since last term (which began in March), and she and two other girls have been allowed to stay at the Center so they can finish their vocational training. These girls face an incredible amount of stigma, having been abducted. Largely, the people in their communities are not understanding but rather treat these women as outcasts…dangerous and dirty. So if these child mothers were to go to the tailoring school, they would receive too much opposition. Even the teachers can be so mean to them, according to Terry. So they can complete their courses in a timely manner, the New Life Center has allowed these three girls to stay longer than usual.
The time in Betty’s hut was so precious to me. We all sat very close, on foam mattresses on the floor…kids snoring in between us and laughter exploding all around. They were sad to learn I am leaving tomorrow. “When will you come back?” they kept asking me. “I don’t know,” I said. They didn’t understand why I hadn’t yet made plans to return.
I actually have made real friends with a few of these girls…past a sort of helper/beneficiary relationship and into a real friendship. Their faces shine today; I wonder what their faces will be like upon returning home tomorrow. Many have expressed how much they miss gardening, but I wonder how they will deal with the social stigma…the dirty looks and turned backs.
Today, we also visited one IDP camp: Mucwini. It wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. Tomorrow, we’re going to Padibe, which apparently is much worse, as it isn’t funded by USAID. Mucwini certainly is terrible; there is no doubt about that. But many people from this camp already have moved to “satellite camps” – further out, smaller and one step closer to normal village life.
We visited the FHI office in Mucwini. It is about 10 x 12 feet square. The sign on the front door was created with a piece of copy paper and a sharpie. We could not all fit in there, so we carried our chairs down the road and sat under a very old, very huge tree. Introductions all around…thanks all around…smiles all around. The New Life Center supports 18 counselors and 18 teachers in Micwini, and 16 counselors and 16 teachers in Padibe. I got to talk with a few of them as we walked around the huts, marketplace, water well and teaching area.
We watched as one teacher taught literacy, which includes reading, writing and basic math. The girls hardly noticed they had visitors…they just worked like mad to copy what was on the chalkboard. Of course, their “classroom” was furnished only by the soil, two large trees and one small chalkboard set on an easel. This class had about 30 students, though some have as many as 50. Plus the babies...always the babies….
On the way back, we had to cross the flooded stream again; only this time, the stream won. The cool water actually felt quite nice on our feet and calves, though the equatorial sun was hard on us fair-skinned folk. Two hours later, we were out – sweaty, tired, hungry and sunburned. It was a quiet ride the rest of the way home.
I am learning quite a bit of Luo (local language), which I really enjoy. I can say ‘hello,’ ‘good morning,’ ‘good night,’ ‘how are you,’ ‘I am fine,’ ‘thank you very much’….yes that’s about it. I used to know ‘good afternoon’ until just a few hours ago. People try to teach me more every day. It’s slow going.
Oh yeah, I broke the video camera. I think it died of exhaustion. It only plays back the tapes, but the power won’t turn on when I try to record. I was just using it one minute, and the next minute, it was dead. I really have no idea what happened. This could mean a problem for the trip to Piswa next week.
I also learned today that at least two of the New Life Center staff (one of whom has been with FHI for 10 years) were themselves formerly abducted by the LRA. Matthew used to work in the child-development program in Mucwini, before the rebels came and abducted or killed many of the children. The rest fled, and the program had to close. So now he works at the Center. But before all this, he was abducted three separate times! He escaped each time and has some amazing stories. After the second abduction, people told him he had bad luck, so he should move to Kitgum town to be safer. He did, and he later was kidnapped from the place he worked. Matthew believes God made him go through this so he could better identify with the children and so he could strengthen his faith. His eyes watered the entire time he talked about the children on northern Uganda. He understands receiving grace and extending it to others.
Kenneth, who leads worship during each morning’s devotions (he also brings Lindsay and me afternoon tea each day), was abducted and lived four years in the bush. Terry told me not to ask him about his story as it’s still too hard for him to recount.
Tomorrow is graduation day. Many of the girls also will be baptized. I am looking very forward to this. But I am so tired now…time for sleep. Tomorrow, we fly back to Kampala.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
wed., oct. 17
I am going to be sad to leave the New Life Center. I am going to miss the girls and staff very much. Much of the staff is my own age, which is fun. There are also older people to offer wisdom and knowledge.
I wish I could know the girls better. Today, I overheard Terry saying that many of the girls are afraid to go back home because their homes are violent and abusive. They beg the NLC staff to go talk to their husbands before they have to return home…. What do you say to that? Do you allow them to live in the Center forever? What can you do? I suppose you can just hope they remember what they were taught at the Center…the value of their lives, the security they have in Christ, and the peace that comes with that.
I also will be sad to leave the children, because they are too young to have tasted a solid faith in Christ while at the Center. I can just hope their mothers will pass on what they’ve learned. One little girl, Alimo, generally seems unhappy and afraid. She must be about 4 or 5 years old, and I am told she doesn’t sleep at night…she has terrible nightmares every night. I always try and sit near her and put my arm around her. She doesn’t talk to me, but she stays with me. When I must leave, I wave and smile to say goodbye, but she just stares and doesn’t smile back. I wonder what will happen to Alimo. She has a very hard life ahead of her.
Tomorrow, we are visiting an IDP camp. I feel like I am about to visit hell. I don’t want to see what I am going to see. I know it is there, but I prefer ignorance. I have to push aside this tendency. It will be a shock to go from such a safe, constructive, healing, love-saturated environment to one swimming in decay and hopelessness.
Thankfully, I don’t have to live in the camp. I don’t have to be there any longer than I wish. Any time I please, I can go back to that ‘heavenly’ place called America…the place where nearly anything I want, I can have.
But I will remember those still struggling every day, every minute to keep living. For them, to live is to toil. There is nothing else. I will remember my beautiful sisters in northern Uganda.
I wish I could know the girls better. Today, I overheard Terry saying that many of the girls are afraid to go back home because their homes are violent and abusive. They beg the NLC staff to go talk to their husbands before they have to return home…. What do you say to that? Do you allow them to live in the Center forever? What can you do? I suppose you can just hope they remember what they were taught at the Center…the value of their lives, the security they have in Christ, and the peace that comes with that.
I also will be sad to leave the children, because they are too young to have tasted a solid faith in Christ while at the Center. I can just hope their mothers will pass on what they’ve learned. One little girl, Alimo, generally seems unhappy and afraid. She must be about 4 or 5 years old, and I am told she doesn’t sleep at night…she has terrible nightmares every night. I always try and sit near her and put my arm around her. She doesn’t talk to me, but she stays with me. When I must leave, I wave and smile to say goodbye, but she just stares and doesn’t smile back. I wonder what will happen to Alimo. She has a very hard life ahead of her.
Tomorrow, we are visiting an IDP camp. I feel like I am about to visit hell. I don’t want to see what I am going to see. I know it is there, but I prefer ignorance. I have to push aside this tendency. It will be a shock to go from such a safe, constructive, healing, love-saturated environment to one swimming in decay and hopelessness.
Thankfully, I don’t have to live in the camp. I don’t have to be there any longer than I wish. Any time I please, I can go back to that ‘heavenly’ place called America…the place where nearly anything I want, I can have.
But I will remember those still struggling every day, every minute to keep living. For them, to live is to toil. There is nothing else. I will remember my beautiful sisters in northern Uganda.
tue., oct. 16
It is 5:30 p.m., and I’m exhausted! My brain and body are both tired. Lindsay and I interviewed only four people on camera today. We spoke with two formerly abducted women. I have not been driven to tears. In fact, I am very surprised at how emotionally unresponsive I’ve been. Maybe it’s because being in Africa already puts you at a different level of humanity…you are more aware of death and evil all the time, so hearing horrifying stories is not quite as shocking….? That is my theory. I talked about it with Lindsay at dinner tonight, and she also made me realize that the stories are not so hard to hear now because they are over. The effects of them are all but dissolved. If I were sitting in an IDP camp hearing about the rape, torture and forced killings the girls had to witness and endure, how they wanted to end the 24-hour nightmares by killing themselves and their children, I would not be so cheerful. I would be filled with despair and hopelessness.
But these are new women, as they say, and they have been given new life. The demon-possessed are now housing the Holy Spirit, and fits of rage have been replaced by self-control and understanding. I can finally use the word transformation to describe the setting and can mean it purely…not as some feel-good slogan. God has taken shattered, scattered hearts and has not only sewn them back together; He has completely recreated them, and they are more beautiful than ever. And as Betty said today, she feels beautiful even on the outside. And she knows her value and worth.
This is a hard life here in Africa. All day you work, sweat, breathe dust…. There is happiness and there is joy, but you work for it.
The power just went out.
Oh it’s back on now!
Possibly my favorite part of today was when I rocked a little baby to sleep as Lindsay interviewed his mother (Betty). He was making too much fuss and disturbing the interview, so I bobbed and swayed with him until he was out. Then it started raining, so I covered him with a cloth, and we went inside, where I laid him on a little mattress. He slept for a while.
We rested and ate lunch in the NLC guesthouse, where Terry lives. She showed us how to work the “ab chair.” It was funny. It was a good rest. We got to eat mushrooms that had been harvested just today. I don’t even like mushrooms, but lunch was gooooood.
At the end of the day, we played with the girls and children, and we watched two girls bake bread. They are taught breadmaking as a way to be involved at the Center, and it is a skill they can take back with them to the communities.
I love the New Life Center.
I love the New Life Center because God is there, and He is working. The staff are so passionate…so solid…so hard-working and committed. What is happening there is real, it is life, it is love, and it is good.
But these are new women, as they say, and they have been given new life. The demon-possessed are now housing the Holy Spirit, and fits of rage have been replaced by self-control and understanding. I can finally use the word transformation to describe the setting and can mean it purely…not as some feel-good slogan. God has taken shattered, scattered hearts and has not only sewn them back together; He has completely recreated them, and they are more beautiful than ever. And as Betty said today, she feels beautiful even on the outside. And she knows her value and worth.
This is a hard life here in Africa. All day you work, sweat, breathe dust…. There is happiness and there is joy, but you work for it.
The power just went out.
Oh it’s back on now!
Possibly my favorite part of today was when I rocked a little baby to sleep as Lindsay interviewed his mother (Betty). He was making too much fuss and disturbing the interview, so I bobbed and swayed with him until he was out. Then it started raining, so I covered him with a cloth, and we went inside, where I laid him on a little mattress. He slept for a while.
We rested and ate lunch in the NLC guesthouse, where Terry lives. She showed us how to work the “ab chair.” It was funny. It was a good rest. We got to eat mushrooms that had been harvested just today. I don’t even like mushrooms, but lunch was gooooood.
At the end of the day, we played with the girls and children, and we watched two girls bake bread. They are taught breadmaking as a way to be involved at the Center, and it is a skill they can take back with them to the communities.
I love the New Life Center.
I love the New Life Center because God is there, and He is working. The staff are so passionate…so solid…so hard-working and committed. What is happening there is real, it is life, it is love, and it is good.
monday, oct. 15
Today has been good. I have experienced and learned a lot. I am also very tired.
I arrived in Entebbe around 8:30 last night, without my checked luggage. I wonder if it will come even by the time I leave to return to the States. Julia Miller, hunger corps, graciously lent me several shirts and skirts. And I bought a toothbrush in Amsterdam, so that was good too. That’s about all I have. I also had checked the microphone…but we were fortunate to find one in Kampala today.
This morning began that way: running around to do errands. Lindsay, who is doing communications for FHI/Congo, is also traveling with me, which is really good. We took a 12:30 flight (in a 70s-era propeller plane) from Entebbe to Pader, stopping briefly in Gulu. My stomach dissented and purged the vegetable samosa and tea I had for lunch, until there was nothing left inside.
Once we landed, there was no one to meet us except the searing equatorial sun and UPDF soldiers, so a kind woman from Mercy Corps took us to the FHI office in Pader. That was neat. I got to meet my sisters and brothers. Lindsay and I went to a local restaurant and had some water while we waited for Patrick, the driver, to arrive. Some cars had been stuck in the mud along the road, so he couldn’t pass and thus was late in fetching us. He was very apologetic.
The ride from Pader to Kitgum was about 1.5 hours, on a very messy road. Patrick prefers oldies music….he had a cassette tape on repeat the WHOLE time. I will never, ever enjoy the song, “Only the Lonely” ever again.
Arriving at the New Life Center in Kitgum was like coming home from a long journey. We were met with gaping smiles, warm hugs, curtsies and many “You are welcome”s. the children also were very sweet. I look forward to getting to know everyone better tomorrow.
After meeting and greeting, Lindsay and I dropped our things at the Boma Hotel and went for a walk. Took lots of pictures. Energetic, squealing children all wanting me to snap their picture. I complied. We played and laughed.
Terri, the staff coordinator at the NLC, joined Lindsay and me for dinner, and that was so delightful. She is a most beautiful woman inside and out. She talked so much about the NLC, the history of the war, the present state of Uganda, politics across Africa, etc. etc. etc. I could listen to her for hours. So well spoken and easy to understand. So intelligent, confident and caring. I am thankful for her life. She is doing wonderful things with it.
And now I rest under a giant mosquito net, earplugs in (SO thankfully, I had them with me on board the plane!!), windows open, crickets chirping, mosquitoes buzzing, geckos sticking, staff in the lobby mopping up after a water leak.
Until tomorrow…..
I arrived in Entebbe around 8:30 last night, without my checked luggage. I wonder if it will come even by the time I leave to return to the States. Julia Miller, hunger corps, graciously lent me several shirts and skirts. And I bought a toothbrush in Amsterdam, so that was good too. That’s about all I have. I also had checked the microphone…but we were fortunate to find one in Kampala today.
This morning began that way: running around to do errands. Lindsay, who is doing communications for FHI/Congo, is also traveling with me, which is really good. We took a 12:30 flight (in a 70s-era propeller plane) from Entebbe to Pader, stopping briefly in Gulu. My stomach dissented and purged the vegetable samosa and tea I had for lunch, until there was nothing left inside.
Once we landed, there was no one to meet us except the searing equatorial sun and UPDF soldiers, so a kind woman from Mercy Corps took us to the FHI office in Pader. That was neat. I got to meet my sisters and brothers. Lindsay and I went to a local restaurant and had some water while we waited for Patrick, the driver, to arrive. Some cars had been stuck in the mud along the road, so he couldn’t pass and thus was late in fetching us. He was very apologetic.
The ride from Pader to Kitgum was about 1.5 hours, on a very messy road. Patrick prefers oldies music….he had a cassette tape on repeat the WHOLE time. I will never, ever enjoy the song, “Only the Lonely” ever again.
Arriving at the New Life Center in Kitgum was like coming home from a long journey. We were met with gaping smiles, warm hugs, curtsies and many “You are welcome”s. the children also were very sweet. I look forward to getting to know everyone better tomorrow.
After meeting and greeting, Lindsay and I dropped our things at the Boma Hotel and went for a walk. Took lots of pictures. Energetic, squealing children all wanting me to snap their picture. I complied. We played and laughed.
Terri, the staff coordinator at the NLC, joined Lindsay and me for dinner, and that was so delightful. She is a most beautiful woman inside and out. She talked so much about the NLC, the history of the war, the present state of Uganda, politics across Africa, etc. etc. etc. I could listen to her for hours. So well spoken and easy to understand. So intelligent, confident and caring. I am thankful for her life. She is doing wonderful things with it.
And now I rest under a giant mosquito net, earplugs in (SO thankfully, I had them with me on board the plane!!), windows open, crickets chirping, mosquitoes buzzing, geckos sticking, staff in the lobby mopping up after a water leak.
Until tomorrow…..
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