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.