P.S.

I just changed my settings so that anyone can comment, spammers excluded (hopefully).

Poor, neglected blog...

Well, it's hard to know where begin after going through several rather eventful weeks without visiting my little blog site. Best to just dive right in...

After my terrifying trip down the Nile and before my birthday Melissa and I had the chance to head up to northern Uganda to the SP office in Lira. If the words Lord's Resistance Army, "night commuters", or Invisible Children ring a bell then you have heard about the situation up north. Over the last two decades the LRA has internally displaced massive amounts of Ugandans and gained a reputation for its routine practices of child abduction (often to be given as wives or trained as soldiers) and many other attrocities. SP began working in northern Uganda several years ago in partnership with the World Food Program in order to give food to people living in refugee camps. Around Lira the camps have pretty much diappeared as a measure of stability has allowed people to return to their homes. SP now works in resettlement and rebuilding activities. We visited a women's vocational program. I loved it. I love programs like that. I have more I could say about this, but maybe I'll save that for another time.

While in northen Uganda we joined forces with the American SP interns (a married couple about my age) and we headed to a game park for the weekend. We saw a LOT of giraffes and camped at the top of one of the world's most powerful waterfalls. There were a number of hippos about and I was afraid one of them would step on my tent while I was sleeping and I would become the owner of a very embarrasing eulogy. My fears were unfounded.

Then it was back to the capital and then back to the village. Our country director asked Melissa and I to do a survey of homes who received water filters in 2006/2007. This turned into a task that more or less consumed our lives for the past three weeks and involved a lot of trekking down little paths and plunging my arms in filters full of murky water in dark corners of mud hut homes. All in all, it was great. Wonderful to be working hands on with the filter again after doing office work for the past while, and great to see that the water project has been successful. Now all the data is in and the report is (almost...oh, so close!) done.

The water project is also wrapping up their current cycle and looking ahead to the next few years. Staff has been busy collecting survey data in possible operation areas and Melissa and I have been keeping the home fires burning. This has entailed drinking a lot of chai and entering thousands of surveys into spreadsheets. We are now in the process of writing a proposal for funding for the next several years. This, (together with the 2006/2007 survey and planning the staff Christmas party- pictures to come, I'm sure), has kept us rather busy for the last month. This is great. We have learned so much and we have loved it, but we are VERY excited for our upcoming Christmas holiday.

Oh! In the midst of all the data entry, etc, our lovely boss came all the way from Canada for a visit! It was lovely, and provided us with a great excuse to go back to our favorite national park. We miss you, Raiji!

We also had another Children's Hygiene Fair. It was great. Sorry to overuse the term "great" in this post, but, it's been a _____ month!

(As a note, only 10% of the thousands of homes we surveyed had an improved water source. This is awful and makes me feel sick at heart. The water project out here is so needed and it is a priviledge to be a part of it for this short time. When I was doing the 2006/2007 survey I was amazed to hear people talk about the difference the filter has made in their lives. One lady even did a little dance. It really does provide clean, safe drinking water in a user friendly and environmentally friendly way. It's wonderful technology and I think God for it. If you have thought about becoming a part of the Samaritan's Purse Turn On The Tap campaign to raise money for filter projects around the world, I would highly recommend that you get involved. Water is life, as we like to say around here.)

This week Melissa and I are headed to the capital city and won't be back out in the village until January. On Friday I am going solo all the way to Nairobi to see my dear, dear, dear to the point that I should capitalize "dear" friends, Clayton and Esther who are volunteering in Kenya for a few months. I am so excited to see them for a few days, and then it's back to Uganda in time for Christmas Day. Then...December 26, 2008. A day Melissa and I have been dreaming of for months...the day we fly to Zanzibar! We are going for a week's vacation to what we hear is a lovely island with white beaches and yummy seafood. We are so excited. Then, we are back to Uganda for our last 2 1/2 weeks! Can it be? Where did the time go?

I'm not thinking too much about leavning Uganda because it makes me quite sad. Instead, I am thinking about seeing so many dear people in Canada...and having a belated Thanksgiving dinner (mom, I am serious about that. I need, not want, need cranberry sauce).

Monica is doing so well. She has adapted beautifully to having only one hand- it is really remarkable. After talking with a surgeon here in Uganda and a physician in Canada who has a wealth of experience working in Nigeria, we have decided not to pursue a prosthetic for Monica. There are a lot of reasons, and it was a hard decision, but in the end I have a lot of peace about it. I talked things over with Monica's family the other day and I think we are all on the same page. Please pray for her grandfather, if you think of it. He has congestive heart failure and when I saw him last week he had really gone down hill. In addition to the heart, I suspect that something serious is going on with his liver and his lungs are full of fluid. I am thinking that we might try to get him to our local hospital this next week; he is so miserable right now and there is nothing that can be done for him out in his village. Hard stuff.

To close, here is a photo of two highlights of the last month:

My friend braided my hair, and we got a cat (not in that order).

Happy 26th...

My mom sent me a birthday e-mail today containing an exerpt from a book she has been reading. I thought I would post it here. It is one of my wishes as I blow out my proverbial candles today:

Let me (my mom) share some thoughts from a book I’ve just read called Wild Goose Chase. The Celtic Christians called the Holy Spirit the Wild Goose:

The promptings of the Holy Spirit can sometimes seem pretty pointless, but rest assured, God is working his plan. And if you chase the Wild Goose, he will take you places you never could have imagined going by paths you never knew existed…A part of us feels that something is spiritually wrong with us when we experience circumstantial uncertainty. But that’s precisely what Jesus promised us when we start following him. Most of us will have no idea where we are going most of the time. That is unsettling. But circumstantial uncertainty also goes by another name: adventure.

When God puts a passion in your heart, whether it be relieving starvation in Africa or educating children in the inner city or making movies with redemptive messages, that God ordained passion becomes your responsibility.

So what makes you cry? What makes you pound your fist on the table? What makes you smile? If you want to discover your God-ordained passions, then you need to identify what makes you sad, mad or glad…God-ordained passions sometimes break our hearts. And they can seem like an overwhelming burden to bear. But pursuing our passions is the key to living a fruitful and fulfilling life. It is the thing that wakes us up early in the morning and keeps us up late at night. It is the thing that turns a career into a calling. It is the thing that gives us goose bumps—Wild Goose bumps. And nothing will bring you greater joy.

Frederick Buechner once wrote: “The voice we should listen to most as we choose a vocation is the voice that we might think we should listen to least, and that is the voice of our own gladness. What can we do that makes us the gladdest? I believe that if it is a thing that makes us truly glad, then it is a good think and it is our thing.”

I can't wait...I just love it.

Two at a time...

I'm having one of those days where I'm not sure where I fit.

When I come back to Canada I will miss this.

Right now I miss all of you.

I can't say I felt totally at home in this picture.

But I can't say that I felt totally at home in this picture either.

Is this me?

Or is this me?





Loving two very different lives can make things a little confusing.

Or maybe I'm just really blessed.

A picture post...

I think I'd better do this by category. I am having trouble with my connection today so I might have to post several times over the next few days/weeks/months/when I get back to Canada. We'll see...

Moments

This is just a photo of a little guy getting a cup of water from his filter but his expression cracks me up. I don't think he expected to be photographed.

One weekend Melissa and I went to visit our friend's parents WAY out in their village. This is me and the mamma having breakfast one morning. Note my dress. I love that dress.

This is baby Owen and his mom Allen (which is a girl's name here). We were able to help provide them with transport costs so Owen could go to a free clinic and get braces to help correct his club feet.


This is our backyard glowing in the light after an evening storm. Beautiful.



The children's choir dancing up a storm in church.

Queen Elizabeth National Park

Melissa and I fit in a quick trip to Queen Elizabeth National Park. It was quite the feast for the senses.

Stopping at the "equator" on the trip down. I am not picking my nose in this picture.

Our hostel at the game park was infested with warthogs, which is far more desireable than our bat/mouse population back in the village.


Ugandan Kob. These little guys are just beautiful!

Hippos!! (Oh, and birds. Some people are interested in things like birds. People like my dad.)

My favorite! Elephants!!!

Things that made me sad and happy (mostly happy)

Sad...the day my stash of delicious Three Hills honey ran out.

Happy...riding on motorcycles everywhere.

Happy...this girls buck-toothed smile.


Happy...a beneficiary still using her filter after five years and enjoying good health.


Happy...my friend Saida and her mom. I met Saida in 2001 during my first trip to Uganda and we have stayed in touch ever since. Saida made this wall hanging for my family. We love each other.

Work

One project we worked on during the month of October was shallow well construction.

The first step was to go with some community leaders to assess their current water source and the select a site for the new well. This mud puddle was the current source. Hard to wrap your mind around, eh?

The well was dug by volunteers and then the mason came to finish off the project. The community not only dug the hole and carried blocks to the site (heavy!) but pounded rocks into gravel by hand. That is some seriously hard work.

Carrying the blocks with the ladies.

Kind of like a barn raising. I really loved this day.

These guys dug this perfectly round hole (about 15 feet deep) BY HAND in a few days. They worked so incredibly hard. The picture is of the mason down in the hole beginning the brick work.

Children's Hygiene Fair

We created a Children's Hygiene Fair to hold at local primary schools in an effort to teach kids about good hygiene and sanitations practices. This is a shot of an assortment of SP staff and teachers from the school. I look quite happy because I'm so relieved the day was a success!

Here's my favorite game: toss the poop colored bean bag into the latrine slab. Moral of the story? Always use the latrine and not the bush (seriously, this is important, don't get grossed out).

Kids had to touch the paper latrine, and then run and touch a giant bar of soap and then a water can before running and scooping a spoonfull of beans into a pot. The lesson in all this? Wash your hands with soap and water after using the latine and before handling food.

Monica

Monica has now been home from the hospital for several weeks and is doing great! The burn is still healing, but the wound from her surbery has healed excellently well. Last week we drove out to her village to check on her, and we will continue to do so until her burn is completley healed.

Monica and I

This is Monica's great-grandma and caregiver. I really like her. She was SO happy to see us, but after saying "thank you" she hugged me for a long time and said, "Praise Jesus! Praise Jesus!" Amen, sister.

Monica just home from the hospital! Her great-grandma was so glad to have her back safe and sound.

Monica in the hospital prior to surgery with her Auntie Peace. Peace came along to take care of Monica even though she is VERY pregnant and left several small children at home to be taken care of by neighbors. She really is a hero.

Monica before her surgery.

Big Water...

This weekend was…eventful, to say the least. I want to bring you all up to speed with the highlights from the last few weeks, but let me begin with the last few days.

Melissa and I came into the capital city last week. We attended some staff meetings, which gave us some great opportunities to learn a bit more about the financial/administrative side of SP’s work here in Uganda. We also immediately started eating all the delicious food we could get our hands on, the memories of which will hopefully sustain us for the next month once we return to our steady diet of rice, beans and rice and beans. Then, came the big day. November 8th. The day I have been dreading for quite some time.

I have a very irrational fear of water. I don’t even jump off diving boards. I especially fear water that is 1) dark, and 2) fast moving. Now, in case you didn’t know, Uganda is home to the source of the Nile River. I have visited the Nile on my last two trips to Uganda, but I just sat on the bank, trembled at the water as it churned past me, and tried not to think about how awful it would be to fall in. The river is pretty wild at its source, and so it is hailed as one of the best white water rafting sites in the world. Back in Canada one of the staff advised me (and I quote), “Don’t go rafting on the Nile. I thought I was going to die.” She didn’t have to convince me. I had no desire to go rafting. Apparently, my fellow intern felt differently…and she convinced me to come along.

The night before our trip I barely slept. I would dream about rafting for 20 minutes and then wake up with my heart racing. I cannot begin to tell you how terrified I was. The stretch of the Nile we were to raft down is full of Class 5 rapids, which, I have learned, is code for “very large and ridiculously crazy”. The trip began with some training on a flat stretch of water, which was the scariest part of the day for me. Our guide told us to jump out of the raft so we could practice climbing back in. Jump out!? Into the dark river?! I had no choice, so I jumped. It wasn’t so bad. Then, once we climbed back in, our guide flipped the raft on purpose! I almost panicked, but it wasn’t so bad. (Later in the day I was very glad that we had the flipping drill.) Then, our guide told up to jump out again and float down through a Class 2 rapid on our backs. “This is the last straw!” I thought, but I had no choice. It wasn’t so bad. Actually, it was rather fun. So, after facing a number of my worst fears all in a row, we were off. Let me tell you, it was crazy. We wore helmets for a reason!

For those of you who have traveled to Uganda, the first Class 5 rapid we went over was Bugagali Falls. Ironically, that turned out to be the tamest Class 5 of the day. We charged through some crazy rapids (thankfully without flipping) and on the quiet stretches we could jump out and swim. That was pretty cool, floating on my back down the Nile.

We stopped for quick lunch on a little island, and then were off again. The next Class 5 we went through involved going down a 4 meter waterfall! Ordinarilly I wouldn't do something like that unless I was being forced against my will, but as we teetered at the top of the falls I realized the time for backing out had definitely passed so…over we went! We didn’t flip, and I was so happy to be alive I started high fiving everyone in the raft. After the waterfall we all got a lollipop. It was nice.The very last rapid of the day was called The Bad Place. I have never in my life seen a stretch of water so white, so crazy, so everything. This rapid even had parts that were Class 6 (which is code for “don’t even think about it”). Our guide warned us that we would probably flip, and as soon as we hit the top of the rapid his prediction came true. Only, we didn’t just flip, we were chewed up and spit out, tossed around like a dish rag, etc, etc. During the horrifying flip drill we had earlier in the day, our guide told us that if we held on to the safety rope we would just pop right back up and be able to do fun things like breath air. So, I held onto that rope for dear life and clung to our raft as it kicked and tossed its way down the rest of the rapid. No power on earth (i.e. a rabid Nile crocodile chewing on my leg) could have separated me from the safety rope at that point in time. I have never been so scared in my life, but I have never had so much fun. I cheered and laughed the whole way down in between dousing after dousing of white water. I would definitely do it again, but the thought of it makes my land lubbing little heart beat faster.

The day was great, so great in fact that Melissa wanted to stay a second day. So, she remained and I came back to the city. This is when I made The Fatal Mistake. I forgot to get our room key from Melissa. We have been staying at the SP guesthouse, which, I have learned, does not have spare keys to its rooms. So, I was locked out. No prob. I borrowed some PJ’s and a toothbrush, no big deal. However, the next day came and there was no Melissa. My cell phone was locked in my room along with everything else, and so I borrowed a phone to try calling…and calling…and calling. I called the rafting company- no accidents, no information, no sign of Melissa.

As the night wore on I became more and more worried. I talked with the Deputy Country Director (DCD) and he told me to get into my room using whatever means possible so that I could check my phone for messages. Now, Ugandan doors are usually made of some pretty sturdy wood, and due to my lack of karate lessons as a child, there was no way I could break it down. I asked our night guard for help and he stepped right up, tossing his AK-47 onto a pile of clean sheets and trying to chip away at the lock. At some point he even produced a pick axe. Very impressive. We weren’t having much luck, though, so he resorted to a new tactic. BEATING ON THE LOCK WITH THE BUTT OF HIS GUN! This left the barrel pointing directly at me, and I admit, this made me a little nervous. I could just see the gun going off and me dying a ridiculous death. I ran away and hid in the bathroom until he gave up on the AK and went back to the pick axe. After some time, I thanked him and told him he could go. Shortly after the DCD arrived. We decided to break down the little panel above the door, because I thought I might be able to squeeze through. I am going to guess that the space was about 3 feet wide and 1 foot high. It was tight, but I managed to wriggle through and retrieve my cell phone. No messages from Melissa. Anxiety increases. It is around 2am at this point. The DCD and I were trying to find phone numbers for hospitals, and he was trying to decide if we should go right then to the rafting site or what.

Around 2:30 I got a text from Melissa telling me that she had to stay another night at the river. Hadn’t I received her other text? No, I hadn’t. All because of The Fatal Mistake which separated me from my phone. I was glad she was alright but felt a bit ridiculous about the whole thing. I needlessly tried to break down a door with a pick axe. Seriously. Make sure you have your keys, people.

When I was hiding from the guard who was beating on the lock with his gun, I thought to myself, “This is new. I don’t really deal with things like this back home.” For the most part, life just happens here and I roll with the punches. However, every now and then something ridiculous happens and I wake up with a jolt and realize that I’m not in Kansas anymore. Another good example was during our staff meeting last week. We were talking about Christmas and our director said, “Kamwenge people, you had an Ebola outbreak last year. Did you manage to have your Christmas party before that happened?” I laughed out loud. Did you manage to have your Christmas party before the Ebola outbreak? Wow…

This is a picture of The Bad Place, although it doesn't do much to capture the horror. This isn't our raft, but this is more or less how it went down...

Strange weather...

Melissa and I call our room "The Bat Cave" for very literal reasons. It is dark and...has lots of bats. In addition to the bats we also reside with at least two mice. I know this because I have seen them running across our floor and because I once found one caught in my mosquito net (which I admit, was a low point for me personally). I have been adjusting to living with all these possibly disease ridden roommates, but recently an event occurred which was the proverbial last straw. It would seem that one of the mice has become a proud parent. How do we know? Well, a baby mouse fell from the rafters onto our floor. That's right...it is raining baby rodents in our room. Call me weak, but I have a problem with this. Solution? We're hoping to get a cat.

Monica had a second surgery yesterday to have some tissue from her thigh grafted onto her stump. I have not been able to get any information on how the surgery went, despite many attempted phone calls. I am praying that all went well; I should be able to find out some more information today. I have been thinking a lot about what the next move should be. Please pray that God will give me wisdom as I look into what option is the best for Monica.

This last week we were helping out with the building of a shallow well. The next time I am in Kampala (and have a reasonable Internet connection) I will post some pictures. The community has worked so incredibly hard to build their well. It really is an honor to work alongside them even in our small ways.

This next week we are launching our first "Hygiene Fair" at a local primary school. It is basically a morning for children filled with games, dramas, teaching and prizes all geared towards teaching the kids to practice better sanitation and hygiene. It is definitely an experiment but hopefully it goes well and we can hold several more before we leave.

On a very sad note, our driver and friend Amos has been expecting his first child. We have all been pretty excited about it, actually. Yesterday the baby was stillborn. He is so sad. We went and visited his wife this morning and she is doing well physically but they are missing their little daughter. If you could pray for this family as well I would really appreciate it.

We are hoping to go visit some SP projects up north this next month and do a few touristy things. All that to say my Internet access may be less than usual, but we'll see. Hope to be writing on here again soon.

An update...

Monica had her right hand amputated at the wrist yesterday. From what we hear she is doing well physically and spiritually. The surgeon will be evaluating her on Monday and hopefully she will be well enought to come back to our village health center. Infection is still an issue so keep praying. THANK YOU to those of you who are praying and who expressed interest in helping provide Monica with a prosthetic. I will keep you posted as I investigate the possibilities. I will put some pictures up when I have a faster connection.

An e-mail cut and pasted...

Dear family and friends,

This last Friday I was off in the bush doing follow-up with families who received filters in the past few months. Shortly after I arrived a grandmother came running up to my group with her granddaughter in tow. The granddaughter had a cloth covering her right arm and was crying. When the girl removed the cloth I saw the worst burn injury I have ever encountered. The girl has epilepsy and fell into the fire. Her whole forearm was badly burned and, because the injury was already over a week old, badly infected. The worst part, though, was her hand. The tissue was completely dead. I was so worried that this girl, around 16 years old, was going to go into septic shock. We raced her back to our village health center where the nurses graciously provided me with the things I needed to cleanse and dress the wound, and we started the girl on antibiotics. There was no doctor in our area and it was clear that this girl was in serious danger, and most likely in need of an amputation. We were able to drive her several hours Friday night to a hospital in a nearby town where she was admitted. We then returned home to our village.

We have been calling every day to check in and absolutely NOTHING was happening. This morning when we called we were told that the girl had STILL not even been seen by a doctor, and was still only taking the antibiotic tablets that I gave her. To make a long story short, my Ugandan friend and I took a taxi back to the city today. We found the girl right where we left her, lying on a plastic cot with a filthy, fly infested bandage covering her arm. (The state of that hospital is a rant for another time. Sufficed to say that walking through the burn unit was one of the most horrific experiences of my life). My friend has a sister who works in a private hospital here in the city and we decided to just go ahead and take the girl, who’s name is Monica, there instead of waiting indefinitely at the state hospital.

I cannot express how relieved I was once we arrived at the private hospital. I almost cried with relief. Clean, well-stocked, and the nurses and doctor’s showed such compassion and concern. Monica was seen and admitted right away and the surgeon was called almost immediately. Monica will have her right hand amputated today or tomorrow, Lord willing.

There have been so many miracles in this situation: finding Monica at all, my friend’s sister being a nurse here, even the fact that for the first time since I got to Uganda my bank card worked meaning that I would access funds to pay for the treatment at the private hospital. Truthfully, it is a miracle that Monica is even alive. Even the doctor commented on that. She should have gone septic days ago, but right now she is in a great hospital, clean and on IV antibiotics. Praise God! This is amazing.

The reason I am writing this e-mail, (and forgive its grammatical errors, I am at an internet café in town writing as fast as I can) is to let you know about a need that I am anticipating in this situation. Depending on where the doctor decides to amputate, Monica could still have some use of her hand if she receives a prosthetic. I briefly discussed the possibility of that with the doctor today, and she said that if someone funded the project it was very possible to arrange.

At this point in time I really have no idea how much this would cost and what it would all entail. I will get more details tomorrow when we return to the hospital. If any one of you would be interested in donating some funds to getting Monica a prosthetic hand, please let me know and I will give you all the details. This is early and disjointed, I know, but everything takes forever to get moving here and I want to get started. I will send another e-mail this weekend with more details, particularly after I talk with the surgeon.

Talk to you all later this week,
Keren

How A Filter Grows...Part II

Before a filter leaves the construction sight it is numbered and labelled.

As an aside, this is where I live. Quite pretty, I think.

As another aside, I never expected to trade in my sterile gloves and catheter kits for this stuff!

Okay, back to the filter.

The filter gets to stay at the construction sight for at least one week in order to fully cure. After that, it's time for the little guy to make his (sometimes arduous) trip to his new home!

At the beneficiary's house the filter waits for the installation technicians to come and set it up. It gets washed out, like in this picture, and then a level spot is found or made inside the house for the filter to stand on.

Next the gravel and sand layers are added and we check the flow rate to see if the filter will work properly.

Then it's time to mark the filter's location with the GPS so we can find it again for follow-up (no road signs out here).

After receiving education on how to use and maintain his filter, the beneficiary signs a form saying that he did indeed get his filter installed.

How A Filter Grows...Part I

First you have to put together the mould and attach the riser pipe to the inside.

Then you sift the gravel, sift the sand, sift, sift, sift...

Then it's time to mix up the concrete and fill up the mould.

Next, you hit the mould with a rubber mallet to get all the air bubbles out. This takes forever. You may be able to tell from my expression that this is not my favorite part of the job.

Once the moulds are full we let them harden overnight! The next day the moulds come off and the whole process starts over again.

I had every intention of putting together a blog today about the ins and outs of the filter building/installation process. I took all the pictures these last two weeks, starting composing the captions, etc. However, I forgot my power converter and my battery is about to go. Next week, seriously. It's going to be great! Colorful, informative. Words fail me.

On another note, turns out I have malaria. I am actually relieved because you can take medication for malaria and start feeling better quite quickly. Please pray that I will be back on my feet soon and that I won't get it again. I am thankful for a good clinic to visit and the medicine I need. I love you guys!

I promise, I will soon grace the pages of this blog with some pictures. Sadly, I forgot to bring along my camera cord this weekend so it will have to wait.

This last week Melissa and I spent our mornings in filter construction and our afternoons in language lessons. The construction site we were at has four moulds, so we built four filters a day. A couple of beneficiaries would come from the community to build their own filters, and we would build the rest. It felt good to dust off some of those manual labour skills from my job with the Town of Three Hills a couple of years ago. I am still infinitely weaker that my Ugandan coworkers but they were very gracious and let me be involved in all the aspects of construction. I feel pretty confident now about the actual construction of a filter. This next week we will be focusing more on properly installing them, and I am looking forward to learning more about that aspect of the BSF as well.

If you have ever had any cross-cultural training I’m sure you have heard of the different stages of culture shock. The honeymoon, rejection, acceptance, adaptation, etc, etc. The first time I came to Uganda in 2001 I was just moving into the acceptance phase when it was time for me to leave. When I returned in 2006 I remember being pleasantly surprised that I was picking up where I left off. I felt comfortable and safe, and at home in a small sense. By the time I was getting ready to leave I was starting to think about building life in a totally new culture. Now I am back in Uganda for a third time and once again picking up where I left off, thinking about living and working here for years instead of months. I know that I can adjust to no running water, no electricity, no phones or supermarkets. My fear is loneliness, and I don’t know if I can adjust to that.

Whenever I leave the privacy of my house I am instantly a spectacle. When I walk down the street I am bombarded by the constant shouts and greetings of almost everyone I pass. I know that every conversation is about me as I walk by. I know that hundreds of eyes are staring in my direction, curious, leering, suspicious, delighted. This last week, in a hushed voice, one of my coworkers asked my partner and I how we could get him to Canada. My heart sank. I am still just a mzungu, an opportunity, a pile of money, a white. That is how it feels, at least. It all makes me wonder if I can ever really enter into a community here. How long do I have to stay before I will become a person with a name and a personality and not just a skin tone? Is it possible?

These questions are heavy on my heart as I ponder God’s direction for my future. I think of the rich community of friends, family and church that I have in Canada and I experience the loss of my familiar feeling of belonging. However, instead of seeing this experience as something that is robbing me of my community, I want to see is as an opportunity to expand my community. I want to learn how to do that. I want to have faith that wherever God sends me is where I belong. I want to learn that it is impossible for me to be alone.

About time for a new post, I'd say!

I imagine that pretty much everyone who will be reading this blog knows this already, but just in case....I have been here in Uganda for almost two weeks. I am working as an intern in Samaritan's Purse Canada Water for Life until the beginning of February 2009. Currently I am living about nine hours west of the capital city in a tiny village called Ntara. Currently SP have two construction sites near there where teams of local technicians are assisting people in the community to build their own biosand water filters. Currently my fellow intern (Melissa) and I have been spending our time in language learning to a few others things, but in this next week we will be meeting with our program manager to set some goals and determine where exactly we will fit in the project here.

The staff here are amazing! They are so knowledgeable and hard working. Plus, they are willing to uproot themselves and move fairly regularly in order to best serve the people they are trying to reach.

Our boss out here on the field likes to say, "Africa! Adventure unlimited!" True, true. Life in Ntara has been a bit of an adventure for me so far. I am adjusting to the "rustic" conditions and the amazing number of bugs and other creatures that I have never seen before. It is funny how quickly completely foreign things become your new normal, though. I am SO excited to really get into the work here and build relationships. Melissa and I are really enjoying getting to know the people we will be working with. Most of them are around our age and I hope we can become great friends. I think we will.

It feels like the time is already flying, and I want to make sure I get everything I can out of this time! God has been challenging me to evaluate my motivations and my philosophy of ministry, and I hope that five months from now some great heart changes will have taken place.

Well, Facebook is calling so I will conclude this chapter. I miss you guys so much! Love you a lot....

There's a man in the Bible who's name is Jacob. His name means "the deceiver". He lies in order to steal his brother's birthright, and then runs for his life to a new place where he is deceived into marrying a girl he doesn't want. This pattern of deception seems to follow him. Then, one day, he decides to return to his father's home. God meets him on the banks of a river one night and they wrestle. They wrestle all night; Jacob won't let up. Finally, when dawn is about to break, God has to dislocate Jacob's hip so he'll stop fighting. But Jacob won't let go until God blesses Him. So, God does, and He changes Jacob's name to Israel, which means, "he wrestles with God".

Months ago, when I decided to start this blog, I called it "Not Like Jacob" because I wanted to have a place where I could work out my thoughts as I tried to be an Israel; a wrestler. At the beginning of this last year I felt betrayed by God. I was horrified that I could even feel that way, but I did. It was like the injustice and suffering and confusion that I had seen in my travels, compounded by all the things I didn't understand about my own life, all caught up with me at once. Throughout the last twelve months God has been leading me through some waters that have felt very deep, helping me to find peace and rest in a world that is not my home. And while the circumstances have changed which initially prompted me to start this blog, I still want to keep wrestling. By not acknowledging my fears and questions and struggles, which I know are bound to come, I lie to Him. And part of His blessing to me is to let me bring all my turmoil to His feet and ask, "What does all this mean?" And I know that the point will come where He will see that I am going to keep wrestling beyond what is actually helpful to me, and then He will stop me and say, "Because I am God." And that will be enough.

My second motivation in making this blog is to create a record of what God has done and what He is doing. I am about to start living a dream that I have held dear to my heart for years and I know that God is going to do great, awful, wonderful things. I guess I want to keep a record for myself as much as for you all. C.S. Lewis wrote that God has "paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us", meaning that He loves us so truly that He is determined to make us into masterpieces- which takes time, joy, pain, effort, reshaping and even restarting sometimes. I know that this is what God is doing for me and I want to remember it all.