A guy named Adam came through Kampala while I was in the States and did some filming. I never got to meet him, but I just watched a sneak preview of the film he's making and I was pretty impressed.
Shake the Dust is the title of it, and its about the hip hop/ break dancing culture in unlikely places around the world. From Uganda he went to Yemen... definitely not what I would think of as a hip hop capital. So not only is it a cool concept, but I think this clip captures a really great glimpse of Kampala. To me, this video kindles a fondness in my heart for this place and I think its because of the familiarity of all the scenes. Owino Market. The football fields. The taxi park. A neighborhood that looks just like mine.
This is it.
Enjoy.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
not easy
We've started a book club of sorts here in Kampala.... A group of fellow Americans are going through Tim Keller's book Generous Justice, and even though we're only in our second week, its brought up some very interesting/challenging conversations.
As we were talking the other night, a really hard truth to face came up. It was this....
It's easier to love on African orphans and widows than the truly marginalized in my own society.
At least this is the case for me.
For some people, coming to live in Uganda would seem like this massive sacrifice. I suppose it is in some ways, but I don't really view it that way... I'm doing work that I absolutely love, I'm traveling, experiencing a new culture... Being in Uganda is quite enjoyable for me. In fact, I can safely say that there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be at this point in time. So when some people back in the States talk about how brave I am or how sacrificial, it puzzles me a bit. But I do understand that this isn't every one's "thing." All that to say, working with widows and orphans (most of Sseko's employees fall into this category) in Uganda isn't something that makes me squeamish or hesitant or consider telling God "nope, sorry... not goin' there!" But there are other things that do make me feel that way... and they shouldn't.
A few people in our group of friends even said that they would have a harder time if God called them to live in the States than if he kept them abroad. {disclaimer: I realize that this group of people is not typical.... and that since they are already ex-pats this point of view isn't all that surprising.} But between all of us, the question came up of do we have to be abroad to be living out what we believe about social justice?
And the answer we came to was no.... no, you don't have to go to Africa to be involved in social justice. God's command is for us to show love to the marginalized in society, including the American society I come from. And sometimes its even harder to do in your own backyard.
During this conversation, I was struck with the example of my friend, Kellie, whom I had the pleasure of living with for most of Christmas break.
Kellie hangs out with strippers.
She brought an organization to College Station, Texas, called Jesus Said Love. The whole premise of this small group of people is to build relationships with women who work in the local strip clubs. First of all, I've never heard of anyone talking to strippers before... I feel like for the most part even talking about them is taboo. We like to keep things like this at arms length... pretend that the Silk Stocking strip joint isn't just around the corner. I've honestly never once thought about the women who work there, who are inevitably living in my community.
But Kellie talks to them. She buys them Christmas presents. She prays for them. She gets coffee with them. She hangs out with them in the club before business picks up. I admire Kellie.... because for me, the idea of coming to Uganda and living out social justice here seems far easier than doing it in College Station, Texas, where the marginalized happen to be strippers.
I think a little part of that is the fact that the poor are often romanticized... I find this to be especially true of the African poor. But you can't really romanticize the idea of hanging out with strippers. It's more raw... gritty. And ultimately, when you get to Uganda and actually get to know members of the group of people you thought of as "the poor," you see that it isn't all that romantic after all. Some of them are happy and joyful (like you see in the non-profit ad's). But some of them are tough and sassy. Some of them are lazy and rude. Just like people anywhere else, they aren't all the same.
I guess its just funny to think that one way to live out social justice is trendier or more attractive than another... I'm just grateful to have people like Kellie in my life to challenge my view of social justice and to go against the grain in the way they approach it.
As we were talking the other night, a really hard truth to face came up. It was this....
It's easier to love on African orphans and widows than the truly marginalized in my own society.
At least this is the case for me.
For some people, coming to live in Uganda would seem like this massive sacrifice. I suppose it is in some ways, but I don't really view it that way... I'm doing work that I absolutely love, I'm traveling, experiencing a new culture... Being in Uganda is quite enjoyable for me. In fact, I can safely say that there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be at this point in time. So when some people back in the States talk about how brave I am or how sacrificial, it puzzles me a bit. But I do understand that this isn't every one's "thing." All that to say, working with widows and orphans (most of Sseko's employees fall into this category) in Uganda isn't something that makes me squeamish or hesitant or consider telling God "nope, sorry... not goin' there!" But there are other things that do make me feel that way... and they shouldn't.
A few people in our group of friends even said that they would have a harder time if God called them to live in the States than if he kept them abroad. {disclaimer: I realize that this group of people is not typical.... and that since they are already ex-pats this point of view isn't all that surprising.} But between all of us, the question came up of do we have to be abroad to be living out what we believe about social justice?
And the answer we came to was no.... no, you don't have to go to Africa to be involved in social justice. God's command is for us to show love to the marginalized in society, including the American society I come from. And sometimes its even harder to do in your own backyard.
During this conversation, I was struck with the example of my friend, Kellie, whom I had the pleasure of living with for most of Christmas break.
Kellie hangs out with strippers.
She brought an organization to College Station, Texas, called Jesus Said Love. The whole premise of this small group of people is to build relationships with women who work in the local strip clubs. First of all, I've never heard of anyone talking to strippers before... I feel like for the most part even talking about them is taboo. We like to keep things like this at arms length... pretend that the Silk Stocking strip joint isn't just around the corner. I've honestly never once thought about the women who work there, who are inevitably living in my community.
But Kellie talks to them. She buys them Christmas presents. She prays for them. She gets coffee with them. She hangs out with them in the club before business picks up. I admire Kellie.... because for me, the idea of coming to Uganda and living out social justice here seems far easier than doing it in College Station, Texas, where the marginalized happen to be strippers.
I think a little part of that is the fact that the poor are often romanticized... I find this to be especially true of the African poor. But you can't really romanticize the idea of hanging out with strippers. It's more raw... gritty. And ultimately, when you get to Uganda and actually get to know members of the group of people you thought of as "the poor," you see that it isn't all that romantic after all. Some of them are happy and joyful (like you see in the non-profit ad's). But some of them are tough and sassy. Some of them are lazy and rude. Just like people anywhere else, they aren't all the same.
I guess its just funny to think that one way to live out social justice is trendier or more attractive than another... I'm just grateful to have people like Kellie in my life to challenge my view of social justice and to go against the grain in the way they approach it.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
NOT charity
I work for a company.... This is a simple fact, but it is commonly misunderstood. A lot of people seem to think that if you're doing something in Africa it obviously must be a charity or a non-profit of some sort. But that's not what Sseko is. We are a social business. And a lot of our fellow expats either work for similar companies or understand the concept of what we are doing.... But I've found that this is at times difficult to explain to Ugandans. The only interaction many of them have had with white people is through charity, i.e. hand-outs.
This past week I was faced with an instance of this misunderstanding. Right now at Sseko we are undergoing a lot of changes and one of those is the method in which we pay our women. It was my job to explain the change to them and then have one on one meetings to answer any questions or concerns. I met with a woman who is one of the "aunties" who works for us. She started working for Sseko last spring and before that had been doing a little bead making on the side for a local widows group.
This woman came to me and I told her again the rough amount she would be paid each month (depending on if she met her work production or not), and it was actually more than she had been making in the past.... but she had some questions for me.... She wanted to know if she would be getting any extra money to pay for transportation since she lived far away. {Note: this woman has lived far away for her entire employment and has never received extra money for transport}
I told her that the policy was as it always had been and that she would have to pay for her transport out of her wages, because it would be unfair for us to pay her more just because she lived farther when she was doing the exact same work as the other women who work for Sseko. And then a phrase came out of my mouth that I had never put together before... I said "Pay at Sseko is based on work, not on need." That was the first time I was truly able to articulate the difference between what we do as a social business and what the traditional charities these women have had past experience with do....
For some time I have known that no matter how much we pay the widowed aunties who work for us, it will never be enough. One of them is HIV positive, has a daughter that is as well, and nine other children of her own to care for.... not to mention some of her children's children, and other extended family form whom she is responsible. The culture here is incredibly community based, and everyone is responsible for everyone else.... so even if these women were getting paid the salary of a government official, it wouldn't be enough.
But these women aren't getting paid the salaries of government officials.... that would be utterly ridiculous. They are relatively uneducated, have little work experience, and one of them barely speaks English and is illiterate. They are getting paid the equivalent of a teacher's salary to make shoes, which is more than they would make doing anything else... Working with Sseko is a pretty amazing opportunity for them, and they know that and are so appreciative for the jobs we have provided for them. But, there come times like these when I have to yet again explain that we are employers. Sseko is not a charity. We are certainly understanding to our employees and their needs, but I'll say again that pay at Sseko is based on work, not on need.
It's honestly almost a relief for me to be able to put that into words.... because at times the line gets blurred and when I personally know these women, I wish I could cater to all their needs. But I can't afford to and neither can Sseko... what we can do is give them great jobs and a way to earn a living... what we can give is opportunity.
This past week I was faced with an instance of this misunderstanding. Right now at Sseko we are undergoing a lot of changes and one of those is the method in which we pay our women. It was my job to explain the change to them and then have one on one meetings to answer any questions or concerns. I met with a woman who is one of the "aunties" who works for us. She started working for Sseko last spring and before that had been doing a little bead making on the side for a local widows group.
This woman came to me and I told her again the rough amount she would be paid each month (depending on if she met her work production or not), and it was actually more than she had been making in the past.... but she had some questions for me.... She wanted to know if she would be getting any extra money to pay for transportation since she lived far away. {Note: this woman has lived far away for her entire employment and has never received extra money for transport}
I told her that the policy was as it always had been and that she would have to pay for her transport out of her wages, because it would be unfair for us to pay her more just because she lived farther when she was doing the exact same work as the other women who work for Sseko. And then a phrase came out of my mouth that I had never put together before... I said "Pay at Sseko is based on work, not on need." That was the first time I was truly able to articulate the difference between what we do as a social business and what the traditional charities these women have had past experience with do....
For some time I have known that no matter how much we pay the widowed aunties who work for us, it will never be enough. One of them is HIV positive, has a daughter that is as well, and nine other children of her own to care for.... not to mention some of her children's children, and other extended family form whom she is responsible. The culture here is incredibly community based, and everyone is responsible for everyone else.... so even if these women were getting paid the salary of a government official, it wouldn't be enough.
But these women aren't getting paid the salaries of government officials.... that would be utterly ridiculous. They are relatively uneducated, have little work experience, and one of them barely speaks English and is illiterate. They are getting paid the equivalent of a teacher's salary to make shoes, which is more than they would make doing anything else... Working with Sseko is a pretty amazing opportunity for them, and they know that and are so appreciative for the jobs we have provided for them. But, there come times like these when I have to yet again explain that we are employers. Sseko is not a charity. We are certainly understanding to our employees and their needs, but I'll say again that pay at Sseko is based on work, not on need.
It's honestly almost a relief for me to be able to put that into words.... because at times the line gets blurred and when I personally know these women, I wish I could cater to all their needs. But I can't afford to and neither can Sseko... what we can do is give them great jobs and a way to earn a living... what we can give is opportunity.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
T.I.A.
This is Africa.... I heard the abbreviation for this phrase for the first time after moving to Kampala. We say this when ridiculous things happen that would only happen in Africa.... like say this.
In case you can't tell, I'll explain what this is. The lock on this window has been broken since we moved in seven months ago. Last week a repairman came to fix the lock. Apparently, he couldn't reach the screws he needed to in order to install new ones from the angle he was at inside the room. He told me he was having trouble with the window.... but I just told him to keep trying harder. What do I know about fixing a window? That's what I called him for!
Anyways... I was out of the house when he finished the job and when I came back, that was what I found. Yes, its just what it looks like. He punched holes in the glass and put the screws in from the outside.
So now we have a window that locks..... but it has two holes punched through the glass. For some reason, the repairman thought this a job well-done.
T.I.A.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
travel diaries
Good news: for my 15 hour flight to Dubai I got a free upgrade to business class. Yes, that's right. Instead of sitting squashed and upright back in coach, I was reclining in front of a 24 inch TV wearing complimentary sound-blocking headphones and eating cheesecake. Best travel experience ever.
Over the past 7 months, I've had some pretty interesting travel experiences.... Unexpected, funny, and unfortunate things tend to happen when traveling... especially when travelling in Uganda. A couple months ago, I was taking a bus up to Mbale, and arrived at the bus park in Kampala about 15 minutes before the friends I was meeting up with for travelling.
First I need to describe the bus park. As soon as you pull onto the side road where it is located, men working for the bus company swarm your boda and demand to know where you are travelling to. Once you tell them your desired destination, about three or four of them will stick around and try to pull you onto their perspective buses. One wants you to go on the Kampala Coach, the other says you should board the Elgon Flyer bus. How's a girl supposed to know which bus to take when four men are all demanding that you take each of their buses?
The other noteworthy thing about the bus park is that there are no scheduled departure times. You don't know when they're leaving, and they don't even know when they're leaving. Buses don't leave until they fill up. So you might choose a bus and when you get on realize that you're the only sucker that's on board, and that it will probably be about 3 hours until it fills up and leaves.
On this particular day, when I was headed to Mbale, I did not want to make that mistake... especially because I was still waiting for the rest of my group. And I really didn't want to be on a different bus than them. So, instead of immediately boarding a bus, I attempted to wait..... which, believe me, was more difficult than it sounds. As I was standing in front of the four bus options, all of the conductors were harassing me and demanding that I buy tickets onto their buses. I kept saying, "okay, okay, I'll decide when my friends get here." And, trying to make a sale, the men kept saying that they would tell my friends which bus I got on. (yeah, right). The boldest one even wrote me out a ticket and kept trying to shove it into my hand. And then, he stole my pillow. That's right. He snatched my pillow and ran on board his bus to hold it hostage there so I would choose his bus.
Now, if you want me to board your bus, stealing my pillow is the last thing you should do.... because it just made me really irritated. The other bus company rep's saw this and then turned on each other. They started saying things like..."he's a liar and a cheat!"..."his bus doesn't leave until the afternoon!".... "don't listen to him, his bus is completely empty!".... They were all turning and pointing fingers, so I naturally turned to the one guy who hadn't been accused of lying to me about bus times and I asked him when his left. He said 9:00.... and I said "really 9:00? even if the bus isn't full?" ... and to my surprise, he replied "yes." So, it looked like I had found my bus, and at that moment my friends pulled up on bodas and all the men turned and started to repeat the swarming process I had just been through.
I called them over to me and suggested the bus of the guy I had just been talking to, and the other conductors were quite put out. One of the more aggressive ones kept trying to grab my friends and pull them to his bus. He grabbed my friend, Kelsey, by the wrist and she slapped it away, scolding "Don't touch me!" He proceeded to make a scene, yelling "WHO ARE YOU? WHO ARE YOU? I can touch you if I want to!"
So while this man was still yelling, the conductors of the bus we had chosen made a blockade for us so we could board it without further harassment. I never would have thought that simply waiting 15 minute for my friends to show up and then boarding a bus could be so dramatic. But that's travelling in Uganda for you.
Over the past month, I travelled a good bit during my time in the US. I went all over Texas and I flew to Colorado.... all without anything remarkable happening. The Ugandan method of travel-chaos seemed a distant memory when I stepped foot in Kampala a few days ago. But I was quickly reminded that I was in Uganda.
After picking up my four pieces of luggage, I had to go through another security check point where they x-ray all your baggage. An entire plane-full of people started crowding the area. People would push their carts ahead of you, and completely bypass the line-type-grouping that was forming. I use the word line in the loosest interpretation possible.... it was a mass of people all trying to push their way through an x-ray machine. This commotion was familiar to me, but not to this Australian guy next to me, who became quite overwhelmed by all the people cutting him in line, and said (so read the following in an Australian accent): "Look's like we've got some queue jumpers here!" And I had to inform him that, unfortunately, there is no such thing as a queue in Africa.
And that was my welcome back to the Ugandan way of travel..... And oddly enough, it's good to be back!
Over the past 7 months, I've had some pretty interesting travel experiences.... Unexpected, funny, and unfortunate things tend to happen when traveling... especially when travelling in Uganda. A couple months ago, I was taking a bus up to Mbale, and arrived at the bus park in Kampala about 15 minutes before the friends I was meeting up with for travelling.
First I need to describe the bus park. As soon as you pull onto the side road where it is located, men working for the bus company swarm your boda and demand to know where you are travelling to. Once you tell them your desired destination, about three or four of them will stick around and try to pull you onto their perspective buses. One wants you to go on the Kampala Coach, the other says you should board the Elgon Flyer bus. How's a girl supposed to know which bus to take when four men are all demanding that you take each of their buses?
The other noteworthy thing about the bus park is that there are no scheduled departure times. You don't know when they're leaving, and they don't even know when they're leaving. Buses don't leave until they fill up. So you might choose a bus and when you get on realize that you're the only sucker that's on board, and that it will probably be about 3 hours until it fills up and leaves.
On this particular day, when I was headed to Mbale, I did not want to make that mistake... especially because I was still waiting for the rest of my group. And I really didn't want to be on a different bus than them. So, instead of immediately boarding a bus, I attempted to wait..... which, believe me, was more difficult than it sounds. As I was standing in front of the four bus options, all of the conductors were harassing me and demanding that I buy tickets onto their buses. I kept saying, "okay, okay, I'll decide when my friends get here." And, trying to make a sale, the men kept saying that they would tell my friends which bus I got on. (yeah, right). The boldest one even wrote me out a ticket and kept trying to shove it into my hand. And then, he stole my pillow. That's right. He snatched my pillow and ran on board his bus to hold it hostage there so I would choose his bus.
Now, if you want me to board your bus, stealing my pillow is the last thing you should do.... because it just made me really irritated. The other bus company rep's saw this and then turned on each other. They started saying things like..."he's a liar and a cheat!"..."his bus doesn't leave until the afternoon!".... "don't listen to him, his bus is completely empty!".... They were all turning and pointing fingers, so I naturally turned to the one guy who hadn't been accused of lying to me about bus times and I asked him when his left. He said 9:00.... and I said "really 9:00? even if the bus isn't full?" ... and to my surprise, he replied "yes." So, it looked like I had found my bus, and at that moment my friends pulled up on bodas and all the men turned and started to repeat the swarming process I had just been through.
I called them over to me and suggested the bus of the guy I had just been talking to, and the other conductors were quite put out. One of the more aggressive ones kept trying to grab my friends and pull them to his bus. He grabbed my friend, Kelsey, by the wrist and she slapped it away, scolding "Don't touch me!" He proceeded to make a scene, yelling "WHO ARE YOU? WHO ARE YOU? I can touch you if I want to!"
So while this man was still yelling, the conductors of the bus we had chosen made a blockade for us so we could board it without further harassment. I never would have thought that simply waiting 15 minute for my friends to show up and then boarding a bus could be so dramatic. But that's travelling in Uganda for you.
Over the past month, I travelled a good bit during my time in the US. I went all over Texas and I flew to Colorado.... all without anything remarkable happening. The Ugandan method of travel-chaos seemed a distant memory when I stepped foot in Kampala a few days ago. But I was quickly reminded that I was in Uganda.
After picking up my four pieces of luggage, I had to go through another security check point where they x-ray all your baggage. An entire plane-full of people started crowding the area. People would push their carts ahead of you, and completely bypass the line-type-grouping that was forming. I use the word line in the loosest interpretation possible.... it was a mass of people all trying to push their way through an x-ray machine. This commotion was familiar to me, but not to this Australian guy next to me, who became quite overwhelmed by all the people cutting him in line, and said (so read the following in an Australian accent): "Look's like we've got some queue jumpers here!" And I had to inform him that, unfortunately, there is no such thing as a queue in Africa.
And that was my welcome back to the Ugandan way of travel..... And oddly enough, it's good to be back!
Sunday, December 5, 2010
good ole america
I'm back in the States for the holidays... and it's been pretty great. I keep getting asked if I'm having culture shock, and my answer is always "not so much..." Since I grew up here, there isn't anything that's really been "shocking." America does feel a little like Stepford now though.... the roads are paved beautifully, everyone follows the traffic laws, there is no trash littering the landscape... Just little things like that make this country feel extra-pristine. But there have been a few funny things that I didn't expect.
I walked into DSW shoe store on one of my first days back and got totally overwhelmed when I stepped in the door. There are so. many. shoes. So many. I could ask for a pair of grey boots and they could bring me 27 different options. In Uganda, you'd be lucky to stumble upon a single pair of grey boots, and they probably wouldn't be in your size. There are so many choices here, not just for shoes but for everything. There is a whole aisle in the grocery store devoted to cereal. And those familiar American brands I get so excited to see are everywhere. Duncan Hines cake mix. Every flavor imaginable, and guess what? It's there today and it will be there tomorrow, and the next day, and the next month. My favorite brand of crackers. It's not going anywhere. This is a common problem I've faced in Uganda... I find a brand of something that I like and the next time I go to the store it's gone, only to resurface at a different store across town after about a month or so.
The other big things I've had to get used to is all the white people. I know, it sounds strange.... because I'm white. But seeing another white person in my neighborhood in Kampala rarely ever happens, and spotting other muzungus around the city happens occasionally. Because of this, I've gotten into the habit of scoping them out... Sometimes I try to guess where they're from or I make up a story in my head about what has brought them to Kampala and what they're doing in the city. Doing this when I see other white people has become quite a habit after 6 months of it.... its become a pretty automatic thing. But that creates a problem when white people are everywhere. It means that I'm on sensory overload when I'm in big crowds, or driving, or basically anywhere in public. I'm constantly scanning the crowd and watching all the people. And it's gotten kind of exhausting. I'm on white-people overload here in America. A funny and unexpected adjustment to make.
But so far its been the simple, normal things of daily life in America that have been the most enjoyable. I was skyping with Julie and she asked me what my favorite moment had been so far, and it was this: sitting on the floor of my friend Kellie's room while we went through her closet, picking through her old clothes. I sat on the carpet with her roommates and for about an hour we just laughed as new articles of clothing were presented and either rejected or passed. Its the little day-to-day, seemingly so normal, things like this that I miss the most.
It's good to be back in the States. Strange in some ways, familiar in others. But its definitely been a good vacation so far.
I walked into DSW shoe store on one of my first days back and got totally overwhelmed when I stepped in the door. There are so. many. shoes. So many. I could ask for a pair of grey boots and they could bring me 27 different options. In Uganda, you'd be lucky to stumble upon a single pair of grey boots, and they probably wouldn't be in your size. There are so many choices here, not just for shoes but for everything. There is a whole aisle in the grocery store devoted to cereal. And those familiar American brands I get so excited to see are everywhere. Duncan Hines cake mix. Every flavor imaginable, and guess what? It's there today and it will be there tomorrow, and the next day, and the next month. My favorite brand of crackers. It's not going anywhere. This is a common problem I've faced in Uganda... I find a brand of something that I like and the next time I go to the store it's gone, only to resurface at a different store across town after about a month or so.
The other big things I've had to get used to is all the white people. I know, it sounds strange.... because I'm white. But seeing another white person in my neighborhood in Kampala rarely ever happens, and spotting other muzungus around the city happens occasionally. Because of this, I've gotten into the habit of scoping them out... Sometimes I try to guess where they're from or I make up a story in my head about what has brought them to Kampala and what they're doing in the city. Doing this when I see other white people has become quite a habit after 6 months of it.... its become a pretty automatic thing. But that creates a problem when white people are everywhere. It means that I'm on sensory overload when I'm in big crowds, or driving, or basically anywhere in public. I'm constantly scanning the crowd and watching all the people. And it's gotten kind of exhausting. I'm on white-people overload here in America. A funny and unexpected adjustment to make.
But so far its been the simple, normal things of daily life in America that have been the most enjoyable. I was skyping with Julie and she asked me what my favorite moment had been so far, and it was this: sitting on the floor of my friend Kellie's room while we went through her closet, picking through her old clothes. I sat on the carpet with her roommates and for about an hour we just laughed as new articles of clothing were presented and either rejected or passed. Its the little day-to-day, seemingly so normal, things like this that I miss the most.
It's good to be back in the States. Strange in some ways, familiar in others. But its definitely been a good vacation so far.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
the outsiders
Since moving to Kampala, I've been exposed to a lot of really great organizations and companies doing some pretty amazing things development-wise..... But many of these sources of development are headed up by Americans or Europeans.... outsiders.
Because of this, I've been led to consider a rather uncomfortable question.... If most of these organizations are initiated by outsiders, do Ugandans care about the restoration of their own country?
And the truth is they do. During my time here, I've had some pretty sweet examples of this. It definitely isn't the most prominent thing I see, and I think its natural that I'm exposed to more efforts made by outsiders since I am one myself. But I wanted to share a couple examples I've seen recently.
A few weeks ago in church, a Ugandan family got up on stage for a baby dedication. This was a special case apparently because they were asked to share their story with the whole church, which ended up being incredible. The new mother shared, and one of the first things she said was that her new son was adopted from one of the local babies' homes. They already had a couple children of their own, but they had felt that God was laying on their hearts to adopt, and this little baby boy came into their lives soon after that. He was only a couple weeks old, but he already had some health problems... These medical issues worsened after he came home with them, and they were in and out of the hospital for about a month. Then they ended up needing to go to South Africa for treatment and surgery, because it got so serious and life-threatening. But now their son is just fine, and recovering really well.
Hearing this family speak touched my heart because I know of quite a few families from my home church who have adopted and passed their heart for adoption on to me. I just think it is such a beautiful image of what God has done for us... this family adopted a little boy that they new had some pretty serious issues. He was broken, but that didn't stop them from loving him. And they went through great lengths to care for him... Trips to South Africa and medical bills are not cheap, but when this woman was up on stage sharing her story, I could tell that cost was the last thing on her mind- she was tearing up just at the memory of how hard it had been to have to face the possibility of losing this little boy. And I think one of the best things about all this is that its not some American family that has swooped in and "rescued" this child... Its a Ugandan family, caring deeply for a Ugandan orphan.
And just this week, I had the opportunity to witness another example of Ugandans promoting the restoration of their country. I went to a benefit concert for the international hospital here, and the crowd was made of maybe 30% ex-pats, but was mostly attended by Ugandans. I went with my roommates, and it was so cool to be doing something so typical of our lives in America, but in Uganda. In the states, I've been to numerous benefit concerts, special events, and African Children's choir performances to raise money for some cause in Africa. But this event was held in Uganda for the local hospital. It was just so much more meaningful to see Ugandans responding to needs in their own country than Americans reaching into their pockets to support a cause across the ocean.
There can be a tendency for people here to get into mindset that the white-man will just come in and fix everything for us... the whites will build us hospitals, and care for our orphans, and construct clean wells, and they will take care of us. I love seeing that mindset combated. It is my prayer that more and more Ugandans will drop that old mindset and pick up this new one that takes ownership of the issues in their country... and that more and more people would strive to rebuild and restore this place in any way they can.
Because of this, I've been led to consider a rather uncomfortable question.... If most of these organizations are initiated by outsiders, do Ugandans care about the restoration of their own country?
And the truth is they do. During my time here, I've had some pretty sweet examples of this. It definitely isn't the most prominent thing I see, and I think its natural that I'm exposed to more efforts made by outsiders since I am one myself. But I wanted to share a couple examples I've seen recently.
A few weeks ago in church, a Ugandan family got up on stage for a baby dedication. This was a special case apparently because they were asked to share their story with the whole church, which ended up being incredible. The new mother shared, and one of the first things she said was that her new son was adopted from one of the local babies' homes. They already had a couple children of their own, but they had felt that God was laying on their hearts to adopt, and this little baby boy came into their lives soon after that. He was only a couple weeks old, but he already had some health problems... These medical issues worsened after he came home with them, and they were in and out of the hospital for about a month. Then they ended up needing to go to South Africa for treatment and surgery, because it got so serious and life-threatening. But now their son is just fine, and recovering really well.
Hearing this family speak touched my heart because I know of quite a few families from my home church who have adopted and passed their heart for adoption on to me. I just think it is such a beautiful image of what God has done for us... this family adopted a little boy that they new had some pretty serious issues. He was broken, but that didn't stop them from loving him. And they went through great lengths to care for him... Trips to South Africa and medical bills are not cheap, but when this woman was up on stage sharing her story, I could tell that cost was the last thing on her mind- she was tearing up just at the memory of how hard it had been to have to face the possibility of losing this little boy. And I think one of the best things about all this is that its not some American family that has swooped in and "rescued" this child... Its a Ugandan family, caring deeply for a Ugandan orphan.
And just this week, I had the opportunity to witness another example of Ugandans promoting the restoration of their country. I went to a benefit concert for the international hospital here, and the crowd was made of maybe 30% ex-pats, but was mostly attended by Ugandans. I went with my roommates, and it was so cool to be doing something so typical of our lives in America, but in Uganda. In the states, I've been to numerous benefit concerts, special events, and African Children's choir performances to raise money for some cause in Africa. But this event was held in Uganda for the local hospital. It was just so much more meaningful to see Ugandans responding to needs in their own country than Americans reaching into their pockets to support a cause across the ocean.
There can be a tendency for people here to get into mindset that the white-man will just come in and fix everything for us... the whites will build us hospitals, and care for our orphans, and construct clean wells, and they will take care of us. I love seeing that mindset combated. It is my prayer that more and more Ugandans will drop that old mindset and pick up this new one that takes ownership of the issues in their country... and that more and more people would strive to rebuild and restore this place in any way they can.
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