from a letter i wrote to USPers.

Greetings USPers!

Thank you for the updating emails that have let me know that what I am remembering and feeling are real, legitimate. Also that I am not alone in still feeling them. I must admit, this last semester, four whole months, flew by extremely quick. And I too got caught in the busyness of school, work, etc. I tried so hard to slow down and have tea times everyday, which lasted for longer than I guess I could have hoped for, but then slowly got lower on my daily priority list. I remember thinking so much during the day, constantly filtering what I was being told with our time in Uganda and ending up with a headache. A confusing, unsure, frustrated, “tension” headache. All I wanted to do was lay down and hopefully shut off my mind, and wake up clear-headed. Haha. That didn’t exactly happen. Maybe I should have let myself do what I wanted to so badly, and what kimber articulated so well in her monologue: rock back and forth, to shake the confusion and release the tensions that were building up inside me.

Truthfully it wasn’t all bad, it was actually a whole lot better then I imagined it to ever be. My roommates and I got along really well, which I was surprised and blessed by. And I made a new friend who really was a friend. She felt what I did at times and questioned almost everything along with me. The best blessing though was a new church (a CRC one I found after our reunion at calvin) close enough for me to bike too, and found just at the point when I was about to through in the towel on Christianity. It was sweet to be part of a community outside of my “private-school bubble.”

But I guess overall at school I felt lonely, odd, and misunderstood. Similar to steph, people quickly readjusted to their lives and Uganda was somehow lost in the shuffle of life, school, work, meetings, one-on-ones… Not only did others forget about it, but I even had a hard time grasping it. I wanted so deeply to find people who cared, a community like USP who cared about others, the body of Christ in action! And overall to feel like I had purpose, like in Uganda. “I am because we are” or “I participate therefore I am” wasn’t so easily identifiable. All the tension between the social gospel and the theological gospel is a whole lot harder to reconcile when you have shifted more toward the social side but then lack a “society” or community to act with.

Looking back on the semester, I would say I adjusted to being home a lot better than I feared and imagined it would be during debrief. I have thought a lot about what we learned in Uganda, and tried to put as much of it into action as I could. I am really interested in community development now, and am looking in to grad schools or programs for the spring. So if anyone knows of a good school or opportunity let me know! J

Now its summer and I have moved back home in nor cal. It’s beautiful here, and warm. I am hopefully going to be volunteering at a community center in a rougher area of my city and working a job somewhere. But I have also left that church that I love and my new friends at school, so AGAIN I have transitioned and crave a community again. I remember what kimber’s brother told her about leaving Uganda, “Uganda is like the rest of your life.” Transitions really are constant! A lot of my questions that I came to Uganda with are still even more so on my mind. And when the questions have to do with the foundation that you have always based your life on: Jesus Christ and God and purpose, it can be dehabilitating. I definitely don’t have all the answers still, but I am seeking truth and trying to live faithfully without them.

Today I am remembering Uganda more than I have since I got back I think. I am listening to Sufjan and just watched the debrief dvd (thanks seth). I ate rice and beans, and missed posho with top-up sauce. I walked to a coffee shop this morning and felt like I was journeying to Kampala, but missed the red dirt and even the kids shouting mzungu. I miss my Mukono family and I miss all of you. When I was there and with you, I felt like I was a part of something. Something that made all my questions of faith and God fade. Something bigger than myself. And something that I think very much was truth, whatever that means. Thank you for all being you and a part of my life!!

Love,

Aimee

Ps. Thank you kimber for forwarding all the emails to me, I think I somehow got taken off the list. AND sorry that as I reread what I wrote it was really scattered and long… hope it reminds someone of Uganda somehow. Nice time!

ridgecrest with ali.

i love my grandparents

a humble dinner.

i met this guy on my way to the grocery store a few weeks ago. he was sitting outside his place and i had a quick conversation with him. on my weekly walks to stater bros and back, and on my ride to church i have seen him at least once a week. he calls me "hun," and we talk about everything from rattle snakes to fishing to salsa. i really like being in the community (outside of a car) because nothing dull ever happens on any of my "trips through town". i loving knowing my community and being a part of my community and building relationships in my community. it really makes me gleefully smile every time i leave my bubble-school-world.

so, yesterday afternoon i decided that since i wasn't going to go to the grocery store i still wanted to be consistent in seeing stanely every friday, so i set out to his place: the villas nursing home. stanley is 84 and genuine. from the first time i met him and the second time he remembered me i was so glad that i walked to the grocery store. :) i found him inside this time. usually he is always enjoying the outdoors, but this time he was watching tv inside. we talked for awhile and then his dinner was served. he asked with genuine excitement if i wanted to join him, so of course i agreed! he offered me one of his sandwiches and we enjoyed his simple tray of food. i cannot tell you what kind of sandwich it was... ham/spam/crab... who knows, but i do know that it was offered in genuine hospitality and love, so it was wonderful! washed down with orange hi-c and pears were also great. it was one of the best dinners i have had since being back in the states because it was the epitome of hospitality: offering everything he had with open hands and not having an agenda to meet.

"a visitor is not an intruder."
in uganda and surprisingly down the street too.
who knew?!
the breaching of two worlds. two world views.
life in the tension. united.
thanks stanley!

numerous simple blessings: joy.

I am enjoying a warm health nut muffin,
which my mom sent me the ingredients for to bake here.
Amazing how simple blessings come.
And I have yet three more to share.
One blessing is actually a mix of blessings rolled into one,
all situated in the Midwest.

Thankfully I was able to complete my flight from SoCal to blustery Chicago (blessing because lots of flights were being canceled and delayed!),
where I met some girls in Uganda with me.
We safely made our journey to Grand Rapids, Michigan,
where shrieks and laughter filled the foyer of the chapel at Calvin College,
as we embraced others from Uganda,
and for me that included my roommate, Kimber (blessing number two).

Sitting in a beautiful chapel.
I look to my left and to my right and see friends. family. usp.

Shhhshing only lasted for those few minutes we were causing a noticeable raucous,
because for the whole weekend we talked and laughed and reminisced.
And enjoyed tea.
Tea. Tea. Tea.
Somehow I like tea a whole lot more when I am sharing it with a friend.
Sugar and company: two necessary ingredients to a good, warm cup of tea.
To give you a picture of how much tea I had, one day I calculated 40oz,
all of which held the two ingredients so it was worthy!

The fam girls reunite.
The snow is blowing.
Hot steamy roobios tea ties the two as one.
Like a highlighted night in Uganda “babysitting” two of the cutest British-accented children. In a home warm with red floors and East African artifacts!
Both seeped in love.
Love reunited.

While we were at Calvin College, we attended the Faith and International Development Conference, which was so encouraging.
I was introduced once again to this idea of sustainability and development (ie. Long term commitment to using the assets that a community already has to empower them (not “save” them)).
This idea is versus relief, which is a short-term aid that does good for extreme situations, but which can also cause dependency if it lasts too long!
I am so interested in this idea. it has really made me wonder what mindset short-term missions people are going with, and what I went with, and how/ if I will return.

The overall community of people there were so encouraging.
Recycling was encouraged!
Plastic mugs were distributed for use during the conference (and beyond)!
Social justice issues were addressed.
Eclectic-dread wearing-artistic-creative-hippies.
And there was tea time!
And snow!!

Quaint. Classic. Victorian.
The Midwest.
White. Blustery. Pure.
In wintertime.
Mittens. Long johns. Earmuffs.
Warmth within the cold.

[culture shock phase one: honeymoon: some may say]

When the theme of the conference was addressed, kimber glanced over at me…
…. It was from John 15: abide.
This verse pops up everywhere it seems.
John 15:5 “Apart from Me you can do nothing.”
This seems to be where I come back to often.
It has been so hard for me to combine the two worldviews as one, and integrate the faith is shown through action while keeping with saved by grace.
But as one speaker pointed out, God was the first Developer and Sustainer!!
SO, we must love because we were loved,
We must promote reconciliation because were reconciled to God through Jesus,
And therefore because peace, reconciliation, and love were shown to us that must be the reason we [i] do these things also.
God, may I act out of faith and assurance in my salvation!!

as we abide in Christ
we are part of the same Vine
and have the same Gardener.

Coming back to CBU after the Midwest has been a struggle,
Frustrations about no recycling and no community and wanting it to be like Calvin or with USP was paralyzing at times. No one seemed to understand. Or care.
But now I come to blessing number three.

Today I biked to Hope Community Church (a CRC church) that I had found on the internet.
Aside from the blessing of biking through my community and waving to Stanley as I passed by him, the church is now going to be my home.
I walked in and was greeted warmly.
And then met Mary Jo.
Mary Jo invited me to sit with her, passed me a mint, and introduced me to all her friends. People asked her who I was and she went out of her way to introduce me.
I was glowing I am sure.
I was pleased as a bee.
Grinning from ear to ear.
Overwhelmed by the blessing of community. [In my community too]
Then we talked about GEMS, a young girls program and I start next Tuesday.
I am going to dinner at her house the night before.
And the young adult leader invited me over anytime, and told me about Tuesday night Bible study with college students.
We had lunch after and I talked with the pastor, who remembered my name after!!
It was wonderful.
The ride back I was ecstatic with blessings.
It’s amazing how simple blessings come.
And light up a life!

I continue to live in the tension.
The tension of listening to my mind and my heart.
The tension of wanting to be so many places and being here.
The tension of faith and action.
But these blessings seem to make the light at the end of the tunnel feel nearer.

“It’s the Joshua tree's struggle,
That gives it its beauty.”
[the glass house, walls pg 38]

undesired cynicsm.

Cynic. Skeptic. Doubter.

I left Uganda feeling so happy and sure.
And now I have no idea who I am or what I am doing or what I should be doing.

I miss the red dirt and the red hands from scrubbing stains out with omo and the red floors at missionaries homes where we were welcomed like family.

I miss cold showers and rice and beans.

I miss fam girl prayers and food having relational purposes not just to fill the void of the stomach. We were created to eat and need food daily, not so we could enjoy the food but enjoy fellowship regularly. The growling we here from a hollow-empty tummy is a built-in reminder of our need for relationships. And Jesus was the ultimate Relator and offered Himself as the eternal bread and wine that we could ever need.

Call me crazy, but I prefer the long, dusty walks and hot days outside, to the car-driven cold days here which keep us inside.

I want someone to understand. Someone to agree with me. Someone to believe what I do and work together with them to activate change.

I hate arguing and standing alone in what I believe, I just want to agree. But I cannot. I was reminded by a friend from Ghana, West Africa who I saw today in the caf, about community. He remembered me after all these months and that I was going to Uganda. It was a few minutes of home. He was present with me and of course I was the one to bow out (they hint but never make the move; to do so would be rude!). But in talking to him about the differences, the first he said was, “it’s so much more communal-based, huh?!” I was like YES!

I want a church that supports me and knows me and is looking outward with their money instead of inward. One of which I can sing with and know that our hearts are beating, and our hands are clapping, with the hearts of thousands upon thousands of other believers around the world. One that does what it says. And worships the God they sing praises to with actions not just words. Who recognizes that the poor, hungry, prisoners, etc. are Jesus in the flesh (matthew 25).

Many a day I feel like putting my head down and stopping the thoughts. Curling up and escaping this reality that is so unreal to me. Stopping the analyzing and ending the cynicism. To understand and to be what I should be. “Living in the tension” is so much harder than four words sound to be!

All these questions. All this cynicism. Leads me down the road I keep pinching myself for, doubting that all this is true. What if the Bible is wrong? What if God is not real? Deep down I think I know that it is true, but it is still so hard to have faith. I wonder if the Church acted how it should, like Christ’s disciples, if I would have more faith (same with other unbelievers). I want to help the poor and live like the poor and serve others. But I do not want to help the poor, live with the poor, and serve others if I am doing it in vain. It is injust the way that they live. But I want to reach out to them with more hope and more faith myself than just to be a good person. I want to be confirmed in my faith so that I can act in my faith. Am I scared? Faith. Faith. I also come back to this. It is so easy to forget this. I pray that I would gain more of this.

More questions. More concerns. More cynicism. More doubts.

More answers are wanted. More direction is desired.

This is such a random collection of thoughts.

Today in church these were my thoughts:

To say that we are following a god means people are looking at us to see what God is like and who He is. People have other gods: shoes, lovers, work, money, food… and it is evident what they believe and who or what they worship. If they can stand for the god they believe in who is false, why can’t we stand firm and true to the true God who we follow?!

We must be disciples. Examples of the true God! [Are we displaying TRUTH or falsities?]

Matthew 25:31-46 (ESV)
"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.' Then the righteous will answer him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?' And the King will answer them, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.' "Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.' Then they also will answer, saying, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?' Then he will answer them, saying, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.' And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life."

a.janee.

the apartment that doesn't replace home.

this is my apartment where i am now living in. a window into the place my roomies, lori and lauren, temporarily call "home".

back to cbu.

well, in one month I have moved from simple, warm, beautiful Uganda, to stormy and cold, yet comfortable home, to an apartment in southern California with two girls I somehow know. I guess I can adapt well because I seem to be able to adapt to this culture, like I was able to adapt to Ugandan culture. I am definitely always thinking of Uganda, maybe even subconsciously now that I think of it. Wondering what patu would think if he was with me in the cafeteria? Or why we needed to buy a plastic bag holder? Or why in the world there is such poverty yet such wealth? And saddened by the reality that people may not know the stark difference, but also that it exists just around the corner.

The minute I walked into my apartment I loved it! The colors are brown, which I love. And it is spacious and yet cozy. I set up the two suitcases or so of stuff I had brought and have since had several interactions with friends that I truly loved. Like a walk around the block, and a long lunch, and a couch convo. They have all been awesome, and I am astounded by the depth to which these people care about me. And the questions and interest they have in knowing how I am and how Ugandan is and was. It too was more welcoming than imagined.

I am excited to live life. Slow down. And appreciate everything I have been blessed with. I have a new profound appreciation for words, classic novels and movies, music, and even the theatre. Dan Haseltine, a Jars of Clay band member, said something I love and is so true: “an artist [is] a prophet to a world full of busy and important people who need the ‘Cliff Notes’ version of how the world is how it could be.”

It is strange though to always be cold. And to never be outside. And walk into a building and know that it will be warm. And not have a bird fly into the classroom. Or see geckos on my walls at night. Or not have to move my chair into the classroom. And to have more food choices than I can fathom. But I love riding to class on my roomies handle bars and have made a real effort to put people first and value convos and be present. It has been good.

To the question, are you happy to be back, I respond that I loved it there and would have been fine staying and would take the next flight over if I could. But that I recognize all good things must come to an end. And that I am here now, so I am going to be.

a.janee.

a reverse culture shocked Christmas with more love than i could have hoped for.

On my final flight home from Uganda, I had no idea how my friends or family would react to me or how I would be anymore. I was scared and excited and anxious all at the same time. I pity the guy sitting next to me on that flight from dallas to sacramento, I was so bored and jittery and talkative after all the hours floating in the sky.

But when I got off the plane I was welcomed with more love than I imagined. My mom cried of course, but she warned me and of course she would, her baby was home! And they were holding up a welcome home sign. And a few friends were there with flowers and my bf sarah had sent a bag of trader joes goodies too. It was wonderful. Leaving the airport I suddenly felt freezing cold. And looking back on that return to the American reality, it was strange. The streets were so smooth and the car was so spacious and comfortable. My house was the same, plus the welcome home signs- big and nicely decorated.

Church was weird, I never realized how much I appreciated the high church setting in the Anglican church in Uganda. But I miss it. I love the liturgy and the open buildings and the community. The Christmas service was a choir presentation and I was leery of the invitation to prayer the sinners prayer at the conclusion. I was wondering where the follow-up to these people would be and where the relationships with these people are and most importantly whether these people know that being a follower of Christ is not a walk through the park. It is not the happy choir songs, the warm spacious building or the purple comfy chairs. It is not just a prayer, there is action!! To tell you the truth I didn’t close me eyes.

Then the lame picture thing, I have decided that another cause of stress is computers and pictures. They are headache inducers hands-down. And I don’t really know if I like them. But after we got that squared away, my family loaded up the car and drove to my grandparents home for a big family Christmas gathering. It was good for the most part. But culture shock was definitely recognizable. In Uganda time is relationship-oriented, not efficiency-oriented like it is here in the states. And meals are the central part of the day, they are appreciated. So it was awfully disappointing to walk in a few minutes late to our traditional Christmas eve service and realize that everyone had prayed and eaten, or were already finished. I was like whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold it. Bummer. I was disappointed, but my parents were understanding and didn’t let it go again. I still recognized and recognize a desire to make a fast meal, eat is quickly, and clean it all speedily. I wonder, why the hurry. What’s the rush? What could be possibly more important or a better use of our time? Its bizarre and unloved by me. I just want people to appreciate time and people and the food they are given, and for me to do the same more!

My mommy and my bf sarah planned a welcome home party, which at first was an overwhelming idea, but turned out to be a blessing. We served some African food that I would have a lot or that was significant to me somehow, and over thirty people came. I did a brief presentation and answered some questions. It was overall pleasant to see that people genuinely cared about me and my trip, and were willing to share a listening ear to my stories.

Leaving home was one of those things I wish I didn’t have to do again, especially so soon. I had somehow planned to stay home this semester, but realized that for one, I had to make the decision and believe that God wouldn’t smite me for my choice, and two, that I needed to return to the “real world” and rekindle relationships I had left behind. So after some wet tears and a little fear I took yet another plane to so cal, where the air is still as freezing cold as home.

Thanks to everyone who kept up on my blog (I felt honored and loved that so many people told me upon seeing them that they had read some or all of my blog). And for supporting me and encouraging me, and genuinely happy to see me and hear stories! :)

(and the code word that my friends created for me to say just in case I felt overcrowded or overwhelmed was such a simple yet profound sign that they cared and were there for me!)

a.janee.

....................................................................................................................

uganda day was one of my favorite moments at home.
my family was so encouraging and good sports to all that i put them through!

final blog from uganda.

“I am sitting on green grass in the back corner of the compound of a gorgeous convent in Uganda. The sounds of the mingling of bird harmonies almost drowns out the singing voices coming from a church service. Reflecting back on this semester encompasses SO much.” Here is a glimpse of what I experienced, from a journal entry during debrief:

So much has changed since the beginning of my journal until today. So many things have happened, so many questions have been asked (with some answers), and in so many ways I have been challenged.

The biggest impact has been understanding more fully that Jesus came to restore relationships. Not only between us and God, by His death the curtain was torn around the Most Holy Place in the temple. But also He has existed in relationships with people, not focusing on efficiency but faithfulness. Not bothered by interruptions and moved by compassion to be with the suffering, not only to heal them. He transcends culture and meets everyone where they are. He was present with us and He calls us to abide (stay with Him) with Him. Jesus did NOT come to restore relationships with a new set of rules, but to enter into fellowship with us and show us the way to be His disciples. He existed in all our suffering and loved us first, so we could love others, show compassion to them, and be present with them. It is not about earning salvation, but walking by faith in belief that who He is and what He calls us to is true. Belief is expressed in action (James 2, 1 John 3:18). Nothing we do can be our own doing or our own good works because it is in Christ and His power in that that they glorify Him.

Another important lesson is that belief is acted out. Jesus said, “Come, Follow me” and “I am the WAY, the truth, and the life.” It is not merely a cozy understanding that you get to go to heaven for saying God is God, but how your life would change if you really believed that God is God. Priorities. Values. Ethics. Money. Time. These would all shift! Saying versus actions shows the depth of your belief (James 2). Simple living and mere discipleship- both extremely challenging to me and I wonder what my response should be. How should my life change?

“if you wish the world to believe what you say,
you must live as if you believe what you say.”
-camp 189.

This has been the most challenging concept. What do my actions, my priorities, my time say that I believe? My desire and hope is that I value people and relationships over efficiency, consumerism, and piety. That I can love others with a love that God showed me in Christ, by humility, presence (not multi-tasking, but allowing for interruptions; listening before talking), not judging and not letting fear or hurt or sinning paralyze me from committing to love. “love is the willingness to hurt.” We see this in the hands of Christ. Jesus is the model by which we live. He is faithful, I want to be a faithful witness not driven by the ends or the telos, but driven by the means, the praxis, the way - discipleship.

The ends versus means, savior versus disciple reminds me of another important lesson I have learned while being here: Jesus saves I don’t. Africa is not a hopeless continent that needs pity from others. Jesus transcends culture. My calling is not to have an ingenious solution to Africa’s problem and give them the handout. But to be faithful to the bottom-up, grass root ways that I can impact individual people, build relationships, show love, help development. This shatters the western implied mindset that I came with; that I would change the world and save the children in Africa. Its been humbling AND freeing not to have the pressure to solve poverty or hunger, and to rest in the presence of Christ and seek to be faithful witnesses. This does not mean I believe in ignoring the problem or spiritualizing the problem, but accepting that I am only an instrument, not the Doctor. I pray that God will use me to alleviate poverty or hunger, but it is not my focus at all costs. But if God places me in a situation or asks me to do something, than I am willing to go and obey.

Simple living is another way that I hope not to be stagnant in my faith or concern for others. This is a broad issue but a challenging one. Living simply and also helping others to live simply. I commit to washing dishes by hand and not using the dryer (if possible). Eating a simpler diet. Being appreciative of the food I am given and not being prideful, selfish or picky with what I am served. To practice hospitality by offering tea and crackers or biscuits. Helping my family around the house. Being creatively mindful of waste. While balancing this with a good meal once a week or so (the Bible emphasizes feasts!). also cleaning out my clothes and focusing on quality NOT quantity. Along with saving money, giving the money to an organization I believe is holistic and sustainable. Riding public transport or my bike at least once a week. Looking into a budget based on the poverty line or graduated tithing (some budget for sure!). and overall being mindful of consumerism and materialism, asking myself the motive for a photo, an experience, or a purchase. I believe that the West, myself included, is anxious because of the choices and the amount of things we have (and the value we place on them). Living without making decisions has really made my life simpler this semester. Choices I have had: dry tea or milk tea, posho or rice (and amount), what I will wear. The anxiety I had in shopping for gifts is a testament that choices and decisions are an unnecessary distraction. Reentering a culture that has five decisions surrounding a single cup of coffee will be overwhelming for me. This is not about legalism (notice my leniency and undefined word usage), but about stewardship and the Bible’s rampant littering of verses about the poor and giving to those in need.

I anticipate it being hard to not seem condescending to others about their lifestyles, so I am reminding myself of one, how much I hate feeling guilty and condescended upon; and two, that I had an experience that only forty-five other people had. So it is impossible for me to believe they will have changed or be convicted like me. Abby Bartels once told me, “Guilt is general, conviction is specific.”

I am excited to put into practice what I have learned about hospitality from Ugandans. To eat rice and beans, with veggies of course too. To make my family dinner. And implement tea time into my afternoon or morning. And the idea of sharing sugar over tea with others. I am excited to invest in relationships with my family. To live life, not be a rat running in a race. This semester has opened my mind to the importance of commitment and to embracing Christians and non-Christians – not feeling impurity or sin because recognizing that I am in a relationship with God and thus manifest relationships with others. He is more concerned with my faithfulness and committed actions, abiding, and presence, then completing a list of requirements or rules. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “Love God, Sin Big.”

Questions I am leaving this semester with still unanswered are:
. will I go back to school or stay at home?
. faith versus belief, and if both require action? (is action required to be saved…?)
. how can I live out and remember what I have learned and stay changed?

Africa is a beautiful place that blew away all my assumptions and expectations. The reality of the world is poverty, but not everyone lives in a hut, are destitute, and/or need globs of money. Sustained commitment and development can help. “Mzungus” have infiltrated culture and old traditions are ending, with westernization rising. “bye mzungu bye.”

Bye mzungu. Bye.

Bye mzungu. Bye.

A topless girl with a ripped skirt says as I pass.

Bye mzungu. Bye.

A trailing potbelly boy yells exuberantly from behind me.

Bye mzungu. Bye.

A chorus of uniformed school children yell from the schoolyard as I walk by.

Bye mzungu. Bye.

No sweetie, it’s “hi,” I try to tell them.

Hi. Hi. Hi.

They all chant in unison.

Pass by again: bye mzungu bye.

Ma’am why don’t they say “hi.”

I inquire aloud.

“They are saying bye as you pass,” she replies.

Pass.

To pass is to see, but not stop.

Do they only know mzungus as passing by?

Do we show them bye.

So they rightly respond with a blatant, verbal bye.

Can we really see poverty and suffering and not stop to help?

To be present.

To life like they do. And build relationships.

To commit.

We might not admit to knowing the answer.

But the kids seem to:

“Bye mzungu. Bye.”

may i never just pass by or let this semester pass me by.

a.janee.

a compilation of pictures from the entire semester.

i love uganda. part one.

i love uganda. part two.

freezing in amsterdam.

my new do.

This past week has been an intense one, but also not quite very eventful. Sorry for the lacking blog posts, but I do now have news worth noting!

Exams and coursework are coming to an end. In the terms my Ugandan peers use, we are “revising” for a “paper” (which somehow translates to mean studying for exams???). Exams here are a really REALLY big deal. They are worth 50% of your mark and require sitting for a three hour “paper.” I had one on Wednesday, World Views, and I could equate it to the SAT’s in a way. Everyone has to have two ids to enter, and only a pen, key and those cards were allowed. People are scattered throughout the room and the exam booklets and tests are distributed. The proctor (not the teacher), even says the
fun”-yet-stressful “you are remaining with 38 minutes!” It was a tiresome three hours, but I am glad its over! Since then I have finished a term project and am preparing to do one more exam on Tuesday and two more courseworks.

It absolutely blows my mind to think that in less than two weeks I will be back in my house, in my bed, with my family, hot showers, and apples… I have missed these things in time, (my family more than that!) but feel also as if this is all I have ever known. Leaving a nearly four month journey behind will be difficult, yet there is joy in seeing friends and FAMILY!

Okay, so now for the title of the blog to manifest into details. Today I sat for nearly ten hours getting my hair plaited with long twists. My dear friend Emmah, who I met on the swings at the beginning of the term (kindred spirits from the start!) was gracious enough to spend her entire day twisting and twisting my hair. I left my room around eight fifteen in the morning and after getting the extensions, with eating lunch, scarcely-short breaks, and visiting afterward, I returned at nearly eight to campus. I-yi-yie! A very long day. But it was “sweet” to hang out with her and her cousin, in their hostel (apartment/room). So now I have long, about at my heart-length, chestnut brown hair that is in small twists. Good news: I don’t have to wash it for awhile, and I can return home with a new do. Bad news: I fear taking it out because of how much hair is supposedly normally lost. (I kinda freaked at some points thinking about it today- I had lots of time to think- but whatev!) It was amazing to me how long it took and how short it will really stay in… like two weeks maybe. A whole day for two weeks of cool hair!? I think this is a once-a-lifetime event. But I like it and had lots of fun.

About Emmah: she is a Kenyan studying in a pre-year term, which is kinda like senior year high school mixed with a freshman in junior college. She went to beauty school, so is a professional, and wants to study social work. She loves reading and watching movies. And popcorn! She is “sweet!” She even gave me a gift tonight which is so selfless and gracious: this really cute dress that she had, which I guess I commented on a few times that she looked “smart” in it. It’s really convicting and amazing to see people give of what they have in such generous ways. I wish that I could somehow be the same!

Now I am sitting in the dark with a few tea lights glowing next to me. I think I will miss the calmness that comes with a blackout (when I don’t have a paper due the next day that is!). I am leaving this semester soon behind, and am not sure quite how to understand it all. Yesterday in Kampala this guy asked me where I would be in ten years, and honestly I had (and still have not) a clue. If I came with questions, I am leaving with at least the same number. Although in different things. I have learned a lot about Jesus and my faith, but what I am going to do about it all remains the big question. I am looking forward to debrief, where hopefully I can sort out some of this, at least a slice of it!

Last week. Farewells. Hi to mom and alli. Finish exams and courseworks. Friend time. Hmm.

the collision of joy and sorrow.

Tonight as I was walking back from the main road, I had a moment. With a head of roasted corn in my hand, a new magazine bead necklace on, and the tunes of fergie playing in my ear I was (literally) jammin’ and loving my life. An “is this really my life” moment! Life in Africa is really wonderful, the lessons I have read about have played out before my eyes and taught me so much. The people are so open with all they have, and inspire me. But two things I miss: my family and efficiency. Efficiency is unheard of here. When the internet failed us (again) tonight, my friend matt said, “I wonder how much time we have wasted here… days maybe.” Personally I can’t buy into the belief that it was lost time, I have to assume that it taught me something good. But days are packed full, and yet hardly any work is accomplished. This week I have craved my home more than I have in that last three months. Which I guess is a good thing, since I will have to transition to life there in only three short weeks. Ah! The collision of joy and sorrow.

This week and next is the culmination of all our classes: full of coursework and exams. A little overwhelming on top of the miniscule time we have left here in Africa! So not only am I ending classes, but ending reality as I have known it for four months. It’s bittersweet. I have just felt like I have created friendships and connections in the community finally, but now I am leaving. On the flip side, the idea of chocolate chip waffles with cottage cheese and fruit is sounding more and more wonderful to my tummy. J I can’t wait for Christmas time with my family. No agenda. No anxiety over wasted time. Just relaxing by the fire with a blanket and cuddly socks. Bliss.

Please keep me in your prayers in the few weeks to come if you remember. As everyone copes with the emotions of the bitter-sweet exodus from Africa, I pray that we can encourage and support each other here and not get hostile. The transition from a life I love, back to my old reality which I miss will be hard and overwhelming at times. Pray please that I can cope well, and that I live these last three weeks fully present here with no regrets. As I finish classes, and want to do so much more here, pray that I would not let anxiety creep into me. Also, relationships that I rejoin when I return may be awkward and I ask for prayer that it would be smooth transitioning back into them.

I love you all. And miss you more and more every passing day.

[ My lovely mommy and sister are leaving for the Philippines tomorrow, so any prayers for them would be magnificent and appreciated also. I love them SO much! ]

Thanksgiving Day

My Thanksgiving day in Africa began with a short jog around the school with a friend, and a cup of sweet black tea. Followed by a morning of classes and a power nap on my favorite bench in front of the children’s library. The focus of the day was on the evening and I found myself (and others voiced similar sentiments) throughout the day purposefully moderating what I ate so that I could surely be hungry for the American feast tonight. In the afternoon, after a good lunch conversation, some friends and I ventured to a professor’s house to use their stove to make our apple crisp dessert for the dinner (and enjoy the couches, family-style house, and even watched friends). I ate so many apple peelings, delightful. I am okay with being an apple peel glutton, it could be much worse. Hehehe. It reminded me of my younger days when mommy would use the apple-peeler-corer-slicer and I would eat a paper towel heaped with a long apple peel snake: that I would chomp and slurp. Good memories relived. Thanksgiving dinner was in the Vice Chancellor, Stephen Noll’s backyard. Essentially a gorgeous garden spacious enough to hold the plus eighty students, student guests, staff, and other ex-pats from the community. Their was music and a big tent, an abundance of chairs and even floor mats. There were other mzungu students (or Hungarians as Kimberly thought) from a program called Food for the Hungry (not Hungary).  I met a wonderful girl named katelyn, and it was good to talk through our different experiences, process aloud with a new face, and think through reengaging the US culture upon return. The feast was barbequed poultry (maybe turkey?) and roasted matooke bananas (an African meal would not be complete without matooke!). a table buffet of coleslaw salad, mashed potatoes, steamed pumpkin, green beans and corn, a dinner roll, and a traditional African fruit salad (watermelon, pineapple, banana, and some popo seeds). It was delightful to enjoy the party with so many people and activity and talk and relaxation all at once. Then was dessert… oh my goodness. Apple crisp, chocolate banana bread, chocolate chip cookies, cakes of sorts, frosting from cakes that had been devoured before me, and kettle corn. I kinda feel shaky now from the sugar overload. But it was worth it ALL!  And to top off the night there was a projector brought out for the showing of Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving and Christmas films. It was humorous to watch everyone enjoy watching the cartoon so much… its tradition! I am so thankful for my family, the opportunities that I have had in my lifetime (especially Africa), for the friends I have made in my time here, and the place I am at in my life now. Thank you Jesus for life and hope in this crazy fallen world.

Free to laugh. Free to dance. We are family.

This Monday afternoon, I heard a quiet knock from my atop my plaid-covered bed. And the timid opening of our painfully creaky door where I reside. Followed by the squeal of a young girl in a smart, hot pink pinafore, who proceeded to hurl herself onto me. Trailing quickly behind was a young lad, smart too in his pink button-up and daily polished black school shoes. With a quiet grin he too gave me a big hug, the biggest a skinny boy of age seven could muster I believe. Retracing their steps away from the mat they removed their shoes, then climbed atop my bed beside me. Puppy dog eyes the size of goose eggs that time back had looked around my room with bewilderment were more at home this day. Sharing gnuts together, to fill the tummies of beloved children who had likely not eaten since posho and beans for lunch, the young boy was especially glad, and careful to eat all, even the crumbles. Puffing up his cheeks and popping the air out with his small fingers, likely laden with dirt form the schoolyard, I knew he loved me. Words were not necessary. After sharing laughs, reading about Yertle the “Kabaka” Turtle, and dancing the calypso, I reminded myself that “a visitor is not an intruder” (Taylor). And thus purposed myself to treasure my time spent with these lovely children, knowing too that my time here with them is on the brink of being over. Pasting stickers on each other and translating animal names of the stickers to Luganda, I remember the deserved giggles for my fumbling tongue.

Free to laugh. Free to dance. Unhindered and unashamed. Living outside my fearful self and enjoying life and love.

Holding hands we closed out dance party to “We are Family.” Hands and bodies forming a circle of three, spinning and moving our feet to the tempo, the girl exclaimed, “we ARE family” with purity on her smiling lips. Flooding emotions filled my heart with the inclusive intimacy that my sister had invited me into. I am remembering now what Dr. Brooks shed light on just the other day: Jesus allowed the agendas of people to interrupt Him and was fully present in loving and teaching them. “To live is Christ,” to love is Christ… He who says he abides in Him ought Himself also to walk just as He walked” (Philippians; 1 John 2:5-6).

What if I had not let their interruption conflict with my coursework? What if I had rushed them out after handing them a lollipop like last time? We never would have danced as a family. I never would have seen the lesson of life played out for me. Life is relationships. Presence. Selfless love. And lived not through the tick marks beside a long list of to-dos, but through the allowance of sporadic interruptions to exceed all plans ever imagined. “This is your life/ are you who you want to be” (Switchfoot).

aids in uganda.

i wrote this for an assignment, but thought you might enjoy reading it!

Sub-Saharan Africa has the highest estimate of children and adults living with HIV in the world, according to a UNAIDS report at the end of 2005. The number is a breath-taking 25.8 million human beings, of the 40.3 people infected worldwide. As early as 1982, Uganda had only two infected persons with the “slim disease,” which exploded to 25-30% of the population being infected by the late 1980’s. A combination of government and non-government forces have successfully worked together to tackle this sweeping epidemic, and have since lowered HIV/AIDS prevalence in Uganda to 6.4%. (Fountain, UCU) Jane is a ten year old girl who was orphaned by AIDS. Tests will show whether she too has been infected, but how will she deal with this death sentence?

Being in Sub-Saharan Africa myself I have had no intimate relationships with anyone directly affected by HIV/AIDS, or at least willing to disclose this painful information to me. My only interactions have been vicariously through other’s stories and through the field trip to a community center in Luwero, to play with children infected with the disease. I was surprised, and humbled, by the excitement these children had for life; and their consistent praise for having life that day and even specifically for their health. Consistently this semester we have stressed the importance of relationships and presence and bottom-up evangelism and aid. Interacting with the children on a personal level, playing games and being graciously handed pieces of chapatti from a boy only five years old, lends me to put into question my previous view of the epidemic.

Before coming to Uganda I knew little about HIV/AIDS. My formative argument for this subject thus came from my politics book review on William Easterly’s book, White Man’s Burden, where he addressed the problem of AIDS and aid. He argues that prevention is a better way to save lives than treatment because there is no cure for AIDS but there are definitive ways to prevent the disease from spreading. With his statistics and the information we learned this weekend, I feel like this is the best way to use our money for foreign aid pragmatically. But I can not see how to feasibly turn my eyes and heart away from the children who are already suffering and have been abandoned, or let the numerous who have been handed their death sentence fall into hopelessness.

The exposure I had to AIDS was very limited while being here, therefore I will not fabricate an empty statement about feeling called to help with HIV/AIDS. However, hearing other stories about friends living with families who had lost so many family members to the disease, and hearing stories like orphaned Jane, reminds me of the mere breath our lifespan on earth is. And that pushes me to live my life purposefully on purpose. To love as Christ loved us: sacrificially and without passing judgment. To live a life of ministry through relationships, and commitment to treating people as people created by the Creator. Inviting interruptions to invade my self-absorbed consciousness and live for others. And being fully present in whatever community God leads me to be a part of, whether diseased, lame, or rich.

classroom visit snaps.

classrom visitation.

camping trip to the islands snaps.

ssese islands.

rural homestay snaps.

rural homestays.