God Speaks

So, I stopped by the post office to mail 3 letters to the US that I wrote 3 weeks ago but never got around to sending. When I asked for the stamps, the nice lady behind the counter (not to be confused with the total shrew who sometimes graces us with her terrible presence) pointed to a sign on the column to the left of the window. The sign said that all post being sent to the US and Canada has been suspended until further notice. Huh? They are still allowing things to come IN from the US and Canada…but not go out? I assume this has something to do with the upcoming elections…but what? So, since I cannot correspond via snail mail with anyone from home, I would like you all to operate under the assumption that you were to be the intended recipient of one of the three letters and that it contained many wonderful things, written in such a touching manner that it made you both laugh and cry.


On Sunday, I attended an event at the local community center presented by FAOC (Foundation for Aids Orphaned Children). There were many crafts, handmade by the students participating in the program. Beads, baskets, chairs, drawings, and concrete pots were all available for purchase. There were presentations of song, poetry, testimony, and Michael Jackson style dance. There were even Ugandan pop stars as special guests. They sang and spoke of AIDS prevention. At the end of the event, the mayor got up in front of everyone and gave a special thanks to the people responsible for this wonderful event. He mentioned Pamela and Tanner, the Canadian couple that put it all together, and then he continued on. I was busy playing with a kid sitting beside me, not paying attention to the mayor, pretending that batteries were cars and zooming them all over the chairs and crashing them into each other, when I heard two words: “RUHEPAI” and “AMBER”. Upon hearing my organizations name and my mistaken identity, I thought to myself, “no…it can’t be!” When I looked up, he was pointing at me saying into the microphone, “….and a special thanks to the development worker from the US Peace Corps” (Peace Corps being pronounced phonetically). I was forced to stand up, wave, and take partial credit for this event, which I in no way helped organize or put together. People clapped and nodded their heads, like my participation was known because of the color of my skin. Then I bought a green and hot pink basket.


On the way home from the event which I had nothing to do with, It started to rain. The coolness of the rain felt like a Godsend, since it had been blazingly hot that day with zero shade clouds. I took my time walking home, gaining some extremely confused looks by those running past me to get out of the weather. I figured that this was a great opportunity for me to collect water, since the water for the whole village has been cut off for an entire month. I arrived home, and immediately grabbed 3 jerry cans, 2 basins, a cup, and a homemade funnel. I went outside to where the water runs off of my roof, and let the collection begin. My neighbors thought it was hilarious to see the Muzungu collecting water in a basin, and then dishing it out with a cup to put in the jerry can through a funnel made from an old water bottle. I gathered a crowd of about 6 neighbors, and they just stood there in the shelter of my house watching and giggling at me. I was soaked by the time I was finished, but I now have water to drink, cook, bathe, and wash dishes. Take THAT, naysayers!!


I have begun setting up my computer on a stool and facing it towards my door with a cartoon movie playing, so that when the children gather (as they most certainly will), they will stare at the movie instead of watching my every move. We blazed through Finding Nemo last week, and have this week started The Lion King. I had a gaggle of about 10 children assembled outside my door, when it started to rain. I was in my kitchen doing dishes, heard the rain start, and walked into the room where the movie was playing to check and see if rain was coming in the open door. Most of the kids had run away to their houses to get out of the rain, but 3 remained to watch the movie. They had brought in the stool to the middle of the room, shut the door, and were all lounging around watching Mufasa save Simba from the hyenas. I was shocked at their initiative to make themselves at home, but figured that it was great that they weren’t scared of me anymore. I sat down to watch the movie with them, when one little boy, Shemise (3 years old), gets up and opens the door. He stands in the doorway, pulls down his pants, and pees out the door. This motivates a second little boy, Sharriff (3 years old), to do the same. I was so shocked at what was happening that I would only stare at the scene in front of me in disbelief with my jaw hitting the floor. They shut the door, and resumed their position in my chair to watch the movie.


I’ve mentioned before that I feel closer to God in Uganda than I ever felt at home. I don’t know if it's because I’m trying harder to build a relationship with Him, or because there are less distractions from hearing His wisdom. Even though I am an entire month behind in my Bible Study, I try my best to hear what God has to say to me. Whether it’s through feelings, sights, the rain, or other people…I know that He is here speaking to my heart. Mostly, he says, “um…yeah. You probably shouldn’t eat that”. And He’s right.