The African Sampler

To those of you who have been keeping track, I apologize that it has taken me so long to send out this fifth update. No, I have not contracted Ebola- just a lack of computer time. Many of you have expressed concern for my safety with the recent news of Ebola infecting Uganda. Praise God, it has not reached Gulu- but please continue to pray for those who have been affected and that the disease may be contained.


The past few weeks have been incredible, in fact so incredible that every time I think- 'ooo I should blog about that', I resist in fear that you wouldn't get to hear about another highlight from the last two weeks.

Thus, here is the African Sampler!

Just like our favorite Ethiopian restaurant here in town, when you cant decide on one item, you've got to experience it all with a several little tastes!

Last week my days were hidden away with my heavenly Father in Jinja, Uganda- what Winston Churchill called 'The pearl of Africa'. There I attended a Fatherheart School with one of the Aunties from our girls home. The school was held at this incredibly beautiful location called Mto Moyoni (Swahili for 'river in the heart'). Mto Moyoni is probably one of the closest replicas to the Garden of Eden that I will ever set my eyes on. As we entered through the large gates and under the archway of flowers, we walked to our God gifted upgraded room- a round, grass roofed hut overlooking the mighty Nile. There we would spend hours 'soaking' in the garden surrounded by plants, flowers, birds, red tailed monkeys, fish eagles, and the presence of God. But what was far more incredible than the scenery was the message that my heart took away from that week. The love of the Father. It may seem like a simple and rather elementary lesson, but the love of God is far deeper than my mind had ever grasped. It was a week of transformation, forgiveness, healing, and listening. I experienced the love of God and the joy of being his daughter more than ever before. But I do not believe this was an experience which will be left behind. I am finding that when your heart is transformed, the rest of the body follows in response. Your mind thinks differently, your eyes see differently, your ears hear differently, and your actions respond differently. I am finding that my journey through the river of the heart has altered the way I view my relationship with God, the trials of the women and children I work with, and the way I view God's plan for my life on many levels. I can not wait to continue this journey with the joy of my soul- my heavenly Father.

After spending a week not having left the gates of Paradise, I rode the combined 10 hours of bodas, taxis, and buses back to Gulu. It felt so good to be back. After arriving at the house and unpacking my things- I was startled to find four little familiar faces at the back door. Four of the girls from the rescue home had come to our house to gather water. All of the girls and aunties were at a huge evangelical crusade that was held just around the corner from our house. After squeals of excitement we leapt into one another's arms and rejoiced over the fact that we were once again reunited. Hand in hand we walked down to the crusade which you could hear loudly from our home. There were thousands of people at the crusade grounds. After excitedly greeting the rest of the girls, some of the children lead me to come dance with their friends. As we neared the spot you could visibly see a wall of dust held in suspension from all of the dancing feet pounding hard against the dry dirt. The children's faces were pouring with sweat and beaming with smiles. The men on stage were jumping so high that their knees were reaching their chins as they sang and danced to local songs of praise. I'll admit that I can't jump anything like that, but the moment a white girl tries to start busting an African move, every person within 10 feet radius has to stop, watch, and laugh. The girls were roaring with laughter as they would watch me try to replicate their moves- and as I looked up to the sky I just thought, I truly could not be happier. Surrounded by the girls, dancing, laughing, and praising my heavenly Father, these are the moments I dream of. 

The following Monday, I was again reunited with the wonderful Imani women, to whom I am not sure I have adequately introduced you to! Zion Project serves both vulnerable women and children who have pasts of sexual exploitation (zionproject.org, imanilove.com). Now that these women are no longer turning to sex as their mean of income, they are given a new occupation to replace the old. Bead making. The Imani women come Monday through Friday to the office which happens to be in the same location as my home. Every weekday morning I pop around to the front of the house and exchange hugely exaggerated welcomes with each of the women as they arrive. It is one of the few times each day where we can exchange words without a translator and still understand one another. These women are absolute treasure. Similar to the many stories I have already shared with you, their pasts are difficult to say the least. But what I am also learning is that once the women are rescued from their past situations, they are not necessarily rescued from the scars that are left behind. Scars that continue to affect them daily. One area that we see as a common struggle for many of the Imani women is finances. This week I began leading a budgeting and savings course and meeting with the women one-on-one to plan their budgets. The ironic thing is, the day before I began teaching the course was the day I finalized my $20,000 loan for graduate school. I felt a bit like a hypocrite- preaching the importance of saving your money as I am living deep in the hole myself. Upon our first group session, I decided to open up with some honesty and vulnerability. I am not the young mzungu (white) girl who is telling you to save your money but really has no idea what it is like to live in debt or to fear finances. After uncomfortably admitting my current situation I watched the faces change as the statement made it all the way through translation. Their faces changed to expressions of empathy and trust. I told them I am no expert in this area, but together we're going to learn how to budget. Were going to learn how to save and how to plan so that with the hand of the Lord, our dreams can become realities.

As we began meeting one-on-one, my eyes were opened to the true financial struggle each woman is facing. Though each receive a salary that is considered above standard for women in this culture, I struggle find a way to cover their incredibly minimal survival expenses with their income. I've come to learn some African saving tactics of buying in bulk and using over time, sharing charcoal with their neighbors, and which foods cost less than others, but balances still remain. It breaks my heart when she tells me that she doesn't want to live in a house with cheaper rent because the only cheeper homes are the huts with grass roofs. She doesn't feel secure sleeping there with her two girls because your enemies may come and catch fire to your roof. When I ask her who would do that she replies: her husband. When another woman sits across the desk, leaning back, very pregnant, expecting her sixth child any day. As I begin to create her budget I sit quiet trying just to figure out how to reduce her current spending by at least half so that she can match her current income, while feeding her whole family. Her husband does not help her financially and has abandoned her, once again. As I enter into their shoes for a brief moment and try to rework their budget to cut costs anywhere we can, I begin to feel helpless, I find myself thinking the same impoverished thoughts they confront. And then I realize, these women are children of God. As they pour out their tears and their heartache about abandonment from their husbands, mocking from friends and neighbors, and fear of how they will make it through next month- I rest in the comfort of knowing their creator and father is the same as mine. We must rest there. We look at where they can make cuts, how they can put at least some money into savings, plan for the dreams of their future, and then we pray. Thats the only thing we can do.

And you know what? I will proudly proclaim that the Lord is already working. The day after our first group session, I met one on one to plan the budget with one woman. We were working on her budget so that we could assess how she could make her dream of owning her own land a possibility some day. When I begin talking about saving she proudly told me that after our lesson the day before, she went to have a photo ID made in order to open a savings account at the bank. I about jumped across the desk when I heard this. I hugged her and told her how proud I was of her. She said 'wisdom comes slowly sometimes, but when you receive it you have to act because its the only way you'll improve'. Another woman has begun coming to work before we open and staying until after we close everyday since we analyzed her budget. She realized that she needed to make more than she was in order to put any money into savings. Timeliness may not seem like a miracle to you, but is an act of God here in Africa.

Now that I am realizing that this sampler has given you much more than little tastes but rather several meals I'm thinking that I should probably wrap things up!


But before I go- a few sweet pieces I must share before wrapping up the meal.

After dinner mints:

• On our trip to Fort Patiko, the location of the old Arab slave trade, our 'tour guide' was high on opium. An unforgettable experience to say the least. Our trip was far more entertaining thanks to him! 
• After returning from Mto Moyoni, I arrived at the girls home for the first time in over a week. I walk through the gate see 6 girls come tearing around the corner sprinting towards me at full speed. What in the world? I am then lifted up and carried horizontally like Queen Sheeba all the way into the house. I think they must have been able to smell the sweets I had brought back from our trip! Abbey and Matthew, why do you never greet me that way ;)? 
• I for the past two weeks I have had a roommate from the UK. It's been so much fun! We laughed until we cried on several occasions from the strange/creepy boda boda experiences we shared, her funny English sayings, and complete shock to the thoroughness of my human anatomy dissections. Having her here for the short time that she was such a blessing! 
• The other day I was riding a boda out of town and passed the small shack of an artist I ordered a painting from. Completely different from the painting I ordered, I see on display for all of Gulu- a portrait of...myself. A very strange experience indeed. 
• Today an older man with a gappy toothed grin walks past me on my way to the market and tells me "Amari" I smile and reply confidently "Amari ma tek!" It wasnt until a few steps later that I realized we had not exchanged the typical "Afoyo" "Afoyo ma tek" (Acholi greeting/ thanks) but rather that man had told me I love you and I replied with I love you very much. Oh dear.