Corruption: Not just a third world thing

For the last 3 weeks, protesters have gathered on Wall Street in NYC, and other major cities, to protest the greed and corruption that is increasingly characterizing the U.S. economy. It is easy in America to feel that it is the Third World where problems like corruption and greed run rampant. For instance, while we were in Uganda we saw President Museveni spend millions on unneeded fighters jets from Russia while the people of his country suffered from rising food and gas prices. The members of Parliament thought their time spent representing the people (a.k.a. embezzeling money) needed to be rewarded so they gave themselves a raise from 15 million schillings to 20 million schillings (around $8,000 a month compared to the $200 a teacher in Uganda makes). It seems in the Third World those in power don't feel the need to hide their corruption. They have the money, power, influence, and army so they are going to do whatever it is that they want.
But in America it is a bit more subtle. The same spirit is there (self-interest), it is just manifest a bit differently. Last year the Supreme Court ruled that there should no longer be any limit on campaign contributions given to politicians from coporations. This opened the flood gates to oppurtunities for big companies to be even more influential than they have been in years past, using their purchasing power to help make decisions on major issues like war, the economy, and immigration. For example, the war in Iraq is the most privatized war in American history allowing military-contractors to collectively make billions off of armed conflict. Banks and large corporations who are too big to fail, are bailed out by American tax dollars at the same time continuing the bonuses of their CEO's while the middle-class shrinks. In a free-market, capitalist economy, are companies supposed to be too big to fail? (The 4 largest banks in America, Bank of America, J.P Morgan, Citigroup, and Wells Fargo issue 2/3 of the credit cards in America and 1/2 of the mortgages ;"If we will not endure a king as a political power we should not endure a king over the production, transportation, and sale of any of the necessaries of life."-John Sherman) Lastly, the immigration bill in Arizona that was passed last year allowing police officers to ask people suspected of being illegal immigrants to show identification, was written, amongst others, by the largest private prison corporation in America, CCA. That bit of information only came out on NPR months after the bill was put in place. So what you have in all these cases are backroom deals made by politicians and corporate heads who write up legislation that benefits the Americans that really matter, the stockholders.
One thing we tried to do in Uganda was bring a critical consciousness to the classroom. The "banking-model" of education has teachers depositing knowledge into students' heads so they can regurgitate it back on some test. This is basically how it is in the Ugandan classroom as teachers read word for word from their notes while the students transcribe. But when you take math, science, history, and current events and put it into a context that gives the subject meaning to the students, you open up an awareness of the reasons for the plight of their families, communties, country, and world, and you empower them to be an agent of change and use the moral energy Howard Zinn talks about to bring justice, peace, love, and forgiveness to our world and root out the corruption and greed exemplified by First and Third worlds alike. So as we re-examine our framework for viewing the Third World and developing countries, let us remember that the vices associated with money and power are not only present in the blatant injustices in far away lands, but in the subtleties of patriotic slogans, free-market fundamentalism, racism, and very simply humans.

Justice?

This past Wednesday Troy Davis was put death in the state of Georgia. In 1989, he was convicted of killing an off-duty police officer who was trying to help a homeless man who was getting mugged. Despite there being no physical evidence linking him to the crime, 7 of the 9 eye witnesses recanting their stories, world wide protest from Paris to Peru, from Hong Kong to London, and requests for a stay coming from Jimmy Carter, Desmond Tutu, and Pope Benedict, Troy davis was executed.
The following day I asked my students their thoughts on Capital Punishment and Troy Davis. One student pointed out the fact that Casey Anthony's case was covered by most major news networks and despite some pretty solid evidence against her (in his opinion), she wasn't convicted. Meanwhile, the Troy Davis case didn't reach the public radar (except by way of the independent news network Democracynow.org) until the morning after his sentence was carried out. I pointed out that fact that increasingly our media is being controlled by fewer and fewer corporations that can make for some not so fair and balanced coverage. Another student said she thinks that those who own the media want people to be "good American citizens" and use TV to make people think a certain way (it amazes me what 7th graders can be aware of).
I gave the students homework to "ask a human" their thoughts on Capital Punishment in America and the following day we discussed their findings. One parent pointed to the fact that it costs tax payers money to keep convicts in jail for life. Why should we pay for convicted killers to live out their days in the comfort of prison when that money could be put to better uses. This was presented as one of those logical, matter-of-fact comments that, alongside "people hate America because we are free" and "Obama is a muslim," needn't be checked up on. When you look at the price to execute prisoners in this country, you find that the cost of pre-trials, judges, forensic experts, death row, etc. put the price tag at millions of dollars for the tax payers. It is actually cheaper to incarcerate fellons for life then execute them. (amnestyusa.org)
Aside from the profit-driven argument, I want to focus on the value Christ puts on a person's life. (After all I can't picture Jesus screaming for joy at the GOP debate when the moderator asked Rick Perry a question regarding his state's execution record, SCARY!) It is my humble understanding that God is the ultimate judge and that Christ died so that all could have the chance to be reconciled to the Father. After all there are none righteous, not even one, and with the new qualifications in 1 John about what is considered murdered, simply hating your brother, we all deserve death. But where is justice? The world tells us that killers are the ones that deserve death and that there are times when taking life is justified. But the Word tells us to overcome evil with good and not to repay evil with evil if we want to be children of our Father in Heaven.
I think back to my time in Uganda and the conversations I had with Father Martin at the parish. To be sure there are plenty of people in Uganda that want Joseph Kony dead, but there are others who are ready and willing to extend love and forgiveness to the worst of offenders in order to allow healing and reconciliation to take place. Of course this option is the one that is the hardest to live by, but Jesus didn't call us to an easy life.
My hope is that we can all at least re-examine how to measure the value of life in regards to capital punishment, war, and economics, and that those who claim to follow Christ would base their judgements on the teachings of a homeless Jewish carpenter living in an occupied country loaded down with murderers and injustice, and not political and cultural ideologies that are given to us by politicians who are more concerned with keeping their corporate oligarchic campaign contributors happy. Peace to you all, especially the families of Troy Davis and Mark MacPhail.

Reflections on our journey...

So, as we are now home and beginning to reflect on the experiences that we had in Uganda, it seems fitting to begin to process through our journey and answer some of the typical questions that are being posed. I realize that many people are curious as to what daily life was like for us in Uganda, especially since many folks have certain ideas in their minds about what Africa must be like. First of all, I find it important to address the term "Africa"... many people are curious to know how are trip to Africa was, or how is Africa? Africa is an extremely large continent with 54 countries and over a thousand languages are spoken there. Consequently, our limited experience in Uganda is not adequate enough to address the other 53 countries, or even adequate enough to address the conditions for everyone in Uganda, since we were only in the North and spoke one language out of the 56 that are in Uganda: Luo. However, we can describe the daily and beautiful life that we experienced with the people there. Here is a glimpse into that life...

Each morning we would wake up to the sound of roosters crowing outside and children laughing at the well pumping water even before the sun fully rose in the sky. Then, the most beautiful sound of music would fill the air at the Parish as the Christians met in the church for morning prayers. Some mornings we would attend and then take breakfast with the Fathers and other mornings we would walk to school for morning assembly. The walk to school was always exhilarating. We would begin moving to school when we would hear the echo of the hand bell being rung in the school courtyard. The sun would be large and glowing in the sky on the horizon, the morning dew would be covering the earth, and the crisp cool air of the rainy season left you feeling awake and energized. Walking to school would sometimes take much longer than the distance should require because each person passed along the path stops and greets one another. I will never forget the way that people genuinely greet one another and share true concern about how each person is doing. When arriving at the school, we would see all of the students standing in a semi-circle around the flag poles. Students, teachers, and the Head Teacher (principal) would get up and make verbal announcements to the entire school. This process would sometimes take even up to an hour, from 7 am- 8 am. Communication and honesty are highly regarded values in Acholi culture. After assembly, we would have class on certain days and on other days we would have planning time in the staff room (the school schedules are set up more like a college than that of our high schools and the teachers travel to the classrooms that the students meet in). Around 10:40 am the entire school has a break, and the staff have morning tea and breakfast together. This was my favorite meal of the day, we would have fried donuts with hot sweet tea... very delicious. Mid-morning we would have class and more interaction with students, go for a walk, play scrabble, go sit under the tree and have deep discussions with staff or students, or many different relational experiences... no day ever looked the same. We would typically take a late lunch around 2:00, and then return to classes where we would engage students through dialogue and active learning strategies (all of this we would do with our team-teacher, we weren't teaching by ourselves, because that wasn't the point- the point was for teachers to professionally develop together). Then after classes, around 4:40, we would have our club meetings... I would meet with the writer's club and Chris would meet with the service club to work in the garden at the Parish. The writer's club students were very inspired to use their voices in order to create a better community and a better Uganda. They are some of the most disciplined and self-driven students I have ever witnessed in my life. After club meetings, I would usually walk with Florence back to her home after school. The sun would be starting to descend on the horizon and the glow of the pink sky off of the grassy savannah made you feel as if all was right with the world, and it made it hard to ever imagine that war had just ravaged this place for 25 years. Florence and I would stroll slowly together and discuss our favorite parts of the day, or even laugh together about students. Her daughters and her granddaughter live there at her home, and the door would always be open for visitors. Acholi people are very communal. Their doors are typically open throughout the day so that people can stop in and say hello or even share a meal together. Afterward, I would sit on Jacob's stoop with the other I.C. teachers and have tea while watching the sun set or I would walk back toward the Parish and play with lots of the village children along the way. Each evening at the Parish I would be greeted as if the Fathers had not seen me in a while, so much joy and large smiles would be displayed as I entered the gates and walked toward the home..."Lamaro, welcome back." Chris and the boys would head back from the garden and we would all take coffee, eat g-nuts, or roast corn together before supper. The best conversations took place during this time... the time spent in the evenings outside in the garden or around the Parish table at dinner. Meals were always delicious and conversations always beautiful. The table would be approached with prayer and as we finished our meals we would end with communal prayer as well. We would start eating dinner around 7:45 and retire from the table sometime between 9:30 and 10. With no TV or constant electricity, we would head to bed to read or journal by lamp light, and then pray a heartfelt prayer of thanksgiving for the blessings of that day.

Many people are beginning to open up conversations with us about our trip with statements such as, "Wow, I bet you are so glad to be home..." and then they mention something about our suffering with malaria or ecoli. Indeed, I am thankful to see my family, friends, and new students...but, if "I bet you are so glad to be home" is inferring that I would not want to be there in Anaka, then that statement is not true because home is a place where you are connected in a deep way to the people who dwell there through genuine relationship and love, therefore one new home for us is Anaka... and we miss the people there dearly. Most conversations and even recent e-mails received have had genuine (and some not so genuine) concern about our physical health. Hopefully, many of you read my last post, "A heavy heart and a mind enlightened"... but as stated in that post- malaria, and my experience with that disease, drew me closer to understanding the plight of many people around the world and it also provided an amazing opportunity for Christ to show up and display the power of his love that is at work in the Body of Believers.

It seems as though some people believe that when Chris and I have travelled to other parts of the world to serve others, that we are going there on a mission to rescue people. But the truth of the matter is that while we were in Uganda God rescued us from our own brand of poverty. He rescued us from the Western poverty of individualism that is focused on self. When a person from the West travels to a war torn region it is very easy to sink into the mindset of "savior," believing that the people on the margins need us way more than we need them. All of us desperately need the economically and physically vulnerable, the "least of these" to help us see ourselves, and God's kingdom, differently. This revelation was in the forefront of my mind throughout our experience, but it so evidently occurred to me while I was sick with malaria. There I was in bed at the Parish, and the very people that I came to serve, people who have seen so much suffering and pain in their lifetimes, were there by my side serving me with the love of Christ and I desperately needed them. A passage from one of my favorite authors, Shane Claiborne, rang through my mind in the midst of that moment...

"Take care of the sick and give a cup of cold water to the least of these, Jesus taught his followers, and you enter into a mysterious and profound encounter. And of all the holy moments I experienced while in Northern Uganda, it's fair to say that this was the holiest- and the most disorienting. For in that encounter, I went from serving the least to becoming the least, and in the process I remembered something about myself I'd forgotten. I remembered that despite my economic security and relative power to affect change in the world, I'm as poor in spirit as anyone. I'm not anybody's savior; I'm just another vulnerable human being. To remember this fact was to be rescued from my own self-sufficiency and from an inflated sense of my own self importance. This experience of seeing myself as one of the least was both painful and beautiful at once, which is often what it feels like to be ushered a step further into the kingdom of God."

Without the pure and gentle reminders about Truth from my dear Acholi brothers and sisters, we would continue to be impoverished- but when you draw near to people and yoke your lives together- to give of what we have and to receive from them in kind... everything changes. Life changes.

If you truly desire to know the details of our trip or how our experience went, then please know that we, two vulnerable human beings, travelled and met with other vulnerable human beings, and our souls connected through grace, joy, and love. We lived life together for 6 weeks, and none of us will ever be the same. And, through this, I pray that we may all open our eyes and begin to live life together wherever we are.

WWII vet in Acholi land?

I walked down the dirt path very eager to see the home of one of the students from Anaka named Denis. He had invited me to visit his village while we were working in the garden at the Parish transplanting trees the previous day and I immediately accepted. We approached the three huts that make up his family's homestead. The huts sat on freshly swept dirt and were surrounded by fields of simsim, g-nuts, and corn. Baby goats grazed outside of Denis' personal hut, they were trying to get milk from their mother as we walked inside. We were waiting for Denis' mother to come and greet us. After a few minutes, she came and I found out she did not speak any English. However, she expressed to me that I was more than welcome by the bright smile she wore and the gift of millet and g-nut paste that she brought for us to eat.

After lunch we walked about 70 yards to his grandfather's house who I was very excited to see and interview. The day before, Denis had told me that his grandfather had actually fought in WWII. This came as a shock at first, but Denis explained that his grandfather and many other Acholi people had been rounded up and forced to fight by their colonial masters, the British, during the war. As I walked onto his grandfather's land, we found him taking his rest under a shade tree sitting in a chair. We exchanged greetings and Denis, who acted as the translator, got his permission for me to interview him on my video camera. Here is his story.....

When Denis' grandfather was 16 years old, he was taken out of school and forced to fight in a war that he didn't have much knowledge or stake in. He was a member of the Acholi tribe who were seen by the British as a being very strong and brave and therefore useful as manpower in their fight against the axis powers. So at a young age he was put on a plane and shipped to Ethiopia to fight in a land he didn't know and for a country he didn't belong to. Without the motivation of a sense of duty or patriotism, his sole reason for fighting... was survival. Kill the enemy and get back home was what drove him. During his time he met people from all over the world, Israel, Japan, America, Europe, etc. but he really desired to be back with his own people. After two years when he finally did make it back, he danced for joy on his native soil that he thought he would never see again.

I was thrilled to have had the opportunity to hear this man's tale, but the last question from our interview was for me. He asked if I thought the British were ever going to pay him and his people the money that was promised for the work that they did during the war. I felt a little awkward, but told him I was unsure of Britain's intentions. However, in my head I was thinking that there is no way that this man is ever going to see a dime for what he did during those years of war. I thanked him for his time and Denis and I walked back to the school.

It is so amazing the people that God allows us to meet in this life. I am forever thankful for moments like these and it really makes me value the power of people's story to help us better understand ourselves and our world. May we all continue to have an open mind, to have conversations, and to have a greater awareness as we journey. Peace.

The Ethics of Aid

The title from this post comes from an article we discussed at one of the conferences in Gulu. It calls into question just how much good Aid really does for developing nations. This Aid could take the form of economic, food, clothing, or even military. In his book "A Continent for the Taking," Howard French says,

"Uganda had posted an 8 to 10 percent growth rate throughout the 1990's...because the growth was brought about largely through massive flows of aid from the United States, Britain, the International Monetary Fund, and the World Bank. The almighty international financial institutions had become a government in absentia for the entire African continent in the post-Cold War era."

On paper the economies of many developing nations can seem to be showing signs of growth, but this is an illusion. You have Western powers handing money to corrupt governments and the people never see any benefit whatsoever. If you work in many African governments, there is no need for you to work with your own people to develop your economy and infrastructure because you know that the aid money is coming in every year. This leads to a cycle of corruption on the part of developing governments on the one hand and a cycle of irresponsibility of the part of big governments, banks, and corporations on the other. This is why it was no surprise to me that while we were in Uganda the members of parliament gave themselves a raise from 15 million schillings a month to 20 million schillings a month, or around $8,000. Meanwhile teachers and other professionals are struggling to survive amidst rising food and gas prices on a mere 200,000-400,000 schillings a month or $150-$350. The question would be why do the economic powers of the world continue to condone or turn a blind eye to this obvious abuse of power?

Meanwhile, the average person in the west hears the word aid and assumes that it is a good thing (I know I did). But when you start to think about donating food and clothes to these countries you begin to see that it is only putting a bandaid on something that needs surgery. In 2008 my class raised money for an orphanage in Kenya. Along with money, we sent over some boxes of clothes, which I assumed was a fairly good idea for children in an orphanage. However, when people in the west send all these unused and unwanted clothes to the people in developing countries, it knocks the bottom out of the prices for their locally made textiles and never gives them a chance to develop there own economies. So the people who make clothes in Uganda for instance, have to rely on tourists and wealthier Ugandans to make money. Why would the people by clothes if they can get them for free?

Likewise, food aid also knocks the bottom out of the price for locally grown crops keeping farmers always struggling to make it in the globalized world. For instance, the U.S. subsidizes corn from Idaho and sends it over to countries that have plenty of people who can grow corn. On top of that, the seed that gets sent as "aid" is often genetically modified which makes the farmers unable to harvest the seed from that crop because that seed won't produce the following year. This breeds dependence for farmers who have to buy new seeds every single year. This isn't to say that people don't need food aid. Right now in several East African countries there is a famine going on and people can not farm because of lack of rain and are in need of food. What I am saying is the west needs to quit giving handouts to people who have the means to farm and who have been able to grow their own crops for thousands of years.

With a new context to understand global aid, I asked many of our Ugandan teachers what they thought was the best way for a person in the west who genuinely cares about people to help developing countries? The answer was almost unanimous across the board: By-pass the corrupt governments and work directly with the people on projects that help them live a sustainable life and develop their own country. This takes a bit more effort on the part of westerners to do some research into the projects they are giving money to. A good place to start would be education and micro-economic projects. An education gives all of us a better understanding of our world so we can all begin work to weed out corruption, war, greed, self-interest, and begin to substitute these things for peace, justice, compassion, and a selfless love. Invisible Children has a great scholarship program that supports kids in their learning and keeps them accountable for doing their best. IC also has micro-economic programs that give people skills, dignity, and the profits from their labor. My hope is that those of us who have the resources and means and the love in our hearts to help will put forth that effort and begin to give a lasting aid to people who deserve to have basic needs met and who deserve to be loved.

A heavy heart and a mind enlightened...

My heart is heavy these days. So heavy in fact, that my chest literally aches. I am not sure how it happens... getting so attached and falling so in love with people in such a short amount of time... but although this process is indescribable, its reality is clear and sharp. I have found myself on the verge of tears several times this past week while thinking about leaving this place, these people, and this experience of life and community here. I am not even sure where to begin in reflecting on the past few days. I am almost apprehensive to even try to articulate some of the week's interactions. Apprehensive because I don't want to water down the experiences that we've had, and apprehensive because I don't want to strip them of their raw beauty by creating descriptions with words that do not do those moments justice.
As many of you know, I contracted malaria in the last days of our time in Anaka. I am sure that at hearing this, many people may be feeling stereotypes of Africa affirmed in their minds... or are responding by saying that is exactly why he/she does not travel to this beloved continent. But when people think of Chris and my journey to Uganda, I don't want them to think of our struggle with malaria in this way. I am thankful that I went through the experience of this disease. We have been living in community and in solidarity with the beautiful Acholi people, and the reality is, most developing nations, including the Acholi...face diseases like malaria daily. Adults and children fight malaria regularly. I caught a glimpse of their suffering, but through that suffering I captured an overflowing cup of their blessing.
The Acholi value relationships. They love hard. They love people and invest, daily, in their friendships and families. During my sickness, I was able to observe the magnitude of their love for friends and community. While I was bound to my bed at the parish, my room was constantly filled with visitors... students, teachers, administrators, and church members visiting me to hold my hand, pray, or just sit to keep company. Tears would stream down my face in an overwhelming feeling of gratitude... that in the midst of my physical weakness, God was providing me immeasurable spiritual strength through His Body- believers in Uganda and in the U.S. praying for me in that moment.
I pray that this is the truth of the story that comes out and is repeated... that in the midst of struggle and suffering, the Body of Christ unifies and reflects the powerful love of God. I will never forget the relationships that God allowed me to forge in Northern Uganda. The people there have left a lasting impact on my life. Florence taught me to view suffering through a lens of mercy and grace, Doris taught me to joyfully give myself to others in selfless friendship, and Father Martin affirmed in me that a life that lives to serve others is a life that is more fulfilled than with any other pursuit. These are only a few examples of the lessons that I learned from my Acholi brothers and sisters on a front porch over tea, on a long walk crying together, and through many dinner discussions. I pray that we may all begin to shed the layers of our lives that isolate us from one another... materialism, profit, image, selfishness, fear, pride, etc.... and embrace the beauty of allowing ourselves to truly feel what it means to be human- being connected to one another through relationships based in grace and love. Let us learn from the Acholi. Let us learn from Christ. I love you all. Thank you for your prayers and for travelling through our processes and throughts along this journey... we will have a few more posts before we wrap up the blog.

Check out Pics of our adventure!!!

Hey everyone... So, we finally have some pics uploaded online. We created a shutterfly site with some pics that capture a glimpse of our experience here. We hope that you enjoy them- be sure to read the captions under the pics so that you know what you are seeing :)

www.makingthemvisible.shutterfly.com

Love you all so much! C & B

Father Martin vs. The Machine Gun Preacher

While Chris was resting in bed with ecoli, I decided to get out of the house for a bit and head to one of the local coffee shops in Gulu to update our blog and grab a cup of coffee. As I was sitting in the corner, sharing my table with an Acholi friend, an interesting man walked through the door. He was in his late forties and literally looked like he just hopped off his Harley at the Ocoee Express across the street from our TN home. Of course I couldn't help but try to eavesdrop as to who this Muno (white person) was, because all of the munos running around Gulu are usually 20-somethings that look like river hippies. So, I started listening to him talk to people... and it dawned on me as to who this old biker dude was... a man I had seen a Dateline special about on NBC a year ago, and also read about him on the IC blog... the infamous Sam Childers, the machine gun preacher. He is a man who has lived here in Northern Uganda for about 15 years. He moved here shortly after he became a Christian because he had become aware of the situation here with the LRA, and he felt inspired to move to the region to create an army of his own and fight Joseph Kony's fire with fire. As I sat quietly listening to a conversation that was not necessarily intended for my ears, I heard Sam proudly tell this group of Canadian girls at the table next to him that he had been fighting the LRA for 15 years and it was because of his Sudanese People's Liberation Army that Kony and his child soldiers are now in the bush of the Congo and Sudan. I felt my blood begin to rise to my face at the thought of this older man taking a gun to fight the child soldiers who were once violently abducted and victimized... moreover, this man was claiming to be a preacher.
So, as I was walking out the door of the coffee shop to head back to the house to check on Chris, Sam touched my arm... "Hey young lady, and what country are you from?" I looked him in the eyes and responded by telling him I was from the U.S. Upon further inquisition, I proceeded to tell him I was a teacher and from TN. Then, I couldn't help myself... I had to ask him... "How do you reconcile the message of Jesus Christ with taking a gun and fighting victimized children?" He calmly smiled and said... "All I can say is that if I am in line in front of you before the judgement seat one day, you will have a long wait..." he chuckled... "I don't justify what I have done with the Word, I just felt as if there was no other option. I have seen people skinned alive, women mutilated beyond belief, and children abused in the most violent ways... if you ask them if what I have done is right or wrong... I am sure they will testify for my actions." I listened intently and he went on to say..."I have started 3 orphanages and rescued over 1,000 boys and girls from the bush, and I've never pulled my gun on a child. If someone was getting killed across the street right now, you may stand here and pray, but I am going to pray and then run over there to stop it." We continued to talk and he expounded upon his cause... as well as telling me that a movie was being made about his life called, "Machine Gun Preacher" with Gerard Butler from 300 as his character (I honestly thought this was a complete lie until I googled it and saw that it is totally for real and the movie comes out September 23). He concluded the conversation by sharing with me a story..."I discovered where one of the most infamous LRA commanders was staying and I travelled there to personally assasinate him because he had raped and abused many of the children at my orphanage in Gulu. When I arrived at the Acholi Inn, I walked up to the man and felt God speak to me. I wanted to kill this man so bad, but the Lord was urging me to share the gospel with him. I reluctantly sat down and began to talk with him. At the end of the conversation, he had confessed his sins and accepted the love and grace of Jesus Christ as his personal saviour. I left the Acholi Inn so angry because I wanted to kill that man so bad... but then I felt God speak to my heart and say, 'Sam, that man is dead... the old man is dead and he has been born again. You did kill him.'"
I walked out of Coffee Hut that day with a million thoughts running through my mind and I knew the exact person I wanted to share this experience with... one of our Spiritual Fathers here- Father Martin. When we got back to Anaka and sat down to dinner at the Parish, I shared the above experience with the Father. He smiled and mumbled, "Hmmmm..." Father continued to respond, "You know, during those dark times of war, almost every person in Acholi land was abducted by the LRA. Including myself and Father Thomas." Father Thomas said yes in agreement. Father Martin went on, "We have seen so much suffering and we have personally experienced the things that that preacher told you about (Father Thomas shared his abduction story and escape... then Father Martin continued to share his words of wisdom). However, you cannot heal a land filled with violence with more violence. That may seem like a quick solution, but in the end it only brings more pain and revenge. We need to look to Christ's true example of reconciliation in order to learn how to heal this land. Forgiveness must exist in the darkness in order to bring about Truth and Light." As we sat mesmerized by the wisdom of God, Father Martin told us about the coalition of Acholi religious leaders (Christian and Muslim) who have come together for the past decade to work for peace through non-violent means. He shared the powerful successes that they have experienced in bringing about peace to this place. Peace and healing through relationship, truth, and love. Perhaps we should all process through the commands of Christ, even in the most horrific and extreme situations. May we all humbly continue to work out our salvation with prayer, experience, and the grace of Christ. I love you all... and by the way, Chris is doing much better. Thanks again for your prayers.

The man, the myth, the legend...Norman Okot

In the same way that wise Athena directed Oddyseus on his long journey home, we all are blessed to meet people who drop nuggets of wisdom that help us in our pursuit of Truth...
The phone rang and one of our housemates told us that Norman Okot was at the Ethiopian restaurant. We met Norman last year at the "Move for Uganda" race in Chattanooga. He is a 73 year old elder of the Acholi people and amongst many other things, a teacher. He held us and our students spell bound as he went to work on a chalkboard describing in detail the history of Uganda from Colonialism by the British to the war that left the North devastated. So now that we were actually in Uganda we were psyched that God allowed our paths to cross once again. I wasn't sure if he would remember us since he traveled for three months throughout the Southern part of the U.S. bringing awareness of the plight of Ugandans. As soon as we walked into the restaurant, with a beaming smile, he yelled our names and gave us one of those hugs that leaves people feeling loved. We chatted for awhile and promised to meet again before we left for the States. Last night the promise was fufilled.
"A fire in Acholi culture, is a classroom." As such, we all sat by the crackling wood as Norman told how the British made their way from Egypt into Sudan and Uganda at the turn of the century, motivated by those deadly vices that are common to empires: greed and power. He remembers how the British pressed the Acholi people into service during WWI and WWII, wars of which they had no interest, nor would they gain anything. His British teachers in school, many of them former soldiers, were very harsh and one in particular would keep order in the class by reminding the students of how many people he had killed.
Norman's father was a polygamist and culturally was a very important man. He taught his son many lessons by the fire like how to read the stars to know when to plant crops and when it would rain, or the sounds that certain birds make when there is trouble nearby. Above all he taught his son that a real Acholi man is brave. So in his youth when some local boys threw a spear at him that pierced his thigh, it is no surpirse that he drew his arrows out and let them fly.
Norman told us of the losses that he had experienced during the war between the L.R.A and the government. In one day, 40 of his nieces and nephews were killed in an attack by rebels. They were unable to bury the bodies because they had been hacked to pieces, so they had to be put in a mass grave. I asked Norman what seperates someone like him who has experienced so much pain and horror in life yet has so much joy, from others who are lost in depression, anger, or madness. The wisdom that he answered with transcends Acholi culture and enters into the realm of those Truths that are eternal. "Forgiveness," he said. A person cannot expect to be healed from heartache without forgiving those who have caused them to hurt. The words of Christ rang in my mind that we are to "love our enemies" and "pray for those who persecute us." In front of me sat a man who had lived those commandments and was left with a hope and confidence that the world cannot understand. The choice to love and forgive is, above all other responses, the most difficult. But the hope is that those choices that are made by individuals, families, and countries will bring us closer to that Kingdom that was spoken of by Christ.

Sick

When it was suggested that Oddyseus descend into Hades in order to find the best route home, his men were hesitant. But our hero braved the darkness and despair to recieve the answer to his question. So too did I have to descend into the bowels to recieve an answer......
It all began when we were in Murchison park on Safari. We were on top of our SUV enjoying our surroundings when my stomach went from slightly upset to full on cramps. I chalked it up to too much food the night before coupled with some wild dancing around the fire that would have made Native Americans proud and left our Acholi drivers very confused about the culture of white Americans. But after I had a "long-call" and puked my guts out I realized it was something more. Long story short we finished the Safari and by the time we all were going to board the boat to go to Murchison Falls, I was laying on a mat with severe cramping being told by locals that I should really go to the hospital. I opted out of the river cruise and went with Bonnie and Catherine to the local doctor.
I crawled out of the car and walked to the stool sampling room in the back. The sun shone bright on the local livestock feeding and children playing as I shut the door into all that is unsanitary. A healthy sized lizard ran up the walls of the latrine obviously unable to go when another is in the room. The fecal stains on the wall resembled ancient cave paintings and with the number of dung drawings so high, it can be assumed that this "cave" had been occupied many times. Sample gathered, I exited the prehistoric potty and resumed breathing through my nose. The doc was back in ten minutes to inform me that I had a parasite and Ecoli going to work in my tummy.
When we got back to the parish I was checked out by Father Martin's nurse who said the dose of medicine I took was wrong and that I probably had malaria. (This seems to be a common form of consoling among Ugandans since our guide on Safari, upon seeing what I had for dinner the night before, assured me that it was surely just a touch of malaria.) We went to Gulu to get the test and it was negative for malaria, but they confirmed that the first doctor's results and advice was correct.
So sadly I spent the next week in Gulu and Anaka in the bed, but did enjoy some wonderful conversation with the priests and workers at the parish. I am so blessed to know those beautiful people. I also want to thank everyone who was praying for me. God is so good! I am excited to finish strong at Anaka these next two weeks and continue to develop the service club with students to help garden and work at the Parish. Peace.

Speechless...

Anaka.... wow. I feel quite speechless when I even begin to think about the past two weeks we have spent there. The village is located on the edge of Murchison National Park, which is where people travel to for Safari. The school and the surrounding village (as well as the Catholic parish where Chris and I are staying) are located on the top of a large hill, so as you walk around the perimeter and scan the countryside- the view of the landscape is right out of a dream. The area is very rural, and as far as the eye can see, the green terrain of agriculture fills the horizon... and every once in a while you catch a glimpse of a woman walking with a bundle of g-nuts on top of her head or the sight of a grass-thatch hut comes into view. It is picturesque Africa.

Most evenings Chris and I sit on the front porch of Jacob's villa (a peace-corps volunteer) and sip hot tea as the sun goes down. The horizon is also gorgeous in the morning. Every day we walk to school at 7 am- we walk past the church and the soothing sound of African worship fills the air, the children from the village are up pumping water at the well, and we are greeted by everyone that we pass. We now have Acholi names... Father Martin has given me the name "Lamaro" which means "one who is greatly loved" in Acholi... and Chris has been given the name "Okeny" which means that he is the "only man in a family of women" because he is the only male teacher among our I.C. group at Anaka. Those names are becoming a beautiful part of our experience here as we build relationships with folks and share life together.

The parish, where we live, is a beautiful community of believers and Father Martin has truly become a spiritual father to us here. Chris has started a service club with students and they are working in the garden at the parish everyday after school. He is hoping to inspire them to serve others in a great way. The gardening at the Parish helps support the feeding of those in need in the surrounding villages. The students love Chris, and I think they are pretty fond of us all. It warms my heart to even reflect on the joyful smiles that conquer their faces when I am teaching. We have fallen in love with the kids that we are interacting with, and our relationships with the staff at the school are growing into strong friendships. Because of student interest, I have started a writer's club. The student leaders at the school have applied to be a part. Together with them, I am trying to help develop a school newspaper where the students can express their views and build an intellectual culture at the school.

This past Saturday morning we received such a gift. We heard amazing music filling the air from the parish, so Chris and I followed the sound down to a classroom filled with students who were playing instruments, singing, dancing, and praising Christ with their whole hearts. On their own, they were holding a church service. Tears were streaming down some of their faces and their prayers echoed off of the walls. The spirit was so heavy in that room and God used their worship to touch my soul.

We have received so many gifts like this while we have been a part of the Anaka family. Beautiful moments that I am already cherishing in my heart so much. A few of them... Chris and Father Martin exchanging worship songs on the guitar out underneath the stars in the Parish garden... going for a walk with Doris, a young English teacher, and getting invited to harvest g-nuts with an elderly Acholi woman during our stroll... playing scrabble for hours with teachers in the staff room after school... going for fieldwork on a 3 mile hike through the bush with the entire history department and 200 students... watching Chris be the only white guy in the staff vs. students soccer match (he played awesome by the way)... sitting in my partner teacher's (Florence) living room looking through albums of pictures and listening to her heartfelt stories of her life and the war... and watching the students perform traditional Acholi dances on the soccer field in the evening. All of these moments... and many more... leave me so thankful and literally, speechless, when it comes to articulating how my heart feels in this place. Chris and I are so humbled, and blessed, to have this incredible experience. We love you all so much. Thank you for your prayers. They are much appreciated and the fruit of them is being witnessed by us everyday.

The Wisdom of Michael

Oddyseus has just been released from the island of the goddess Calypso and was off for "home at last" when the god of the sea Poseidon wrecked his ship and left him to his fate in the churning waters. But with the help of Athena and Ino he reached land on the coast of Phaeacia. It is here that he is welcomed by king Alcinous with the utmost hospitality... I can say that I have felt the same here in Northern Uganda among the Acholi, as Oddyseus felt among the Phaeacians. We spent a couple hours this afternoon at St. Jude's Orphanage playing with the children there. I had a blast playing soccer with Joshua and Paul. These kids are ballers. When I missed the ball on our record setting attempt of kicking it to each other in the air, I was assured that "there is no need to sweat." The only thing that can rival their coolness on the field is their suave personalities; joyful dudes to be sure. It seems odd or even awkward dropping into an orphanage for a few hours and then leaving. However I was very glad to hear that Invisible Children has developed a relationship with this orphanage for several years and we will have an opportunity to go back each week. At the least, it was humans interacting with humans, all with smiles on their faces. This afternoon I sat underneath the well built pavillion in our compound with its architect Michael. We talked about the history of Uganda, the Acholi people, religion and I felt as if I was receiving a private lecture. This 30 year old father of three who finished O Level(high school) but did not go on to A level talked with the ease of any University professor. When we came to religion, he told me that there are people in Northern Uganda who are becoming turned off by religion because it is becoming more and more like a business. So many branches and denominations are popping up and many are modeling themselves after churches in the west where building size and programming takes precident over actually taking Christ's Kingdom to the poor of a person's community and helping to transform their lives. We talked about the passage where God says "heaven is my throne and the Earth is a footstool for my feet, what manner of house will you build me?" Also where Christ prays that believers would be united, not divided, so that the world would recognize His followers. There is so much to process in this life and I think that two of the main tools needed along the journey are humility and awareness. It was good journeying with Michael today and having "church" with an Acholi member of Christ's Kingdom outside while the rain beat on the thatched roof of our pavillion.

Teacher Exchange in Northern Uganda

click on this picture link to see more pics of our first few days! :)

Beautiful Community... the Body of Christ

Today we attended Watoto Church. As we walked down the African rich red dirt road this morning, children ran out of their huts to greet us (the "munos"- white people), and the sound of worshipful singing filled the air. It was beautiful. We entered the church and I began to pray. It was incredible to catch a glimpse of what the heavenly kingdom of God will be like; many nations praising and worshiping Christ in every language and tongue. We felt so welcome.

The Pastor mentioned something that was so powerful, he said... "When you came to know Christ and were born again, God did not immediately take you up into heaven to be with him because you are suppossed to rub shoulders with His loved ones, the needy of the earth." He went on to speak about Christ and how we have all be called to love and serve those who are suffering. He spoke about the needy in the community here, and encourgaged the body of believers to reach out and love them. We also partook in communion with one another- a beautiful demonstration of the Spirit that we share.

Humanity is humanity. There is nothing new under the sun. Gulu is beginning to rebuild and there are some people here who are prospering, but there are many who are suffering, very many. It is very similar to our own communities. We often turn a blind eye to those around us in the U.S. who are hurting. Our eyes, all of our eyes, must be opened to the least of these in the world. Those who Christ loves and has called us to love. Chris and I hope that yesterday's post did not come across as our saying that we, or you, should not be reaching out to the people in Northern Uganda (or other developing nations)- we are just trying to encourage thoughtful consideration about how people should reach out... as Christ did... with real relationship, education, and sustainability. We know that we have been called to serve here. If you think about it, all of our bible studies, prayers, songs, and services mean absolutely nothing if we don't actually live a life that resembles Christ's... one that fully loves God, and wholeheartedly loves others in such a way that we die to ourselves so that it is not we who live, but Christ in us and through us into a lost and broken world.

We love you guys. We go to Anaka tomorrow... so the next update will be in about 5 days. Keep us in your prayers. :)

What is poverty?

Apwoyo (Hello in Acholi, sounds like a-FOY-yo) everyone!

Chris and I are sitting in a cafe here in Gulu, Northern Uganda. It's called Cafe Larem. Outside the window that I am sitting beside, there are children running down the gravel street and music is playing loudly from a nearby storefront. Our senses are so alive and engaged here. The scenery is majestic... the rich red earth, thatched roof huts, and lively city. We have had the most beautiful 3 days here. The Acholi people are so welcoming and Gulu is absolutely amazing.

We met our partner teachers last night at a formal dinner and party. My teacher's name is Florence, and she is so lovely! She taught me some Acholi dance moves last night- and she has been teaching for over 30 years! I am looking so forward to moving to Anaka on Monday to work with her! Chris met Geoffrey, his partner teacher. He loves him so much as well. The Acholi were so impressed with Chris' dance moves... His C-walk :). lol!

The past few days we have been here have been very busy. We've had orientations on language, culture, Ugandan teaching curriculum, etc. It has been a very enlightening experience to live in community with 30 other teachers from all over the U.S. and Canada. Our conversations have been interesting and encouraging. Yesterday, we had a powerful dialogue about good intentions and the impact of our being here. There was one question that truly stood out in my mind....
"What is poverty?" How do we measure how someone is poor, especially across cultures. During our conversation, an Acholi man named Jude explained to our group how many times western governments measure poverty here in Uganda by the number of families that live in huts. Jude shared that there are many successful Acholi who choose to live in a hut, because for most people it is highly revered and valued in their culture to retain some aspects of their traditional way of life. He then asked a painful question, "What, or who, are you trying to save us from? Ourselves? We are not in need of your way of life. What we do need is essential to all of humanity: education, long term relationships, and economic sustainability."

If, by western material standards, we evaluate the Acholi way of life, many of us would consider them poor. However, their simple way of life is much more rich than many of the affluent people in our American society who are isolated in their big homes- who have become slaves to time, the accumulation of stuff, and profit. Are the countless number of humans that occupy a countless number of huts in a countless number of villages throughout the world really poor? We are not talking about the starving, sick, or the homeless- but those who retain their diverse cultural way of life. Is their lack of electricty, plumbing, television, multiple rooms, or vehicles the appropriate measurement for determining their economic label? Or, does the fact that many of these people know everyone in their village and share life together make them rich in a way many Westerners can't understand? Do the materially poor only become unhappy and aware of their "poverty" when westerners show them what they don't have?

Jude went on... He said that people from the U.S. and other places have beautiful intentions of trying to help, but often times their aid does more harm than good. Often African Governments rely on the aid they know will be coming in from the governments of the world and use that money and loans from the IMF and World Bank to try and build up their economy. This usually helps the IMF, World Bank, and large corporations far more than it helps the actually people of the country. As long as the heads of these governments look to the west instead of their own entrepeneurs and businessman, the plight of the poor shall remain the same. He said that you can walk through the local market and see all kinds of broken computers, old refridgerators, and air-conditioners that were shipped here by people with good intentions, but by people who had no idea what the Acholi actually needed after the war... how can someone use any of those things living in a hut without electricity? We desperately need to have a long term relationship with those we serve, so that we can understand how to help meet their needs in a sustainable way that recognizes their humanity and culture... that is exactly what Invisible Children strives to do. What does this mean? Well, perhaps we should take an objective look at how we think developing nations should develop.... is it inevitable that they conform to hegemonic powers and the western world, or can they prosper and develop according to their own culture in a way that empowers and encourages healthy growth? We believe the latter to be true. And, in a very practical way, Jesus beautifully demonstrated this type of love to the people he interacted with by living in solidarity with those in need and providing for them according to their needs. He did not hand the blind or the leper golden coins or build them a big house... He gave them the healing that they desperately needed to satisfy the spirit and to acknowledge their value as human beings. Moreover, he did the same for all of us. He has known us even before we were in our mother's womb and he knew our direct need- spiritual healing and reconciliation to the Father. So, instead of handing or promising any of us the riches of the world, he offered us healing and freedom- an invitation to be a part of the eternal Kingdom of God. We have much to learn- and our prayer is that Christ would be so in us and love through us that the Acholi would not see us but Him and sense the powerful aroma of His grace. More to come... Love you all.

Post 2: Chris' thoughts on "The Odyssey"...

"How fortunate are we, whose home is timelessness; we who have wandered down from fragrant mountains of eternal now to frolic in such mysteries as birth and death a day or maybe even less." - E.E. Cummings

Odyssey- An epic or adventurous journey; an intellectual and spiritual quest.

I like the idea that everyone's life is an Odyssey, a journey through X number of years fighting, wandering, questioning, crying, sharing, laughing, searching... all in an attempt to reach our spiritual home; a kingdom not of this world. Much like brave Odysseus, man tries with all that he has to see "home at last." But it is only through the help of the One, True God, who knew us from a point of timelessness, that any of us should walk through the gates of that kingdom.

Who are we making visible?

As you may catch a glimpse of below, Chris and I began this journey of involvement with Invisible Children (http://www.invisiblechildren.com/) through our students. Year before last, we were both teaching 8th grade at rival middle schools and our students came together to passionately collaborate on an art show to raise money for Invisible Children. It was amazing to witness the fervor and compassion that our young students demonstrated toward youth their own ages who live in another part of the world.

This past school year, I had the honor of moving up with that class of students to Bradley Central High School. As soon as we started school I had many students coming up to me wanting to start an Invisible Children Schools 4 Schools club. So, we started the club- started raising money for the Schools 4 Schools competition- and by the end of a 100 day period, BCHS students won their region by raising $15,404. It was an amazing semester. Through our winning, Invisible Children gave BCHS the opportunity to send one student to Uganda and four students to San Diego this summer to attend an awesome activist conference called the 4th Estate.

Through these experiences we became inspired to apply for Invisible Children's Teacher Exchange Program. We witnessed our students demonstrating great passion to provide a voice for the voiceless in the world. For over 25 years a war has been waged in Central East Africa by a rebel army called the LRA, led by warlord Joseph Kony. During this time over 30,000 kids ages 5-14 have been abducted and forced to fight and kill. Just as our students could not hear this story without being compelled to act, we could not hear this story without being challenged to reach out as well.

Through every travel experience we have had, we are always changed in a great way. Many people have been asking us as we were getting prepared to leave for Uganda, "Is this a mission trip?". Well, that question is a very tricky one. You see, Chris and I believe that our whole lives are called to be a mission for the love and servanthood of Jesus Christ. Therefore, every aspect of our lives is a mission... our classrooms at home, our rafting trips, and our teaching in Uganda this summer. We hope that you will not interpret our blog title as a righteous endeavor to take some sort of special knowledge to a developing country and make their poverty and plight visible to you. Rather, we are travelling to Uganda as educators and as learners, most of all we hope to embody what Christ compels us to be- the servant of all. We hope that we will not only make the beautiful stories of Ugandans known to you, but that they will bring out beautiful things in us as well... that our eyes may be opened to a greater understanding of humanity and of God.

There tends to be a great poverty in Western civilization... a poverty of the spirit in which we believe that there are no needs we can't meet on our own- the goal is to be an island unto ourselves. Few of us believe that we need those on the margins of society as much as they need us. However, God desires to rescue each of us from our own brand of poverty. We need the economically and physically vulnerable to teach us that we are also vulnerable. We need "the least of these"- the Lazuruses of the world- to help us see ourselves, and God's kingdom, differently. It is good to remember that despite our economic security and relative power to affect change in the world, we are as poor in spirit as anyone. We are not anyone's savior; just two more vulnerable human beings. To remember this truth is to be rescued from our own self-sufficiency and from an inflated sense of our own self importance. We know that the experiences that we are about to have teaching and living in Uganda may be painful and beautiful all at once, which is often what it feels like to be ushered a step further into the kingdom of God. (Note : most of the ideas in this paragraph were taken from my recent reading... "Economy of Love" by Shane Claiborne).