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.