Ben's village in Kaliro - redemption and restoration

Another update from Julie - a dear friend who has been with CLD for 3 years now, serving and serving and loving and serving. I admire and love her much!!!

Hello!

I see a crowd of people, a flock of faces. To Him every face is a child, every face has a name… and every child has a story.

‘Stories’ have endings - the resolve at the end makes the story worth following even though it may have been hard to get through. Being here in Uganda it’s hard to know which story to tell, which one I’m a part of and if I’ll ever get to bear witness to the resolve at the end.

I will never forget the one minute this man entered my story … I always describe traffic here as real-life video game, no rules and ‘every name for himself’. I thought I was having a hard time crossing the really busy intersection, until this man rolled up next to the crowd of us waiting to run across the road. He was in a wheelchair and he had no legs from the thigh down, but worse, he had no wrists and no hands – yet somehow he managed to use his nubs to push the wheels around.

Funny how many thoughts run through my mind – everything from “I can’t think of anything worse” to “Well, at least he has a wheelchair! Most people I see with no legs only dream of wheelchairs”.,, When one side of the traffic cleared everyone ran to the middle of the road, and so did I. It wasn’t until he managed to get half way, frantically pushing with no hands on his wheels, did I come up behind him and weave him through the rest of the traffic, thinking ‘with all these people around, I can’t believe no one helped him!’ But I was talking to myself. This guy never expected it anyways … he was pleasantly surprised and gave me a huge smile, “Thank You Madam!” Then he went on his way and my mind was whirling because I realized that he’s used to being forgotten and I helped confirmed that for the first half of our one minute interaction.

I don’t know his name or the ending to his story but moments after I walked away I met up with Solomon and I’m reminded of the names and stories I do know the endings of. It’s been a few weeks since I wrote to share about what Solomon is up against with the Thread Of Life sewing ministry – but these days Good overcomes evil and Solomon is peacefully fulfilling lots of orders with the ladies in a new shop! (only temporary until we raise the rest of the money to buy permanent land.)

Since Come, Let’s Dance started just over 3 years ago we’re just now having the privilege of sharing stories about coming full circle, about what happens when you believe in something you can’t see and commit to it… in the children’s lives and even better in the lives of their leaders.

“This movie projector is putting my family back together!” Hearing that statement from Ben I had to laugh, but knowing that in all the years I’ve worked with him in our office and managing all of our CLD Projects, I’ve never heard that type of joy and laughter in his voice. So standing in complete darkness under the grass-roofed, dirt floor church he built only a few months ago, I had to ask to hear the whole story of that ridiculous statement. While he talked with this joy that I had never saw before, the movie projector was blaring a “Samson and Delilah” film in the background…

We were in Ben’s village where he grew up as a boy. The very place he swore he would never return to, “when I got to Kampala and started secondary school, I knew that I never wanted anything to do with this place again.” After his father died when he was a boy, all the wives of his father tried to kill him because he was the only boy among all the girls – and as it goes in Uganda, the boys are entitled to inherit all the land and property.

Because his fathers family had never really been favored in that village, after he died his wives and children were chased away until, eventually the place was deserted. Now his family is dispersed in all directions except for the place which was intended for them.

“To see village kids playing on this property gives me such joy!” Now … if you knew Ben you would know that he is a ‘business man’, not really taken by kids... Though most everything he is responsible for in the CLD ministries is ultimately for the Childrens Home, you rarely see him with the kids. But in that moment the joy Ben had in his voice, while watching kids chasing eachother in the front yard, had a big story behind it.

“When I finally came back to see if I could sell the land I had inherited, I was so sad to find it completely deserted!” About a year and a half ago he traveled back to Kaliro for the first time, his intentions were not to reclaim what was rightfully his… but this part of the story I can’t really explain. His father was buried here, this was the place he loved and grew from as a boy, this was his ancestral land… and now it was overgrown, forgotten, and avoided by everyone.

The thing is – Ben doesn’t need that land. He has a new community, big plans and an exciting future in Kampala. In fact, hes just completing a 3 bedroom house on his own plot of land not far from the Childrens Home! After running for his life (literally) as a boy – his solution was to forget his family (that tired to kill him), sell the land (where the villagers hated his family line anyway) and forget. Start a new family and expand in new territories.

There was this confidence and pride now as he said “this movie projector is putting my family back together” because he knew what was right. After coming back with some friends from church, he sensed the brokenness in that entire village, he could feel the darkness. So he rallied a group from Light the World Church and did a week long ‘crusade’ in Kaliro, “my decision to come back was the hardest decision I’ve ever made.”

The place was heavy with witchcraft, and no one was happy to see that he had returned to Kaliro. Like me, you may not understand the reality of a story like this or the intensity – but standing in the middle of nowhere hearing what the (very) recent history was, I couldn’t help but think that there aren’t even movies this powerful! Even among the team he brought out there (all Ugandans), the battle was to much, “if there was any doubt or hesitation about their faith, I told them not to go out on certain nights.”

I’ve learned that “Crusading” in Uganda is the first order of go when you come into a new community of destitution, and in Bens case, before you put a family back together. There can’t be any question of where you stand and what page you’re on. It’s a spiritual battle – they went out everyday, door-to-door introducing themselves and preaching Jesus. But it was so hostile, the witch doctors did everything they could to oppose him. Finally Ben changed the strategy to simply inviting them to come and watch a ‘film’.

Never before had these people seen a movie. Even the witchdoctors couldn’t resist. For a week every night they would gather on Ben’s land and watch “Jesus walking and talking.” They played the same Jesus Film over and over. This changed everything, “seeing Jesus alive, they had to listen and believe.”

Dozen of people gave their lives to Christ but most radically the witchdoctors recognized the evil they were bound by and invited them to come and burn down their shrines and save their souls. So in the night, only the strong in faith followed the most prominent witchdoctors to their territory… and they burned down everything. Hearing Ben recall that night, I knew he couldn’t tell me what it was really like … I know that Africa is a very spiritual place but knowing that he had to tell some to stay behind, I can only imagine was it was like.

That was the beginning of restoring that village. He immediately built the most simple mud hut church in this front yard (the one I was standing in) because “it starts with a church, only through a church can you reach out to people.” Since then, he has brought about 5 teams from CLD out there – each investing in different ways. Jeremy was the first white I think they’ve ever seen! He helped Ben start “Pigs for Hope” which is a micro business that will circulate pigs through the community… only through the church of course : )

Each team that goes out there invests a little more – adding to the pig project, putting a better roof on the church, starting a chicken business, doing medical outreach days (out of the church), hosting prayer breakfasts, and of course projecting movies about Jesus : ) The list goes on, but the importance of everything is the vision behind them – Ben describes all these things as ways of making his presence known.

“We are moving forward” he says with that certain smile that I’ve never seen before we got to his village. That’s quite the thing to say though, here in Uganda there are few examples of ‘moving forward’ … in fact it’s the opposite. Bad gets worse and destitution turns to desolation in places that once thrived. Visitors might only see a cement pig pen or a brick chicken house, but Ben sees a statement that he is back! He is not going anywhere and he’s investing in tomorrow! It was funny because it was so dark that I could only see his wide eyes glowing and big white smile, but I could just tell that he was standing so tall and his stature spoke of a new beginnings to a story that he thought had ended a long time ago.

The part of his story that I had to laugh at was when he told me how near-by ‘clan members’ were chased away by the villagers who now were devoted to Ben. Shortly after Ben and the team left, some guys showed up who were not happy Ben was ‘back’ to reclaim the land and I think everyone was surprised when all of the neighbors rallied to defend Bens territory. The stand-off was a moment in history – simple neighbors opposing the aggressive clan members, Ben had brought the first ever film to that village and whether they bought the whole ‘Jesus’ thing or not, even the drunkards stood because Ben had brought ‘the walking and talking Jesus’ … no one wanted to chance him not returning with another film! I guess film exceeds cultural, tribal, and even religious borders…

This guy Ben is in my story now, you will probably never meet him but his story is one that continues to be an example of ‘moving forward’ as he ‘expands his territory.’ Although I’m a witness to his leadership and growth as our Finance Manager (he’s even tutoring me on accounting in the office) there is something SO great about being able to help yourself, your family, your ancestral territory … he is bringing Truth to a place that had only known lies and the effects of that are rippling through a new community and most importantly his family that is scattered.

We only were able to meet one Auntie and some little cousins, ‘I know you all want to meet my family but they aren’t here… yet.’ See, the more Ben returns to Kaliro and rebuilds the land and relationships, the more often he will receive random phone calls from sisters, nieces/nephews, aunties, and uncles who are slowly coming Home again. Amen.

Come, Lets Dance doesn’t always know what we’re doing, we’re the first to admit it! But there are a few things I’ve become confident of in the last 4 years… coming alongside of Ugandan Leaders whose heart is serve God and his people before any other agenda is a story with more than just ‘resolve’ at the end. Somehow we were able to be a part of building his confidence and his ability to dream bigger and see possibilities in places forgotten.

Even as I send this email Ben is out in Kaliro again, with a whole team from Light The World Church ‘crusading’ for over a week. I love how he loves it. I love how he recognizing what the next steps are, plans ahead, budgets, rallies the people and moves forward …

Love,
Julie

Addition to MCC's Christmas Party...

More thoughts from my good friend, Julie - her writings are too good to keep to myself, I want to share with all of you...

There’s this quote in C.S. Lewis’ book The Weight of Glory that says “Our Lord finds our desires are not to strong, but to weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink, sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased…”

Ok, it wasn’t the sea, but Lake Victoria might as well be one, being the largest Lake on the continent of Africa. I’ve seen this quote to many times, it’s always intrigued me and I still remember a night we ‘debated’ its meaning at a small group at CCU. I don’t know if C.S. Lewis ever meant for us to apply this literally and I’m probably taking it out of context, but the other day at the Christmas Retreat with the entire Children’s Home this quote was brought to life for me.

If you can just imagine how excited a 7-year-old gets when you go to the beach? Or on Christmas? Now just multiply that by about 80 (and change the color of the kids in your mind!) and combine Christmas AND the beach – and remember it’s their first “holiday at sea”. Add that all to the knowledge that most of these kids actually did play with “mud pies” in the slums because I’ve see it: Katanga or Kisenye Slums. But today they’ve blown the lid of their expectations of how good life can be … after today they’ll never settle with just surviving on Christmas.

The real meaning behind a day like this runs deep … about 4 years deep. Looking back there are to many friends and way to many failures to mention that lead up to this point. Before I write more I have to tell you that I (CLD) didn’t do one thing to make this day happen. Other than receiving the budget and dates and funding this special day (thank you Dave!) all we had to do was show up!

Wilfred, the Leader/Director of the Children’s Home, has become an incredible leader. There’s a lot that goes into a day like this -- first you have to learn to dream and envision something better, believe in it’s importance because you’ll have to convince a lot of people who don’t see it yet, plan WAY ahead, research the logistics, understand where the money is coming from, make a budget and get it to the right people in time … then, rally the people to come. I’m not sure if that’s exactly how it unfolds, but I’m 100% sure that’s what most ministry Leaders have to learn how to do – but it’s ten times more difficult in Africa, where (leader or not) people are just trying to find food for dinner, let alone dreaming about a holiday at sea for Christmas in 3 months.

We made sand castles, a memory I’ve already tucked away in my heart rainy days. We learned how to play at the beach. So many new experiences. We dug holes and buried each other. No sunscreen needed with that dark skin: ) There were camels on the beach!? There were no compounds, no walls … but lots of space to play soccer and all day to swim, swim, swim. When we were saying good-bye that night, two taxi’s loaded with about 30 exhausted little bodies in each, I hear Elisha’s voice amongst the dark faces say “Mama Julie!! … Our house!” He was still on a high from the house of sand him and I built especially - and I just laugh now as I remember that epic moment when I responded as dramatically as I could “Forever!!”

To my surprise, Wilfred had planned to do baptisms that day too. He held a 40-minute class for anyone who wanted to recognize their new life in Christ by being baptized. No doctrine read or robes or official ceremonies – in the simplest way about 15 older kids made a line in the shore of Lake Victoria and one by one Pastor Wilfred and Josh prayed with them before they went under water for a brief moment... but a powerful moment they’ll treat as their new Birthdays from now on. Amen.

One the best parts is knowing how many people have been involved in this story that leads up to a day like this. No one was sick (maybe partly because of the fresh veggies they get ever week from the Farm), they all had clothes, they all just got out of school and were immediately headed to whatever real families they have left for Christmas, the CLD taxi’s and all their drivers who transported the kids were doing great, their Leaders have purpose and direction (studying at University, taking classes to learn English, ect) … all of these things are directly connected to someone who believed that it was important (Medical, the Farm, Education, Housing… Christmas Parties). So many faces come to my heart right now. Thank you!

Last week I wrote about Ben and how he’s restoring his village and family in Kaliro. Like WiIfred, he is no longer settling with ‘mud pies in the slums’, his Desires are strong and he’s got Dreams he believes in. To my surprise, he read my email and wrote me back! He was actually out in Kaliro leading a crusade when he read it (in the first ever internet café recently started in the town and he had to test it out). In light of everything I’ve been trying to convey with my own words, I just have to share his email:

“You can’t believe we now have internet in kaliro. I visited this cafe in kaliro town to check out if it works so well. I was happy it did and i was glad to read my story from you. I‘m not really good at writing my personal stories but thanks for writing this. Every one here is just looking at me, I don't know why because Im so happy but instead tears are coming out of my eyes. On reading this story, i found it hard to control my tears flowing out of my eyes. I really don't know how i will ever thank God for bringing all the people he brought in my life that have helped me in this battle and putting my family together.
This week here is going so well and as usual many people gather in the front yard to watch movies and see how much God can change them and bless them through the testimonies that we share. The whole team here is so amazing. Yesterday one terrible witchdoctor turned to Christ and almost the whole village escorted him to my yard which is where the church is so that he can confess his sins. Tomorrow we are planning on baptizing 200 people.
Thanks for your prayers Julie.
Bless you”

Right now I’m in Chicago, stuck in the airport. My flight to Syracuse, NY last night was cancelled and because it’s Christmas season “everything is full”. So close to being home, I feel like I’ve been traveling for days. My mom tried to cheer me up on the phone by saying that at least I have a lot of time to think and reflect! I guess it’s privilege to sit still and think, not that I have a choice, so here I am thinking about whole villages getting baptized as if I were recalling something out of the New Testament … while music plays overhead as if I’m living an a Christmas music video, lots of lights and shiny things advertised around every corner and more white people than I’ve seen in months - dressed perfectly and rushing home for the holidays.

I’m defiantly not fitting in with my flip-flops and dirty clothes, but unlike them I get to reflect on things like -- Worship Night ’09 where 50,000+ voices rang through the city of Kampala … planting 8,000 trees and acres of vegetables on a Farm in the middle of nowhere Uganda … fixing water wells down long dirt roads … living in real Community and serving with an incredible team of friends with the most willing hearts ... cleaning infected wounds during a Medical Outreach in the Slums … assembling and watching 100 Christmas gifts being given out to children that I know will cherish them like gold, children who dance, dance, dance to express how happy they are about it…

“You have turned by mourning into joyful dancing.
You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy,
That I might sing praises to you and not be silent.
O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever!” Ps. 30:11-12

I’m about to send this email and I should tell you I managed to squeeze on a flight and made it home! Now I’m watching the snowfall out the window wearing sweaters and slippers. And just like every year I clumsily adjust to the life here of microwaves, driving on the right side of the road, automatic everything, and understanding every conversation around me. And to think, it was only last week that my routine consisted of driving the truck home from the Farm on dirt roads that were more like cow paths, the back full of veggies for the Kids (and all my friends), Jeremy riding shot-gun, no one is talking with the windows down and that endless summer-sun, and little kids are shouting for the 100th time ‘mzungu!!’ (white person) … and our favorite song is NOT playing because we’re lucky if we don’t have to push it to get it started, let alone play our favorite song : )

So as I transition back to this side of the world, I’m forced to search for the only common ground between the two, and I remember what Josh Brink said in devotions a few days ago – I have no idea what will remain tomorrow, or next year, or in 3-5 years. I can’t guarantee where I will be or if I’ll be serving with CLD, and the people I think that I can’t live without might be gone … but what I can be confident in is that God remains the same. My call to love Him and love His people is my only common ground between Uganda and America … and somehow that’s enough for me.

Merry Christmas everyone – thank you for following me over the last few months. It’s good to be back!

Julie

Mercy Childcare Kids' Christmas Party

*most photos, if not all, are taken by Jon Colon*

Christmas was celebrated at the beginning of December for all our kids at Mercy Childcare. They were all home from school & most are spending the holidays with family - immediate or otherwise. Its become a tradition based on generous support to do something extra special for the kids at this time every year.

All 50+ kids spent a day and a half at Aero Beach, on Lake Victoria. Its a beach by Entebbe airport where they have a couple planes that you can walk through, play on. Odd, but fun!





oh yes, and there were two roaming camels...this pic is only of one :) Morgan tried to make friends & got spit on!






Apostle Wilfred, the Director of Mercy Childcare, also took the opportunity to provide baptisms to those kids and even a couple of the house parents who wanted to be baptised. Here is Cliff, before & after! :)



It was a joyful day for all!

4th Sunday of Advent reflection...a bit late...

An excerpt from Sabbatical Journey, Henri J.M. Nouwen

I think that we have hardly thought through the immense implications of the mystery of the incarnation. Where is God? God is where we are weak, vulnerable, small and dependent. God is where the poor are, the hungry, the handicapped, the mentally ill, the elderly, the powerless. How can we come to know God when our focus is elsewhere, on success, influence, and power? I increasingly believe that our faithfulness will depend on our willingness to go where there is brokenness, loneliness, and human need.

If the church has a future it is a future with the poor in whatever form. Each one of us is seriously searching to live and grow in this belief, and by friendship we can support each other. I realize that the only way for us to stay well in the midst of the many "worlds" is to stay close to the small, vulnerable child that lives in our hearts and in every other human being. Often we do not know that the Christ child is within us. When we discover him we can truly rejoice.


Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (Sunday December 24, 1995, Freiburg, Germany). © Henri J.M. Nouwen. Published by The Crossroad Publishing Company and reprinted here with publisher's kind permission. Photo by Kathryn Smith.

Living Dangerously for God

Living dangerously for God. What does this mean and why do i want to talk about it.

I have been reading Joshua recently. Near the end of his life, Joshua challenged the Israelites to make a life changing decision: Choose for youselves this day whom you will serve, whether the Gods your forefathers served beyond the River, or the Gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household we will serve the Lord (Joshua 24,15). The people responded with `Far be it from us to forsake the Lord to serve other Gods (Joshua 24, 16). They were taken aback, perhaps even offended by Joshuas challenge.

Then Joshua emphatically stated `You are not able to serve the Lord, He is a Holy God, a jealous God (Joshua 24,19). Can you imagine the indignation you would have felt if you had not been in the crowd that day. I am not able. Who does he think he is?

Israel missed the point. Their faith was based on what God had done for them not who he was. Joshua meant that God is so holy that we cannot to begin to fathom the depth of his character. he is so jealous that he will not accept anything less than total commitment. A token resolution to follow God is not transformational. Joshua was not asking for lip service, but for a life of absoloute and constant surrender to God.

How does this work practically.Is God really first in your life? I feel like God has brought me to a place where I am not completely certain of where he wants me to be in the future, but still that i am completely walking in his will. I have an amazing peace about the direction my life is taking, I trust the Lord completely and I am very content to live out a dangerous faith. There is nothing to fear.

Engagement and marriage

I am very happy to say that Jennie and I announced are engagement just a couple of days ago. I spoke to Jennie`s father and asked for his permission to marry his amazing daughter. We are both very excited about what the future holds. God has opened up so much for us in the last few months, and we are excited to see what adventures he holds in store for us over the next few years. We plan to be married at the end of July, in Denver USA. This obviously means that I will not be extending my Medair contract at the end of May.

There are some things we would like people to pray into for us over the next few months

Fiancee Visa. To get married legally in the USA I have to be granted a fiancee visa. These normally take 5 months to process, and I will even have to go for an interview in the US embassy in London. So theroetcially, we should not have a problem with the timeframe. If you can pray for us anyway, that there will be no delay`s in this process.

From now until the end of May I will be living and working in the DR Congo. Jennie will be working in Kampala. I will be able to see Jennie on my visits to Uganda for holiday, but please pray for protection over us as we will sadly have to spend some time apart over the the next few months.

Please continue to pray for us as we prepare to get married and spend our lives us together, that the Lord will bless us, continue to guide us and show us exactly where he wants us to be. Please pray that God will always be at the centre of our relationship and that he continues to work so actively in our lives. Please pray we can surrender our life to him.

We are truly blessed.

Happy Christmas

Happy Christmas from the Congo! Its strange being in a warmer climate at Christmas, especially when its snowing so much at home. I dont like being away from my fiancee Jennie or my family, but there is one good thing about being in the Congo at this time of year. I escape all the commercial hype that Christmas means in the Western world. A friend recently sent me a link to the Advent Conspiracy website. www.adventconspiracy.org/

The story of Christ`s birth is a story of Promise, hope and a revolutionary love.

So what happened? What was once a time to celebrate the birth of a Savior has somehow turned into a season of stress, traffic jams and shopping lists.

And when its all over, many of us are left with presents to return, looming debt that will take months to clear, and this empty feeling of missed puropse. Is this really what we want out of Christmas?

What if Christmas became a world changing event again?

An opprtunity to focus on the message Jesus brought to this world.

I will leave you with that message, a very merry Xmas to all.

Dungu Update

Sorry I have not written in a while, but Im in Dungu now...and there is very little internet coonection here. I took up my new role as base support manager 2 weeks ago. I had a fantastic holiday with the beautiful Jennie in SW Uganda, visiting Lake Bunyone and the Virunga volcano range. Pretty spectacular. (I'm sure most of you have seen the photo's on facebook by now - I certainly don't have the bandwith to upload any photo's here)

And now im in Dungu. Whats in Dungu..well not much to be honest. Its a small town in North East Congo, approximately 250 km from the Sudan border. About 1 year ago the LRA crisis exploded here. The LRA have long since been forced out of town, but they are not that far away. There are reports of LRA attacks about 60KM away from here, with Congolese and Ugandan armz forces present everywhere.

What are Medair doing here? We run an emergency health project, providng equipment, medication and supervision, in the main hospitals and health centres. At the moment, treatment for the local population and IDP's is completely free in all Medair programmes. Thats an amazing gift we can give the impoverished population here. Martin Luther King said it was every persons human right to have access to health care.

We have just had our programme extended here for another year Praise God. The LRA are still very much a present force in north Eastern Congo, and continue to penetrate CAR and South Sudan. so there is much work to be done.

I promise to write more soon. I will be in Congo for Christmas, in Bunia next week, so I will have a much better internet connection in the base there.

Bye for now.

Advent Reflection from Henri Nouwen

Second Sunday of Advent – December 6

An excerpt from iGracias! by Henri J.M. Nouwen

"A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom. The spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him . . ." (Isa.11:1-2).

These words from last night's liturgy have stayed with me during the day. Our salvation comes from something small, tender, and vulnerable, something hardly noticeable. God, who is the Creator of the Universe, comes to us in smallness, weakness, and hiddenness.

I find this a hopeful message. Somehow, I keep expecting loud and impressive events to convince me and others of God's saving power; but over and over again I am reminded that spectacles, power plays, and big events are the ways of the world. Our temptation is to be distracted by them and made blind to the "shoot that shall sprout from the stump."

When I have no eyes for the small signs of God's presence - the smile of a baby, the carefree play of children, the words of encouragement and gestures of love offered by friends - I will always remain tempted to despair.

The small child of Bethlehem, the unknown young man of Nazareth, the rejected preacher, the naked man on the cross, he asks for my full attention. The work of our salvation takes place in the midst of a world that continues to shout, scream, and overwhelm us with its claims and promises. But the promise is hidden in the shoot that sprouts from the stump, a shoot that hardly anyone notices.

iGracias! - A Latin American Journal (December 2, 1981) © Henri J.M. Nouwen. Published by HarperCollins. Reprinted with publisher's kind permission. Photo by M. Wright.

View Henri Nouwen’s complete collection of books and media at www.HenriNouwen.org/shopcart

Girls Day - I Am Crazy Beautiful!!!

We set aside a whole day for the older girls from the Kids House to come to our place. We did manicures & pedicures, talked about how Crazy Beautiful they each are, and had a ton of fun. Here are some pics from the day!

Florence & I

Linda, me & Peggy

some funky moves...

Weird Font Size Changes...

Anyone know how to fix my blog? All the sudden it decided to make all the titles HUGE! I tried to edit my layout, but even though I have the settings for font on small, it looks huge? Weird...

New Thread of Life Sewing and Craft Shop!!!

lots of beads...

Mark, Cassie & Sarah rockin the aprons!

James...such a stylin' man...

Thanksgiving

the whole CLD clan, plus some!!!

oh yeah, and Jer!

Tif making some amazing treats!


a little bit of fall & home sent from the states...


Josh & Nate's amazing work: our own barbecue pit!


Have to have some pork - we're in Uganda you know! Thanks Jer!



The turkey...it turned out amazing!!

awww...

Lake Bunyonyi holiday with Mark

Some highlights from my trip to SouthWest Uganda with Mark. We traveled 8 1/2 hours by bus to Kabale, which is almost to the Rwanda border. We stayed on top of a hill overlooking beautiful Lake Bunyonyi - it was stunning and so peaceful there! Then, we traveled on for a few hours over the mountains to Kisoro, which borders DR Congo & Rwanda. There is a volcanic range there and more beautiful views! Downside was the 12-hour bus ride back...but it was well worth it!

Lake Mutanda in Kisoro, looking towards the largest volcano


our lovely huge canoe - patched with tin from USAid cans of course & completely dry the whole way!


our view of Lake Bunyonyi!





You can see the volcano in the background...


Happy us! :)

Bedbugs…a story from the US!

Sorry...didn't mean to have two insect stories in a row!

I came across this the other day – reminds me how the reality of loving the poor here in Uganda and in the western world is not all that different. We have a different type of bedbugs here, you can’t see them like the ones in the US. But there are a lot of diseases here that are spread just as easily…that daily we choose to live near, around, hug, because its more important to love & deal with the consequences than to not love at all… Just some food for thought…

Bedbugs: A Modern-Day Leprosy. Seriously.

by Bart Campolo 11-30-2009

Stanley is a dirty old man, and by that I don’t just mean he talks about younger women in inappropriate ways. He smells bad, too. Really bad. On the other hand, Stanley is about as gentle a fellow as you are likely to meet here in Walnut Hills, which is why the rest of us put up with his stink, even at the dinner table. He’s our friend, after all.

After dinner the other night, we held our annual show-and-tell talent show, which is kind of a homey cross between American Idol and The Jerry Springer Show. Just after one of our teenagers proudly modeled her pregnant belly (her talents, unfortunately, do not include good judgment), I was getting ready for “Cincinnati’s loudest burp” when Karen tapped me on the shoulder. “Della says Stanley has bedbugs all over his jacket,” she whispered urgently. “What do we do now?”

I quietly moved next to Della, who sadly shook her head. Sure enough, Stanley ’s back was literally crawling with bedbugs. How did I know they were bedbugs, you ask? Around here we learn to spot our bedbugs the way an endangered horror movie hero learns to spot her zombies. Della knew too. “You gotta get him out of here, or my family’s leaving,” she told me. “I love y’all, Bart, but we can’t be getting no bedbugs.” And just that quickly, everything changed between Stanley and the rest of us.

I called him outside, but there was no way to avoid embarrassing him. He didn’t argue or minimize the problem. He just shook his head and told me he didn’t know what to do. I shook my head too. Three weeks later, I still don’t know what to do.

If all this seems overly dramatic, then you must be unaware that bedbugs, which were largely wiped out in this country by DDT in the 1950s, are in the midst of a major resurgence, most especially among the poor people in inner-city neighborhoods who are least equipped to fight them. It only takes one hitching a ride on your clothes to infest your house, and after that they are incredibly difficult to get rid of, even with the help of an exterminator, and even if you can afford to throw away your bed and most of your furniture. They feed on your blood every three nights, but you can’t just leave and starve them out, because they can survive without feeding for more than a year.

Spiritually speaking, bedbugs are a kind of modern-day leprosy. Della and her family aren’t the only ones afraid to touch Stanley these days; all of us keep our distance. Until we can find a way to shower and dress him in clean clothes each week, we don’t even let him come to dinner anymore. He’s a gentle old crackhead who needs our love, but we shun him.

We’re still not safe, of course. Every day we hug people who might be carriers, or invite their kids into our homes, or go to visit theirs. A few months ago, when Marty and I had a false alarm in our house, our whole ministry here flashed before our eyes. Bullets in the backyard we can handle, I think. Bedbugs … I don’t know. How can you love anybody if you can’t sleep anymore?

Then again, how well can you sleep when you know your old friend Stanley is just a few blocks away, filthy and bug-bitten and alone? Not so well, it turns out, when you think about it.

I used to judge all those Bible people who shunned the lepers to protect themselves and their families. I thought I was different because I was willing to spend my life in a ghetto. Now I know better … and wish I had some DDT.

Bart Campolo is a veteran urban minister and activist who speaks, writes, and blogs about grace, faith, loving relationships, and social justice. Bart is the leader of The Walnut Hills Fellowship in inner-city Cincinnati. He is also founder of Mission Year, which recruits committed young adults to live and work among the poor in inner-city neighborhoods across the U.S., and executive director of EAPE, which develops and supports innovative, cost-effective mission projects around the world.

On the trail of a long-horned insect

My friend Michelle posted this on her blog, so I decided to share it as well - it is grasshopper season here, or nsenene as they call them! They are delicacies, fried up & eaten as crunchy snacks - though I don't find myself craving these creatures, I've had a few & they're not too bad!


From Monitor Online
On the trail of a long-horned insect
Posted in: News
Dec 5, 2009 - 1:36:25 AM

Nearly every Ugandan takes the arrival of nsenene for granted. But the hunt for them is an act of survival that mirrors the story of life and death, as Saturday Monitor’s Rodney Muhumuza reports


If the wall had not been too high, or if the frantic girl in a school uniform had been tall enough, this would have been a quick catch. As fast as the hungry crows hovering in mid-air, as if marking their territory, Julie Nabbosa would have moved to her next target.

Yet height was not the only thing the girl did not have on her side. In this verdant tract of land that overlooks a railway line, where destitute people grow corn and the grass is tall enough to hide the face of a six-year-old girl, Nabbosa could have done with a lot of favours.

There were other boys and girls offering competition, and an adventurous incursion into bushes could leave her bruised. A foray into railway-line territory could be as disastrous as a foolish attempt to climb a rough wall with bare hands. At the very least, these children were bound to suffer terrible itches from hours spent romancing the grass.

Clutching bottles, some nearly full with the objects of their passion, Nabbosa and her horde could not have been fully aware of the risks they were taking. If they were --- and the oldest among them looked to be in his early teens --- they probably did not care.

It was 10a.m. on a rainy morning in an industrial part of Kampala, in the Namuwongo suburb, and these children were here for business. If the bottles they carried showed intent, and if the anxiety on their faces betrayed urgency, each of these children was a veritable soldier.

After all, this was November, season of the grasshoppers, or musenene, when young and old are not embarrassed to chase after tiny insects, when market vendors have to update their stock with a hot addition; when so many Ugandans have to pay expensively to get a taste of the new season.

The insects, known to everyone as simply nsenene, are a type of bush cricket that comes in hues ranging from light green to dark brown and to an improbable purple. In street talk, nsenene (the species Ruspolia baileyi) are said to “migrate” from the central region, in Masaka, to different parts of Uganda --- in gardens, on street poles, on high walls, and in the kinds of bushes Nabbosa was not afraid to negotiate.
“I will go home and fry them,” the girl said, her face contorted with coyness after a stranger asked to know why she was not at school.
“I am going home now.”

The man, looking down at her from his second-storey office, was within reach of several of the insects Nabbosa would have wanted stuffed in her bottle.
The insects were scattered across the wall Nabbosa was not tall or acrobatic enough to scale, and as she and her competitors walked away from the inquisitor, perhaps cursing their fortune, it was now up to the roaming birds to reign supreme. Those who catch nsenene range from innocent children like Nabbosa (who seize them one at a time from beneath dense vegetation) to ruthless businessmen (who invest heavily in harvesting material) and to marabou storks (which ambush the insects in space).
It is a process that renders itself to survival, to recklessness, and, increasingly, to shrewd trade.

Lights on
Not far from the place where Nabbosa was found catching nsenene, across a street that policemen regularly patrol for signs of illegality, one man had recently erected what a looked like an unfinished fence.

The contraption was in fact a trap to catch nsenene --- a barricade made of iron sheets raised high to reach a gleaming bulb. Nsenene are drawn to light, finding refuge along or near bright spots, and businessmen exploit this weakness to catch them in amazingly large numbers. Attracted to the light, which blinds them, the dazed insects inevitably slide down the iron sheets and into open barrels.
If their journey ends in those containers, their story does not. Nearly everywhere in Kampala’s suburbs, from Kitintale to Kamwokya, a keen eye will notice that sometime in November, as torrential rains pound the city, many roadside stalls are crowded with women circling saucepans brimming with nsenene. Their job is to pluck the wings and legs off these crickets, a task not as exciting as catching them, and then dropping them in empty saucepans, ready to be boiled and roasted until they turn a seductive golden brown.
Until the tasters find them crunchy (and salty) enough, the heat may not be turned off. And Johnson Tumuhereze’s job as a vendor may not start.

Never give up
“I walk wherever I can because my job is to sell,” he said one afternoon as he walked along a dusty street, his right hand carrying a can of ready-to-eat nsenene above his shoulder.

“This is my business.” At Shs200, which could be costly for many people, a spoonful is not enough to satiate a craving, and Mr Tumuhereze does not except to make more than Shs5,000 each day. In any case, he is one of so many young men hawking nsenene.

INCOME EARNER: Whenever the months of April and November set in, the trade in nsenene booms and business people cash in big.

In many ways, the nsenene story is as modern as it is archaic, adopting raw capitalism but retaining the crucial role of women in bringing the delicacy into living rooms.

Kiganda oral tradition has it that, in days past, women were sent to shrubs to harvest nsenene but were not allowed to eat them.
As the story goes, the privilege belonged to their selfish husbands.
“I think that the men were just being greedy,” says Charles Peter Mayiga, Buganda Kingdom’s information minister, “considering how delicious nsenene are.”

But the more serious reason, Mr Mayiga said, had to do with “the purity that was attached to the woman” in Buganda. If the women were strong enough to resist eating delicious insects on the sly, it was proof of their fidelity, he said, noting that attitudes have evolved over the years.
“My wife is a modern woman,” Mr Mayiga said, making the point that they both eat nsenene at home.

Put differently, nsenene have become an equaliser. And one place makes it clear: Nearly every morning when it is nsenene season, trucks and motorcycles descend upon Nakasero Market, in Kampala, to deliver huge consignments of freshly-trapped insects ferried from hundreds of miles away.

The jostling for space and sneering among rival salesmen --- young and old, women and men --- sometimes gives way to cold-blooded fights.

They do it for the love of nsenene, so that they milk the new season for all its worth, and so that Madinah Naggayi may take the season for granted.
“I’ve eaten a lot [of nsenene] this season,” the shopkeeper said recently. “I can’t count them, of course. And we don’t care about the trouble they go through to catch them. For us, we just wait.”

What is Nsenene?
Nsenene is the Luganda name for a long-horned grasshopper that is a central Ugandan delicacy as well as an important source of income.

The insect is also eaten in neighbouring areas of Kenya and Tanzania. Traditionally in Uganda, nsenene were collected by children and women. They were given to the women’s husbands in return for a new gomasi (a traditional dress for women). Although the women were made to do the treacherous work of collecting nsenene, they were never allowed to eat them.

It was believed that women who consume nsenene would bear children with deformed heads like those of a conocephaline bush cricket.

Nowadays, nsenene are consumed by most women in the areas where this insect is traditionally eaten.

November is the main nsenene season, the other being April, when a swarm of the delicious locusts converges on the areas around Lake Victoria from the greater North.

The commercial nsenene production includes wholesale trade in sacks, transported over long distances to urban areas in order to get the best price. In most market places, vendors cash in big on the nsenene.
Source: wikipedia

© Copyright 2009 by Monitor Online

Team Life

`Our life is full of brokenness - broken relationships, broken promises, broken expectations. How can we live with that brokenness without becoming bitter and resentful except by returning again and again to God's faithful presence in our lives.` A quote from Henri Nouwen.

When I first started to think about joining Medair, one of the great attractions was the sense of community and belonging that a role with the organisation offered. Living alongside other Christians, from all over the world, all working together to serve the most vulnerable. To me, it sounded like an amazing opportunity to part of a unique community, living with like minded people.

Its therefore pretty ironic that this community has started to become one of the greatest challenges about being here in the DR Congo. Maybe i was naive, I would prefer to think that i was hopeful and optimistic. I have been surprised by some of the dysfunctionality that exists in our team here, and im talking specifically about the international team.

Of course, with our colleagues from the Congo, there are huge cultural differences which sometimes make it difficult to work together. I did not expect so many problems between a group of people who come mostly from Europe and North America.

Life in the field is intense, there is no doubt about that. People grow tired and weary, especially those who have been here for a longer period. Stress levels can be high emergencies can develop pretty quickly. We definately find ourselves under spiritual attack , we are working on the front line after all, soldiers for God. In Bunia, where I have been based for the last 3 weeks, there is a very heavy spiritual feeling. No doubt the results of many years of war and conflict and the terrible things that have been done here. There are all sorts of reasons that contribute to this level of dysfunctionality we are experiencing at the moment. Not that i think any of these are good excuses.

Christ says in Hebrews that we are a Royal Priesthood, that we stand out. Im not sure that we have been doing that as a team here recently. By my own admission I have pretty high expectations of myself and the people around me. Perhaps there is a lesson for me in all of this, to display the same grace God has extened to me, to show that grace and love to the people around me, I can be pretty impatient at the best of times .

Maybe its a lesson that we are all human, we all have weakness and people do from time to time disappoint us. Through the ups and downs Im being stretched and challenged thats for sure, and that can only be a good thing....

Some more news...

On Friday we moved Solomon into the new Thread of Life sew and craft shop!!!!!!!! It was such sweet relief when we drove away from that wretched building with the last of our things, breathing huge thanks to God for the landlord not showing up and the fact that we NEVER have to go to that place again! It felt a bit miraculous & indeed it is.

Morgan wrote these updates, so I thought I would mooch from him and share (sorry no pics!):

First of all is the story of Jordan and Jackson. Jordan and Jackson are brothers and they are two babies that have lived at the kids' house for a little over a year now. They were completely abandoned and we didn't have any idea who their parents were. But over the summer, there was a woman who became interested in adopting them. So Wilfred, the director of the kids' home, started asking around again seeing if he could figure anything out. By some coincidence, he happened to come across their uncle. The uncle said that he had no idea what happened to the mother but thought that the father was working in some distant village somewhere. But then, about a week later, the father got in touch with Wilfred through the uncle. As it turns out, he had gone to Sudan to try to find some work. When he went North, he lost his phone with all his contacts in it and couldn't call his wife. There ended up not being any work in Sudan and he couldn't scrape enough money to get back home. So do to some rather unfortunate circumstances, he ended up being stuck in SUdan for almost two years. When he finally came back, he immediately started asking friends and relatives where his family was. That's how the uncle got him in contact with Wilfred and he found Jordan and Jackson, but he was still trying to find what happened to his wife.
A week or so after the father got in touch with Wilfred, he found his wife. It turns out she had gotten sick and was in the hospital for a little bit and had left Jordan and Jackson with a family friend that was living near them. The friend though, for some reason or another, took Jordan and Jackson and gave them to the police saying that they were abandoned and thats how they came to Wilfred. The mother new that they were with Wilfred and were staying in the kids' home all along, but she was scared that if she went and tried to get them back then she would get into trouble for abandoning them in the first place and so she just left them there.
But now Jordan and Jackson are both living with their parents again. Mercy Ministries and CLD are still keeping tabs on them and helping the father and mother support them, but it's really great that they are bak home with their parents now.
It's so cool to see stuff like this, especially when we can look back and see how this might not have happened if our friend hadn't been interested in adopting them this summer. If they hadn't started looking into the family again, they might not have found the uncle, and, in turn, the father. It's so cool to see how God knows the things that need to be done and can use us to make those things happen.

Love this story - miss the boys, but so thankful they are with their family!!!

Prison Break

In my role as acting country director for the Medair programme, I am based in Bunia, the location of our main support base in the Congo. Bunia has been badly affected by ethnic conflict in recent years. Even today, there is a huge MONUC (United Nations) presence in town. The war that raged has all but ended, but there is still banditry and general lawlessness in town. I can hear gunshots most nights, especially fom the local Prison.

The conditions of the prisons in the Congo is quite frankly dreadful and to be quite honest, a complete affront to human dignity. Conditions are so bad that prisoners will reguarly risk their lives trying to escape, the exchange of gunfire that follows can be heard almost every night at the Medair compund.

The statement below comes from a recent UN report on social justice in the DR Congo. For Goma, read Bunia. The condition of the prison here is rumored to be equally as apalling.

`My interlocutors, including the Minister of Justice, who is responsible for the penitentiary system, unanimously agreed that prison conditions are atrocious. I visited the Central Prison of Goma and spoke with detainees there. In a prison built to hold 150, over 800 prisoners live in squalor. They receive one inadequate meal per day from the prison authorities, and rely essentially on food brought by their families. Because internal control of the prison is entirely left to the inmates, the stronger prisoners take the lion’s share of the provided food. The weaker prisoners and those without family nearby gradually become emaciated, and especially vulnerable to disease. Not surprisingly, many die in prison.

The number of prisons and prisoners in the Congo is unknown. Totally inadequate records of prisoners are kept and many are left rotting in prison even after their sentence has been served. The great majority of prisoners have never been tried before a judge. In essence, the prison system seems to be a depository for the enemies of the state and for those too poor to buy their way out of the justice system. The abominable conditions, together with corruption and minimal state control, mean that escapes are common, thus adding further to impunity`

How can anybody be expected to live in such a way. Some of these prisoners have not even been proved guilty, they are awaiting trial. The prsion sytem is just one of numerous problems this country has to overcome as they try to rebuild after years of conflict. But nobody should have their dignity stripped away like this?