A breeze in Uganda

I’m a bit behind…
On the 13 of September I went to Mbale Church of Christ for an AIDS orphans day. One of the ministries our team does is sponsorship of AIDS orphans. When I got there Kimberly was teaching a Bible lesson using tea bags… I think it was something about how God has cleansed us from our sins, the dark stuff inside of us. After her lesson, the kids went out to the field to play soccer. There were 2 soccer balls, so the boys played with one and the girls with the other. I walked over to the field with them and sat on a wall watching them from a distance. I felt so at peace and so happy to be in Africa. Even though I live in Africa, I spend more time around ex-patriots from all over than I do with Africans. As I sat there, a light breeze passed by. A few years ago I went out to a quiet place overlooking a lake in Tuscaloosa. I had gone there to pray and spend time with God. As I was talking with Him, a gently breeze would pass occasionally. Since then, I am always reminded of God’s presence through something as small and often unnoticed as a breeze. So, feeling this breeze brush over me as I sat and watched African children playing so joyfully brought a deep peace to me. I finally felt like I was in Africa. Then a lady from the church walked by and said “Why don’t you go play with them?” So I did. I kicked off my flip flops and ran over to the girls. Who would’ve thought that playing soccer as a kid would actually come in handy? I think it’s way cool how God uses even the most random experiences of our lives to glorify Him. I had a lot of fun kicking the ball around with those girls. Btw, trying to play soccer in a skirt can be tricky, especially if it’s not a flowy type skirt. After soccer, we gave out notebooks and pencils for school and Bibles to older kids. Then we gave out coats. After that, we ate and then everyone went home. It was a good afternoon.
Here’s another “welcome to Africa” story:
Nicole and I rode bodas to the church (it’s quite a long walk). This was only my 2nd time to ride one. We started on a big hill… which should’ve been a sign in the first place. I couldn’t even get on because the bikes are so tall and my legs are so short. Once I finally hopped on, my bodaman had to get another bodaman to give him a push to help him start. Once he gets going on his own, my flip flop falls off. So the guy that was pushing us ran and got it and stuck it back on my foot for me. In the meantime, we ended up stopping, which also meant that he had to push us off again. We get to the top of the last hill and turn onto the main road in town and my flip flop fell off again. I had to tell him a few times what happened, then he finally saw my barefoot and stopped, again. He ran to get my shoe for me. This time we had stopped at a sidewalk so I could hop back on much easier since I had some added height standing on the sidewalk. When he came back I took my other flip flop off and put them into my bag. This road was flat, so he didn’t need help getting going… he went quite fast actually. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to figure out just where to hold on. I don’t understand how these Ugandan women can just sit there no problem and often hold a sleeping child. As we approach the big traffic circle in town, I’m praying that I won’t die… it’s a really busy part of town and bodas often almost run into cars (general traffic rule here: the bigger object always has the right of way) or pichis (motorcycles) zoom by and there are people everywhere. Thankfully, we made it fine. He made it to the road I told him to go to but he didn’t know where to turn, and I had to remember where that was. I saw the road and pointed ahead saying, “You see that road there? That is where I need to go.” He turned in to the gas station just before the road instead (all of this being on the other side of the road from the direction we were coming in). I couldn’t remember how far it was down the road to the church, so I didn’t want to tell him to just stop there. We then headed against traffic on the wrong side of the busy road. After waiting a while and trying to pedal up to the road he finally asked if we could just walk there. So, we walked up to the corner where I again hopped back onto the bike as many Ugandans were saying, “Mzungu, where are your shoes?” It’s weird for a white person to be barefoot… even though many of them don’t wear shoes all the time. We again set out for the church. I saw Nicole ahead and told him to stop where my friend was… he said he didn’t see her… the only white girl standing anywhere around. But, he eventually saw her and peddled over. I finally made it to (well close enough to) our destination. I paid him well saying it was for all the trouble. Since I caused pretty much all of it, and I did arrive where I wanted to unharmed, I thought he deserved it. One lesson learned: next time I’m not wearing flip flops on a boda or I’ll at least take them off first.