It is midnight on Monday, and in the morning I will surrender the computer to Chris in the St. Kizito office. I want to offer one last message before I head home, but it will be brief since I have to be up very early.
Today I left Gulu and traveled with Chris, George Mike,and Nelly from our staff, along with my friend Teddy, to a small town called Nebbi. It is in the northwestern part of Uganda, near the Nile River and the border with the Democratic Republic of Congo. In the region surrounding Nebbi, there are about 20 St. Kizito students, along wtih a staff member named Cissy.
The journey here was a bit long - about 3 hours. But it was a relatively smooth and comfortable trip, on roads that were thankfully not so bad. Viewing more of the Ugandan countryside was a real treat, as usual. And I will never cease to find amusement in the many vendors who crowd the windows of vehicles that stop in Pakwatch and other trading centers. We were offered (somewhat forcefully, I might add) everything from salt cured fish to groundnuts to carved toys and small stools. I have often been told that it is best to ignore these people selling what they can to make a meager living. But it's really hard to ignore someone who is reaching through the window insisting that you buy their offerings. I was rather pround of myself for getting away with only a small packet of groundnuts.
We arrived in Nebbi in the afternoon and went to Nebbitown Senior Secondary School where Cissy had gathered and fed most of our students in this region. I feel compelled to say that Cissy is quite a wonderful woman. It is so very obvious that she really cares about the students and spends time with them. For the second year in a row, the gathering was well planned and the students were prepared to offer songs, poems, and other creative things. One of the guardians, Jane, offered beautiful opening and closing prayers for the event, and in between them we talked, shared, and heard words of encouragement from our own staff and Caesar, the Deputy Headmaster of the school.
Caesar was a very interesting man, and offered some wonderful ideas about working with the students and the parents to help improve their educations and performance, as well as to help them deal with some of their struggles. In fact, it has really impressed me how willing schools and government education officials are to work in partnership in the northern part of Uganda to help rebuild education and stability for the youth in school. But she is now in school, and had a wonderful bright smile today that she was not shy about using. I pray that she is able to continue to move past her pain and difficulties to find a strong future. I think I am still in shock over hger age. My own daughter is 13 years old, and the thought of her giving birth is as absurd as I can imagine. How sad that there are young girls experiencing such horror so soon in their lives.
For as long as I continue visiting Uganda, I will never be able to understand how life can be so different, so precarious, here in Africa. I have withnessed and heard of so many hardships and conditions that just should not be. But even more amazing to me is the fact that people here manage to rebound from these struggles and keep their faith alive and strong. And they also manage to be welcoming, community minded, and basically happy. I hope that I can absorb and learn some of their resilience.
.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Surrender
On Friday afternoon , I found myself sitting in the chicken house for about an hour, watching the rain come down in buckets. Indeed, that may seem like a strange place to be during the rain, but I was having a tour of the agricultural work here at St. Monica Vocational Training Centre, led by one of the students, when suddenly the skies opened up – and I do mean suddenly. We ran for the nearest shelter to wait it out, hence the chicken house.
As lightning flashed and thunder roared, there was little else to do but think, (and pray that lightning would not strike us). Since my trip is coming to a close, I took some time to think about what I have been seeing and doing. I admit, I had to laugh a bit at all the amusing moments I have had, including being stuck in the rain. And I had to wonder a bit about how I am able to be somewhere so different and be comfortable and at peace. Because in the last few weeks, I have been quite fine, and felt very much like I am at home. And I think it comes down to one word – surrender.
When one gives in to the way things are and simply “goes with the flow,” things are much easier, and I believe one also sees and experiences more. Trusting in God and believing in our own strength can make nearly anything bearable – and even enjoyable.
So….I can now be heard to say, occasionally, that a cold shower feels good. It’s not better than a hot one, for sure. I still miss the warm water. But I don’t dread the cool and refreshing water in the morning, either.
And I have come to enjoy the African cuisine I partake in here in Uganda. Sure, I would give almost anything for a pizza right now, but that doesn’t mean that the food here is hard to eat. It is actually quite good. In fact, today I had very tasty roasted chicken, homemade fries, and fresh greens for lunch and it was absolutely delicious. Most days, the fare includes beans, greens, rice or posho (grits), cabbage, and fruit – all very fresh. Fish, chicken, or meat may be included in small quantities. It can be monotonous to my American palate, but I have adjusted and am certainly not hungry. Perhaps I am even healthier with the fresh, mostly vegetable diet.
I think most of us have certain sensory things that drive us crazy. For me, it is dirty feet. At the beach, I hate it when sand gets stuck on my feet! But here in Uganda, it is either very, very dusty or very muddy. The roads are not paved, and the rains are heavy. It is essentially impossible to keep feet clean. I have tried wearing socks other years, but the dirt even penetrates them. So I have learned to be content with the feeling, as well as the dust in my hair, on my clothes, etc.
And then there’s electricity ….well, actually, there isn’t electricity. While most homes here do not have power at all, the schools and businesses in town are wired. But the power grid here functions sporadically at best. There have been only one of two days here when power is on all day. Usually, we have only a few hours. Oddly, it doesn’t make a difference to me. I have flashlights if I need them, but often I don’t even know if it is on or off. It was especially amusing this weekend, when Southern Sudan was celebrating its first day as a new country. It is very nearby, and a place where the Sacred Heart sisters have their origin. So we planned to stay up all night watching the festivities on television, beginning with the hoisting of the new flag at midnight Friday. Lo and behold, the power went out at 11 pm. We were sorry to think of missing this historical moment, but nothing could be done so off to bed we went. The next morning the power came back on and we found that the celebration was behind schedule – it hadn’t even started! But as we were watching the preparations for beginning the ceremonies, the power went off again! This time, however, the sisters deemed the event important enough to use precious fuel in the generator, and we tuned in for the birth of a new nation, cheering and rejoicing as much as those we saw on TV.
The timing of events in Southern Sudan represents another point of surrender here. Time is different in Africa. It is common knowledge, and unfortunately accepted way too easily. The flag raising in South Sudan took place about 12 hours later than scheduled. The gathering of St. Kizito students last week was to start at 9, but we began Mass at about 11 with only about one third of the guests present. If we are to meet to begin our daily work at 10, it will likely start sometime after noon. In past years, this has been a major frustration for me here. But I have found that again, surrender is the key. It is this way, and it will not change easily. No amount of stress on my part will make it different, so now I am able to just relax, wait, and let things come as they may – at least most of the time.
Sometimes it is hard for us to be at the mercy of others and follow their ways rather than our own. But I believe that there is great wisdom in the phrase, “When in Rome, do as the Romans.” This is how it should be. In this world there are many countries, and many cultures. There are no right or wrong ones, only differences that make the world an interesting place. For sure there are places where suffering is much more a part of daily life, and it is upon all of us to help bring that to an end. But it should not and cannot be done by making everyone like us, making the world all the same. In order to help those in need, I think it is of utmost importance to surrender to their ways, even experience them if possible. Only then can we truly understand their needs and the best way to help.
It is not our responsibility to give the vulnerable whatever they need, but rather to help them figure out how to get it for themselves. And the best way to do this is to become familiar and comfortable with their situation and their culture.
So I have tried to be Ugandan to the best of my ability for the last few weeks. And I am saddened to think that I have only a few more days here. Tomorrow, I will move to another town, Nebbi, to meet with a number of St. Kizito students there. If last year is any indication, they will be waiting to sing and share poems and thoughts, and it will be a wonderful day. I will be also be meeting my friend, Cissy, who is a member of the St. Kizito staff there – and perhaps even her granddaughter, who is not coincidentally named Laura! And I will continue to surrender to my situation and revel in it until I board the plane bound for home.
But you can be sure I will be stopping for pizza once I arrive in Cleveland!
As lightning flashed and thunder roared, there was little else to do but think, (and pray that lightning would not strike us). Since my trip is coming to a close, I took some time to think about what I have been seeing and doing. I admit, I had to laugh a bit at all the amusing moments I have had, including being stuck in the rain. And I had to wonder a bit about how I am able to be somewhere so different and be comfortable and at peace. Because in the last few weeks, I have been quite fine, and felt very much like I am at home. And I think it comes down to one word – surrender.
When one gives in to the way things are and simply “goes with the flow,” things are much easier, and I believe one also sees and experiences more. Trusting in God and believing in our own strength can make nearly anything bearable – and even enjoyable.
So….I can now be heard to say, occasionally, that a cold shower feels good. It’s not better than a hot one, for sure. I still miss the warm water. But I don’t dread the cool and refreshing water in the morning, either.
And I have come to enjoy the African cuisine I partake in here in Uganda. Sure, I would give almost anything for a pizza right now, but that doesn’t mean that the food here is hard to eat. It is actually quite good. In fact, today I had very tasty roasted chicken, homemade fries, and fresh greens for lunch and it was absolutely delicious. Most days, the fare includes beans, greens, rice or posho (grits), cabbage, and fruit – all very fresh. Fish, chicken, or meat may be included in small quantities. It can be monotonous to my American palate, but I have adjusted and am certainly not hungry. Perhaps I am even healthier with the fresh, mostly vegetable diet.
I think most of us have certain sensory things that drive us crazy. For me, it is dirty feet. At the beach, I hate it when sand gets stuck on my feet! But here in Uganda, it is either very, very dusty or very muddy. The roads are not paved, and the rains are heavy. It is essentially impossible to keep feet clean. I have tried wearing socks other years, but the dirt even penetrates them. So I have learned to be content with the feeling, as well as the dust in my hair, on my clothes, etc.
And then there’s electricity ….well, actually, there isn’t electricity. While most homes here do not have power at all, the schools and businesses in town are wired. But the power grid here functions sporadically at best. There have been only one of two days here when power is on all day. Usually, we have only a few hours. Oddly, it doesn’t make a difference to me. I have flashlights if I need them, but often I don’t even know if it is on or off. It was especially amusing this weekend, when Southern Sudan was celebrating its first day as a new country. It is very nearby, and a place where the Sacred Heart sisters have their origin. So we planned to stay up all night watching the festivities on television, beginning with the hoisting of the new flag at midnight Friday. Lo and behold, the power went out at 11 pm. We were sorry to think of missing this historical moment, but nothing could be done so off to bed we went. The next morning the power came back on and we found that the celebration was behind schedule – it hadn’t even started! But as we were watching the preparations for beginning the ceremonies, the power went off again! This time, however, the sisters deemed the event important enough to use precious fuel in the generator, and we tuned in for the birth of a new nation, cheering and rejoicing as much as those we saw on TV.
The timing of events in Southern Sudan represents another point of surrender here. Time is different in Africa. It is common knowledge, and unfortunately accepted way too easily. The flag raising in South Sudan took place about 12 hours later than scheduled. The gathering of St. Kizito students last week was to start at 9, but we began Mass at about 11 with only about one third of the guests present. If we are to meet to begin our daily work at 10, it will likely start sometime after noon. In past years, this has been a major frustration for me here. But I have found that again, surrender is the key. It is this way, and it will not change easily. No amount of stress on my part will make it different, so now I am able to just relax, wait, and let things come as they may – at least most of the time.
Sometimes it is hard for us to be at the mercy of others and follow their ways rather than our own. But I believe that there is great wisdom in the phrase, “When in Rome, do as the Romans.” This is how it should be. In this world there are many countries, and many cultures. There are no right or wrong ones, only differences that make the world an interesting place. For sure there are places where suffering is much more a part of daily life, and it is upon all of us to help bring that to an end. But it should not and cannot be done by making everyone like us, making the world all the same. In order to help those in need, I think it is of utmost importance to surrender to their ways, even experience them if possible. Only then can we truly understand their needs and the best way to help.
It is not our responsibility to give the vulnerable whatever they need, but rather to help them figure out how to get it for themselves. And the best way to do this is to become familiar and comfortable with their situation and their culture.
So I have tried to be Ugandan to the best of my ability for the last few weeks. And I am saddened to think that I have only a few more days here. Tomorrow, I will move to another town, Nebbi, to meet with a number of St. Kizito students there. If last year is any indication, they will be waiting to sing and share poems and thoughts, and it will be a wonderful day. I will be also be meeting my friend, Cissy, who is a member of the St. Kizito staff there – and perhaps even her granddaughter, who is not coincidentally named Laura! And I will continue to surrender to my situation and revel in it until I board the plane bound for home.
But you can be sure I will be stopping for pizza once I arrive in Cleveland!
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Let Freedom Ring!
I know I’m a bit late, but Happy 4th of July!
As you might guess, there were no fireworks here, although the heat lightning was pretty impressive. No baseball, hot dogs, or apple pie either. But still it was a fine day.
In the true spirit of sharing each other’s feast days and celebrations, the Sacred Heart sisters (our hosts) helped us to make the day feel “like home.” We were treated to American pancakes for breakfast, which started the day off very well. Then, together we organized quite a feast for dinner. The fun was actually as much in the planning and preparation as it was in the meal itself!
So for all those who like guacamole, imagine this – homemade guac made from avocados just picked from the tree, with homegrown tomatoes and onions and lemon juice, also just picked. Add homemade hot chips and it was unbelievably good. And it was made even better because we all helped make it. We enjoyed our treat along with many local foods, and the sisters even barbequed for us in the true spirit of the 4th – goat roasted on a charcoal grill!
Father Don and I, along with fellow American Elizabeth, tried to impress the group by singing God Bless America and other patriotic tunes – a valiant effort for sure, but…….
All in all, it was a pretty good 4th of July celebration. Especially since I really don’t care for hot dogs all that much.
As we celebrated the independence of the US, my thoughts were drawn to reflecting on freedom and what it really means. Oddly, it is being away from the US, here in Uganda, that has helped me to really understand the word.
As human beings, we can never be fully free in this life. There will always be needs and obligations that keep us busy or weigh us down. But human freedom is something to which we are all entitled.
I am accustomed to living with the ability to make choices about my life – from what I will eat to the path my life will follow. To quote a major airline, “I am now free to move about the country and the world.” I am free to move through my days and my life with many options and opportunities. Certainly problems arise, life changes, and choices must be made, actions taken or not taken. But I am essentially free to make my own decisions as I live my life.
Yesterday I met with a St. Kizito student named Oscar. He is a formerly abducted child soldier who returned from captivity only to find his family had been killed by the rebels. In explaining his struggles, he told me that his brother, killed in the massacre, had a wife and children. Since he is the only remaining male in the family, he is expected to be responsible for this family. Like many other young people, the war and its many effects have given a burden to Oscar that he is not free to decline. Oscar can barely exist and move forward due to the trauma he has endured, but he is not free to work through his problems without the weight of other responsibilities always rearing their heads. This situation is typical here in war affected Acholiland, where many die from hunger, violence, and illness. Young people are burdened beyond their capabilities even before they finish growing up.
The people here are also not free in terms of health., Mosquitos are everywhere, and most carry malaria. By the time most children are walking they have been infected with the gift that keeps on giving. There is no way yet to avoid this parasite – the freedom to live a healthy life is gone before life really gets started.
Add to this the rapidly rising food prices and shortage of goods. Sugar, a main staple in the Ugandan diet, cost about 1600 schillings per kilogram last year. On Monday, it cost 3000 schillings. But wait, because it gets worse. On Tuesday, the price had reached 5000 schillings! Sugar may not seem so very important, but here many school children are given only tea with sugar for breakfast. Without the sugar there are no calories, and hunger prevails until their late lunch at 1:30 or 2:00.
There is little they can do to help their situation. These people are not really free. Yes, they can make decisions about what to do each day, but the choices are more and more limited every day. They even lack the freedom to speak out about their needs. Their lives are mostly out of their control.
The most frustrating thing for me to accept, however, is that almost no one in the world will accept these people. It is nearly impossible for someone from east central Africa to obtain a visa to travel to the US, and also to many other developed countries. Even for those who have the opportunity, they are not free to see the world.
So as we enjoy yet another year of independence in the USA, let us realize just what that freedom means, and how blessed we are to have it.
As you might guess, there were no fireworks here, although the heat lightning was pretty impressive. No baseball, hot dogs, or apple pie either. But still it was a fine day.
In the true spirit of sharing each other’s feast days and celebrations, the Sacred Heart sisters (our hosts) helped us to make the day feel “like home.” We were treated to American pancakes for breakfast, which started the day off very well. Then, together we organized quite a feast for dinner. The fun was actually as much in the planning and preparation as it was in the meal itself!
So for all those who like guacamole, imagine this – homemade guac made from avocados just picked from the tree, with homegrown tomatoes and onions and lemon juice, also just picked. Add homemade hot chips and it was unbelievably good. And it was made even better because we all helped make it. We enjoyed our treat along with many local foods, and the sisters even barbequed for us in the true spirit of the 4th – goat roasted on a charcoal grill!
Father Don and I, along with fellow American Elizabeth, tried to impress the group by singing God Bless America and other patriotic tunes – a valiant effort for sure, but…….
All in all, it was a pretty good 4th of July celebration. Especially since I really don’t care for hot dogs all that much.
As we celebrated the independence of the US, my thoughts were drawn to reflecting on freedom and what it really means. Oddly, it is being away from the US, here in Uganda, that has helped me to really understand the word.
As human beings, we can never be fully free in this life. There will always be needs and obligations that keep us busy or weigh us down. But human freedom is something to which we are all entitled.
I am accustomed to living with the ability to make choices about my life – from what I will eat to the path my life will follow. To quote a major airline, “I am now free to move about the country and the world.” I am free to move through my days and my life with many options and opportunities. Certainly problems arise, life changes, and choices must be made, actions taken or not taken. But I am essentially free to make my own decisions as I live my life.
Yesterday I met with a St. Kizito student named Oscar. He is a formerly abducted child soldier who returned from captivity only to find his family had been killed by the rebels. In explaining his struggles, he told me that his brother, killed in the massacre, had a wife and children. Since he is the only remaining male in the family, he is expected to be responsible for this family. Like many other young people, the war and its many effects have given a burden to Oscar that he is not free to decline. Oscar can barely exist and move forward due to the trauma he has endured, but he is not free to work through his problems without the weight of other responsibilities always rearing their heads. This situation is typical here in war affected Acholiland, where many die from hunger, violence, and illness. Young people are burdened beyond their capabilities even before they finish growing up.
The people here are also not free in terms of health., Mosquitos are everywhere, and most carry malaria. By the time most children are walking they have been infected with the gift that keeps on giving. There is no way yet to avoid this parasite – the freedom to live a healthy life is gone before life really gets started.
Add to this the rapidly rising food prices and shortage of goods. Sugar, a main staple in the Ugandan diet, cost about 1600 schillings per kilogram last year. On Monday, it cost 3000 schillings. But wait, because it gets worse. On Tuesday, the price had reached 5000 schillings! Sugar may not seem so very important, but here many school children are given only tea with sugar for breakfast. Without the sugar there are no calories, and hunger prevails until their late lunch at 1:30 or 2:00.
There is little they can do to help their situation. These people are not really free. Yes, they can make decisions about what to do each day, but the choices are more and more limited every day. They even lack the freedom to speak out about their needs. Their lives are mostly out of their control.
The most frustrating thing for me to accept, however, is that almost no one in the world will accept these people. It is nearly impossible for someone from east central Africa to obtain a visa to travel to the US, and also to many other developed countries. Even for those who have the opportunity, they are not free to see the world.
So as we enjoy yet another year of independence in the USA, let us realize just what that freedom means, and how blessed we are to have it.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Celebrate Good Times
On Saturday, July 2nd, we held our annual gathering at St. Kizito Counseling Centre in Gulu. It is our tradition to invite St. Kizito students and their parents/guardians to join together for a day of prayer, feasting, and fun. It is a great opportunity to be together, to get to know new faces and reunite with familiar ones.
This year’s celebration was as joy-filled as usual. The ever present rain held off so that we could do everything we hoped, which was a blessing in itself this year.
We began with Mass, complete with a makeshift choir that sounded as good as any well rehearsed group I’ve heard. Even Mzee, our gatesman, joined by acting as conductor for the opening song. (Mzee is a name of respect given to elders – his name is Kenneth but he is affectionately known as Mzee.) Fr. Don told a famous Russian folktale in his homily, with a lesson about the fact that we all have a part in the lives and salvation of each other. It was a fitting message for the day.
The girls of St. Monica’s Girl’s Vocational Centre graciously provided their catering skills to present a feast with both pork and chicken, along with Irish potatoes, cabbage salad, and rice. And of course there was cake to follow! With the food shortage and high costs, schools are reducing their already meager meals for the students. Morning porridge has been reduced to only tea for some, and grain shortages have led to the staple of posho and beans becoming only beans in other schools. (Posho is something similar to grits or polenta, and is a staple here.) It has always been typical for students to receive meat, chicken, or fish only once a week, or even sometimes less frequently. Now even that is threatened. So a meal with both pork and chicken, complete with fixings, is truly a feast in the truest sense of the word. There was praise heard throughout the day for the chance to eat so well.
One of the highlights of the day was the presentation of poems and songs made by some of our students. They are invited to share their thoughts and talents with us, and so many of them did take the chance to deliver their message. We heard words of encouragement and of gratitude, songs of praise to God, and even a riddle for the crowd to try to solve. It always amazes me that these young people are willing to stand in front of their peers and sing or talk with little self-consciousness. I try to imagine the average teen in the USA standing before his class to sing a gospel song, but the image is just too far-fetched. I wish that some of this willingness to find joy in simple things could be bottled!
Perhaps the most interesting moment came when we unpacked a colorful parachute, a gift from our benefactors. The challenge of keeping beach balls bouncing led to a great deal of fun for all ages. So much energy was expended to keep the parachute going, that we had to call for new participants regularly. Mathias was so exuberant that he even tore his pants!
The events were wonderful, but the spirit of the day was really the best part of our celebration. For a few hours, we were together as family – people from opposite sides of the world were joined for one purpose, with one voice. Gratitude and hope were in everyone’s hearts and smiles were everywhere.
Each year, when we hold this gathering, I am overwhelmed by the power of people working together with compassionate hearts. Benefactors offer their support, love, and generosity (along with sweeties and rosaries); our Ugandan staff toils endlessly to make the most of the gifts received from abroad; and our students are given the opportunity to build a stronger future for themselves and their country. Fr. Don and I are the direct recipients of the many words of thanks and kindness, and it is overwhelming and humbling. But really, those words are meant for all who have been part of St. Kizito Foundation.
And all praise and glory for this mission is the Lord’s.
This year’s celebration was as joy-filled as usual. The ever present rain held off so that we could do everything we hoped, which was a blessing in itself this year.
We began with Mass, complete with a makeshift choir that sounded as good as any well rehearsed group I’ve heard. Even Mzee, our gatesman, joined by acting as conductor for the opening song. (Mzee is a name of respect given to elders – his name is Kenneth but he is affectionately known as Mzee.) Fr. Don told a famous Russian folktale in his homily, with a lesson about the fact that we all have a part in the lives and salvation of each other. It was a fitting message for the day.
The girls of St. Monica’s Girl’s Vocational Centre graciously provided their catering skills to present a feast with both pork and chicken, along with Irish potatoes, cabbage salad, and rice. And of course there was cake to follow! With the food shortage and high costs, schools are reducing their already meager meals for the students. Morning porridge has been reduced to only tea for some, and grain shortages have led to the staple of posho and beans becoming only beans in other schools. (Posho is something similar to grits or polenta, and is a staple here.) It has always been typical for students to receive meat, chicken, or fish only once a week, or even sometimes less frequently. Now even that is threatened. So a meal with both pork and chicken, complete with fixings, is truly a feast in the truest sense of the word. There was praise heard throughout the day for the chance to eat so well.
One of the highlights of the day was the presentation of poems and songs made by some of our students. They are invited to share their thoughts and talents with us, and so many of them did take the chance to deliver their message. We heard words of encouragement and of gratitude, songs of praise to God, and even a riddle for the crowd to try to solve. It always amazes me that these young people are willing to stand in front of their peers and sing or talk with little self-consciousness. I try to imagine the average teen in the USA standing before his class to sing a gospel song, but the image is just too far-fetched. I wish that some of this willingness to find joy in simple things could be bottled!
Perhaps the most interesting moment came when we unpacked a colorful parachute, a gift from our benefactors. The challenge of keeping beach balls bouncing led to a great deal of fun for all ages. So much energy was expended to keep the parachute going, that we had to call for new participants regularly. Mathias was so exuberant that he even tore his pants!
The events were wonderful, but the spirit of the day was really the best part of our celebration. For a few hours, we were together as family – people from opposite sides of the world were joined for one purpose, with one voice. Gratitude and hope were in everyone’s hearts and smiles were everywhere.
Each year, when we hold this gathering, I am overwhelmed by the power of people working together with compassionate hearts. Benefactors offer their support, love, and generosity (along with sweeties and rosaries); our Ugandan staff toils endlessly to make the most of the gifts received from abroad; and our students are given the opportunity to build a stronger future for themselves and their country. Fr. Don and I are the direct recipients of the many words of thanks and kindness, and it is overwhelming and humbling. But really, those words are meant for all who have been part of St. Kizito Foundation.
And all praise and glory for this mission is the Lord’s.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Hope
Yesterday I went to school. Today I went to prison. Who knows what tomorrow will bring!
We never really know what will come for us, but what I have come to see in Uganda, and in Kenya as well, is a hope that is really the source of energy for life here.
Life in prison here is about as hopeless as I can imagine. For starters, more than half (sometimes MUCH more) of the inmates are here on remand, awaiting a trial or even a chance to appear before a judge. Only a small portion of the prison populations actually been convicted. The wait can be very long – months, or even years. The conditions are basic, with very limited food, close accommodations, and not much chance for activity. Yet the men we visited today, like the women last week, were as joy-filled and hopeful as can be as we celebrated Mass together. There is a faith in God’s help that guides them toward better things and keeps their hope in a better future alive.
The hope for good and successful futures is also very strong among our students. We visited several schools yesterday and met aspiring doctors, lawyers, nurses, and even a pilot! The opportunity to study, through the kindness of St. Kizito Foundation benefactors, has given hundreds of young Ugandans a reason to hope and plan for a future.
In Kenya, I visited the second largest slum in Africa, Kibera Village, with Mama Margaret, an amazing women who operates Tenderfeet School. This new primary school, supported also by kind benefactors, provides some of the children of Kibera slum with a wonderful school to attend. Not only are they receiving good education, but they are bussed from their homes in Kibera to the school, where they are provided breakfast and lunch along with a very pleasant location including a playground, a very good water well, and crops grown to provide the meals. This is hope fulfilled!
I also have had the blessing of spending two days and one night visiting Kyasira Home of Hope, an orphanage on the shores of Lake Victoria in Uganda. This home, run by the Good Samaritan Sisters, houses and cares for about 50 children, orphans with little hope for even a good meal before being taken in by the Sisters. At Home of Hope, we toured the crop fields, where we saw rows and rows of dying pineapple plants and many diseased cassava plants. Lack of rain and good agricultural products have made it very difficult to provide food for the children.
In fact, in Uganda, the cost of grains, staples, and fish are climbing at an inflation ratepof 23.6% according to the news. Funds are short and food is hard to find. Schools are raising their fees to help cover the cost of food, and some are even closing early.
So it is not easy to hope. But hope prevails.
At Home of Hope, the children, even those who are very small, gather in the chapel in the evening to pray. They drop to their knees to pray the rosary, fighting for the chance to lead a decade. And even the smallest of voices is strong and sure. There is certainly hope alive here.
The children need so much. But it seems to be the mere presence of visitors that is to them the greatest gift. (Of course, the M&M’s don’t hurt!)
Then there is Ronald. Last year he was a vibrant young man of 15. Now, one year later, he is paralyzed from some unknown disease and remains in his dark room alone much of the time. Asked what he wanted, he said a wheelchair and the chance to learn a craft so he can support himself.
Hope does spring eternal for him – a wheelchair has been delivered, along with some drawing and art supplies, for a start. He now has reason to hope that a better life will come.
Hope here is not hope for a life on Easy Street. It is a realistic hope for a way forward, with enough to survive and live a good life. What is needed to hold on to that hope, can be found in the example of the story of Abraham and his barren wife, Sarah. That which seems so very impossible – for them the birth of a child – can be realized if we keep our faith and trust in God. But hope also demands that we do whatever we can to help ourselves and others.
If the childless Abraham and Sarah could have many, many descendants, imagine what is possible here in east central Africa!
We never really know what will come for us, but what I have come to see in Uganda, and in Kenya as well, is a hope that is really the source of energy for life here.
Life in prison here is about as hopeless as I can imagine. For starters, more than half (sometimes MUCH more) of the inmates are here on remand, awaiting a trial or even a chance to appear before a judge. Only a small portion of the prison populations actually been convicted. The wait can be very long – months, or even years. The conditions are basic, with very limited food, close accommodations, and not much chance for activity. Yet the men we visited today, like the women last week, were as joy-filled and hopeful as can be as we celebrated Mass together. There is a faith in God’s help that guides them toward better things and keeps their hope in a better future alive.
The hope for good and successful futures is also very strong among our students. We visited several schools yesterday and met aspiring doctors, lawyers, nurses, and even a pilot! The opportunity to study, through the kindness of St. Kizito Foundation benefactors, has given hundreds of young Ugandans a reason to hope and plan for a future.
In Kenya, I visited the second largest slum in Africa, Kibera Village, with Mama Margaret, an amazing women who operates Tenderfeet School. This new primary school, supported also by kind benefactors, provides some of the children of Kibera slum with a wonderful school to attend. Not only are they receiving good education, but they are bussed from their homes in Kibera to the school, where they are provided breakfast and lunch along with a very pleasant location including a playground, a very good water well, and crops grown to provide the meals. This is hope fulfilled!
I also have had the blessing of spending two days and one night visiting Kyasira Home of Hope, an orphanage on the shores of Lake Victoria in Uganda. This home, run by the Good Samaritan Sisters, houses and cares for about 50 children, orphans with little hope for even a good meal before being taken in by the Sisters. At Home of Hope, we toured the crop fields, where we saw rows and rows of dying pineapple plants and many diseased cassava plants. Lack of rain and good agricultural products have made it very difficult to provide food for the children.
In fact, in Uganda, the cost of grains, staples, and fish are climbing at an inflation ratepof 23.6% according to the news. Funds are short and food is hard to find. Schools are raising their fees to help cover the cost of food, and some are even closing early.
So it is not easy to hope. But hope prevails.
At Home of Hope, the children, even those who are very small, gather in the chapel in the evening to pray. They drop to their knees to pray the rosary, fighting for the chance to lead a decade. And even the smallest of voices is strong and sure. There is certainly hope alive here.
The children need so much. But it seems to be the mere presence of visitors that is to them the greatest gift. (Of course, the M&M’s don’t hurt!)
Then there is Ronald. Last year he was a vibrant young man of 15. Now, one year later, he is paralyzed from some unknown disease and remains in his dark room alone much of the time. Asked what he wanted, he said a wheelchair and the chance to learn a craft so he can support himself.
Hope does spring eternal for him – a wheelchair has been delivered, along with some drawing and art supplies, for a start. He now has reason to hope that a better life will come.
Hope here is not hope for a life on Easy Street. It is a realistic hope for a way forward, with enough to survive and live a good life. What is needed to hold on to that hope, can be found in the example of the story of Abraham and his barren wife, Sarah. That which seems so very impossible – for them the birth of a child – can be realized if we keep our faith and trust in God. But hope also demands that we do whatever we can to help ourselves and others.
If the childless Abraham and Sarah could have many, many descendants, imagine what is possible here in east central Africa!
Monday, June 27, 2011
The Weather is Bad - And That's Good!
As I type this, I am sitting in my room listening to the sound of rain on the roof. It is not a gentle sound, but more like loud drumming. You see, in Uganda, when it rains, it pours. And that has happened for many days in a row here. It’s not all day rainstorms, but usually a few hours each day.
So here I am in Africa, where one thinks usually of hot sunny weather. You might think the rainy weather is a problem, or a disappointment. But in fact, it is a very good thing. Certainly it would be nice to avoid mud puddles deep and wide enough to swim in. And I can’t say I enjoy getting completely soaked and muddy when walking from place to place. The rain also can wreak havoc with an outdoor Ordination Mass! (More on that soon)
Nevertheless, the rain is good. Right now, there is an extreme food shortage, and lack of rain very often contributes in making the food situation go from bad to much, much worse. Here, irrigation is nearly unheard of, since public water systems are almost absent. Water is carried from bore holes, where it is pumped from deep in the ground. Or from streams and small bodies of water. There is often only enough for necessities such as drinking, cooking, and washing. Rainwater collection works wonders in these situations and is one common way of improving water availability. And rain means that the crops are watered and the ground is moist! So I hope that these afternoon “showers” continue, for the sake of the people here and their needs. I just hope it chooses it’s arrival when I am under cover!
Yesterday was perhaps the worst rainstorm I have yet seen here. It began in the middle of the Ordination Mass for the Deacons who have nearly completed their studies at the seminary. As any celebration in Uganda, this one was a major event. It was made more special for us because one of our own, a St. Kizito student, was ordained. Mathew, who has lost both of his parents, was happy to have us present for his big day, and we felt blessed that we were able to see the success of a very nice young man.
The Cathedral here is not big enough for Ordinations, since they are public events attended by a large part of the community, including many of the students in boarding schools. So tents are erected, and tarps are draped over temporary structures to protect people from the heat (or so we thought). The Altar is actually a permanent structure similar to a gazebo, and is raised so all can see well. But the best part of the celebration is that everyone is so filled with joy and energy, the singing is beautiful, and people cheer and clap at the blessing they feel they are receiving in 3 newly ordained deacons. The Mass was very personal and lively.
At some time near the end, the rains came.
It began slowly, but grew and grew until we could no longer hear what was being said on the Altar. I was sitting under the tarps, and along with the many other people there I watched as they began to gather water, and then sag and leak. People moved their chairs to avoid the water dripping, but it seemed the leaks were following! It rained this way for over an hour before anyone could go anywhere!
At first, I thought it a bit sad that such an important day for Mathew and the others was being disturbed by the rain. But as I sat and pondered (not much else I could do because the speeches they began giving were all in Acholi) I decided that this was really much more fitting. Water is one of the sustaining substances in our world. It brings life, cleanliness, relief, and sometimes soothing. And here in Uganda, it is cause for great celebration. So what better way to begin a life of service to God than with water pouring down.
And thankfully, the rain ended and the sun came out in time for the dancing, music, and lunch that is part of the day. It was wonderful to see some of the schools of St. Kizito students present and performing for the event. It was really a very good day.
So let it rain.
So here I am in Africa, where one thinks usually of hot sunny weather. You might think the rainy weather is a problem, or a disappointment. But in fact, it is a very good thing. Certainly it would be nice to avoid mud puddles deep and wide enough to swim in. And I can’t say I enjoy getting completely soaked and muddy when walking from place to place. The rain also can wreak havoc with an outdoor Ordination Mass! (More on that soon)
Nevertheless, the rain is good. Right now, there is an extreme food shortage, and lack of rain very often contributes in making the food situation go from bad to much, much worse. Here, irrigation is nearly unheard of, since public water systems are almost absent. Water is carried from bore holes, where it is pumped from deep in the ground. Or from streams and small bodies of water. There is often only enough for necessities such as drinking, cooking, and washing. Rainwater collection works wonders in these situations and is one common way of improving water availability. And rain means that the crops are watered and the ground is moist! So I hope that these afternoon “showers” continue, for the sake of the people here and their needs. I just hope it chooses it’s arrival when I am under cover!
Yesterday was perhaps the worst rainstorm I have yet seen here. It began in the middle of the Ordination Mass for the Deacons who have nearly completed their studies at the seminary. As any celebration in Uganda, this one was a major event. It was made more special for us because one of our own, a St. Kizito student, was ordained. Mathew, who has lost both of his parents, was happy to have us present for his big day, and we felt blessed that we were able to see the success of a very nice young man.
The Cathedral here is not big enough for Ordinations, since they are public events attended by a large part of the community, including many of the students in boarding schools. So tents are erected, and tarps are draped over temporary structures to protect people from the heat (or so we thought). The Altar is actually a permanent structure similar to a gazebo, and is raised so all can see well. But the best part of the celebration is that everyone is so filled with joy and energy, the singing is beautiful, and people cheer and clap at the blessing they feel they are receiving in 3 newly ordained deacons. The Mass was very personal and lively.
At some time near the end, the rains came.
It began slowly, but grew and grew until we could no longer hear what was being said on the Altar. I was sitting under the tarps, and along with the many other people there I watched as they began to gather water, and then sag and leak. People moved their chairs to avoid the water dripping, but it seemed the leaks were following! It rained this way for over an hour before anyone could go anywhere!
At first, I thought it a bit sad that such an important day for Mathew and the others was being disturbed by the rain. But as I sat and pondered (not much else I could do because the speeches they began giving were all in Acholi) I decided that this was really much more fitting. Water is one of the sustaining substances in our world. It brings life, cleanliness, relief, and sometimes soothing. And here in Uganda, it is cause for great celebration. So what better way to begin a life of service to God than with water pouring down.
And thankfully, the rain ended and the sun came out in time for the dancing, music, and lunch that is part of the day. It was wonderful to see some of the schools of St. Kizito students present and performing for the event. It was really a very good day.
So let it rain.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Heart
One of my professors at St. Mary’s Seminary taught that the opposite of love is a divided heart. We are all created to have a heart only devoted to Jesus, and all other love comes from him. If our heart is divided, it cannot love in the truest sense of the word.
I began my visit to Africa in Nairobi, where I first visited one of St. Kizito’s alumni, Moses. He is a wonderful young man and I consider him as a son. It was a special time for us to be together in his homeland of Kenya for the first time, and special also because I was able to meet the love of his life, as well as his young sister who has been HIV positive since birth and is often in Moses’ care. In our travels and exploration around Nairobi, we saw models of traditional homes, fed a giraffe named Laura (I drew the line at kissing her as the guide suggested!), and viewed government buildings. But the most important stops were to meet many of Moses' relatives. By the end of the short visit, I felt as if I was among family, and the prospect of leaving was sad indeed – for all of us. I pondered the situation, and began to question the wisdom of my professor. I realized that in these encounters and partings, it seems as if we leave a little piece of our heart behind. And we take a small piece of the heart of those we care about with us. The image of a divided heart kept coming to me, and I began to wonder how such a strong feeling of sadness on separating, this heartbreak, could be the opposite of love, since it stemmed from loving each other.
There is a strong sense of unity of the human family in Africa. "We are all family" is not just a casual phrase, but a deep seated reality. Since I left Nairobi, I have reunited with so many others who are “like family.” I have met new people who will also become part of the clan. And I will have to say goodbye to them all as well, as my time here will end soon enough. And this leaving will be followed by a reunion with my husband and children that I long for each day, even as I revel in being here in Uganda.
It all became very clear to me this morning as Fr. Don gave the concluding prayer at Mass. He prayed that we could all join the heart of Christ. And I reflected that Christ, who is the only true love, is also the only heart, and we are all one with him. As we do the work of Christ in the world, we encounter many people, some casually, and others as lasting connections. And we do exchange a bit of our heart with each other, so that ultimately all hearts may be as Christ’s – one with many parts. We give a bit so that we can receive much and experience the true love that is not of us, but for us in Christ.
The mass this morning was the third I had attended in 24 hours. Each of the Masses had a different settings, each had its own characteristics, but all three were very evidently a joining with Christ, one heart and one body. All of the Masses had one thing in common – they were all lively and joyful, Uganda style. The Mass at a girls vocational school brought beautiful singing and joyfully proclaimed readings, even very early in the morning. Mass with the Sacred Heart Sisters in their chapel was small and had a more peaceful joy and sense of togetherness. The celebration at the Women’s Prison was very inspiring. There was a freeing energy to the Mass and a hope that it would never end. Even the guards and matrons were seen swaying to the rhythmic beat of the music. One of our St. Kizito sons was with us - Moses - and he shared deeply with the women at the prison, offering some experiences from the depth of his heart to give them hope.
After the liturgy ended and we shared greetings with one another, one final song exploded into lively dancing - which I just couldn’t resist partaking in! As we all danced and moved among each other, the unity of all, with no concern for background and situation in life, was one of the most amazing experiences I have had. We were truly joining together as the heart of Christ.
In the celebration of the Eucharis, the host, the Body of Christ, is divided and shared in order for the community to be joined in praise. This too is happening to our hearts each day as we live in Jesus’ name.
When I finally return home, I will bring a changed heart. It will carry a small part of everyone I encounter here. It is a blessing.
I began my visit to Africa in Nairobi, where I first visited one of St. Kizito’s alumni, Moses. He is a wonderful young man and I consider him as a son. It was a special time for us to be together in his homeland of Kenya for the first time, and special also because I was able to meet the love of his life, as well as his young sister who has been HIV positive since birth and is often in Moses’ care. In our travels and exploration around Nairobi, we saw models of traditional homes, fed a giraffe named Laura (I drew the line at kissing her as the guide suggested!), and viewed government buildings. But the most important stops were to meet many of Moses' relatives. By the end of the short visit, I felt as if I was among family, and the prospect of leaving was sad indeed – for all of us. I pondered the situation, and began to question the wisdom of my professor. I realized that in these encounters and partings, it seems as if we leave a little piece of our heart behind. And we take a small piece of the heart of those we care about with us. The image of a divided heart kept coming to me, and I began to wonder how such a strong feeling of sadness on separating, this heartbreak, could be the opposite of love, since it stemmed from loving each other.
There is a strong sense of unity of the human family in Africa. "We are all family" is not just a casual phrase, but a deep seated reality. Since I left Nairobi, I have reunited with so many others who are “like family.” I have met new people who will also become part of the clan. And I will have to say goodbye to them all as well, as my time here will end soon enough. And this leaving will be followed by a reunion with my husband and children that I long for each day, even as I revel in being here in Uganda.
It all became very clear to me this morning as Fr. Don gave the concluding prayer at Mass. He prayed that we could all join the heart of Christ. And I reflected that Christ, who is the only true love, is also the only heart, and we are all one with him. As we do the work of Christ in the world, we encounter many people, some casually, and others as lasting connections. And we do exchange a bit of our heart with each other, so that ultimately all hearts may be as Christ’s – one with many parts. We give a bit so that we can receive much and experience the true love that is not of us, but for us in Christ.
The mass this morning was the third I had attended in 24 hours. Each of the Masses had a different settings, each had its own characteristics, but all three were very evidently a joining with Christ, one heart and one body. All of the Masses had one thing in common – they were all lively and joyful, Uganda style. The Mass at a girls vocational school brought beautiful singing and joyfully proclaimed readings, even very early in the morning. Mass with the Sacred Heart Sisters in their chapel was small and had a more peaceful joy and sense of togetherness. The celebration at the Women’s Prison was very inspiring. There was a freeing energy to the Mass and a hope that it would never end. Even the guards and matrons were seen swaying to the rhythmic beat of the music. One of our St. Kizito sons was with us - Moses - and he shared deeply with the women at the prison, offering some experiences from the depth of his heart to give them hope.
After the liturgy ended and we shared greetings with one another, one final song exploded into lively dancing - which I just couldn’t resist partaking in! As we all danced and moved among each other, the unity of all, with no concern for background and situation in life, was one of the most amazing experiences I have had. We were truly joining together as the heart of Christ.
In the celebration of the Eucharis, the host, the Body of Christ, is divided and shared in order for the community to be joined in praise. This too is happening to our hearts each day as we live in Jesus’ name.
When I finally return home, I will bring a changed heart. It will carry a small part of everyone I encounter here. It is a blessing.
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