“Shank you”

11.07.09

On October 25^th my mom and little sister came to visit me for two weeks. It was incredible to see them. I meet them in Entebbe at the airport. Standing at the gate I was extremely excited to see them. Each and every time a person would come out, my heart would skip a beat thinking it was them. A cute older couple next to me noticed my excitement and struck up a conversation. They turned out to be from Littleton, Colorado and the husband had graduated from Littleton. He was now running the international university in Kampala. It is such a small world we live in. Not long after they left the amount of people waiting was dwindling down until it was just me. All I wanted was to see my mom but I could only see her back and blonde hair. They were sitting in the lost baggage office. Out of the six bags they lost one. Unfortunately the bag that was lost was full of goodies for us. But we got the back about a week later when Pat Pauline, President of Musana’s board and Andrea’s mom, came back to Musana. The next day my mom, sister and I meet Morris and Andrea in Kampala. I left them and went to the immigration office to sort out visa issues. We meet back up and grabbed lunch with Jared Mackey, a TNL pastor. It was great to see him and hear about the wonderful work he is doing with Come Let’s Dance and TNL( The Next Level church in Denver). We then embarked on the journey back to Iganga. Before taking them to our house we stopped at Musana. The kids sang welcome songs and were very excited to meet Auntie Kay and Auntie Liza. After leaving Musana we took them back to our house. For most of the time they were here we spent it in the art room making beads. My mom was extremely helpful. From the morning to the evening she was by my side trying to help me in anyway I needed it. It was very encouraging. She also brought a lot of bead supplies. A close family friend, Brooke Dalton, donated seed bead supplies and the best containers for the beads. Everyone was concerned for how excited I got about my new bead supplies! Thanks Brooke for your continued support of Musana and what I am doing! I wish I had more to say about them being here but we spent most of our time in bead land, which has become my entire life. I think everyone I live with was getting concerned when they noticed how even after I leave work I continue beading at home.

On Monday we all decided to go white water raft on the Nile. I am still not sure how we convinced my mom but she came with us. The rapids are class 4 and 5. In Colorado the only rapids they let you do are 3 and 4. The stretch of the Nile we rafted has been said to have the best white water in the world. The world’s best kayakers live in Jinja and kayak it for a living. If you ever get the chance to do it, do not turn down the opportunity! It was a day I will never forget! And thankfully no one got too seriously injured. There was a group of four guys from Japan. They were literally cartoons. We were watching the get in there raft and they began trying to push each other out. Somehow they all ended up in the water. They flipped on almost every rapid. On one of the rapids we went down before them and were watching them come down. Their raft flipped and one of them ended up near out raft. Climbing back into the raft after you fall out is extremely hard. You almost always need someone to pull you back in. He struggled to get in before my sister came over and used her super human strength to yank him in the raft. He was lying wet and scared in the bottom of our raft, and then he looked up at my sister and said “shank you!” He looked at her like she had just saved his life. On the last rapid it happened again. I think that time he might have thought she was an angel.

We hired a man named Joseph for me to train to do my job. He is a university student studying to be a social worker. Joseph has continually impressed me with his drive to learn and his work ethic. With him at Musana helping me it will lighten my work load to a more manageable level. Before I come home we are hoping to make around 5,000 necklaces. If you want a necklace, let me know!

I am in shock at how close I am to going home for Christmas. I have a little over a month and a half. Our Ugandan co director is coming back with us to Colorado for a month to fundraise for Musana. He will be speaking at schools and churches around Denver. I am extremely excited to see how God uses him to bless Musana!

"Empezo"- injection

10.18.09

Last Saturday I had what I thought was a brilliant idea. I wanted to get my hair braided into tiny braids all over my head. One of my Ugandan friends, Martha, agreed to take me where she gets her hair braided. The downfall of the my seemingly brilliant plan was not that it looked bad, in fact it looked really good, it was that it took ten and a half hours. Yes, I did say ten and a half. I had been told it would take five. And after five hours I was still doing alright. But it didn’t stop there, which is where the problem was. I spent around eight hours sitting on a concrete floor and the rest in a chair. It was raining and very cold outside. I didn’t really think anything of the fact that I was shivering uncontrollably. I had not eaten all day and had only stood up once to move to the chair. My body pain and temperature I blamed on lack of movement and the weather. Once I got home I went straight to my bed. I had blankets piled on me but I was still shaking. They felt my head and heat was radiating off my body. My fever had reached 104. We all just thought it was malaria.

After a rough night of little sleep I woke up and felt like I couldn’t move. I lay in bed for a few hours and finally had to get up to go to the bathroom. My left leg felt immobile. Curious as to the case of all my bone and muscle pain in my left leg I lifted my pant leg to see. There were four giant wounds. They appeared to be a poisonous spider bites. All around the wound my skin was rock hard and turning black. I could feel the pain all the way in my bones. Moving my leg caused me to scream out in pain. Morris told me that it was a bacterial infection. We went to a clinic in Iganga. The nurse looks at it and tells me it is chicken pox. At that point she lost all credibility in my book. We told her to just treat me for a bacterial infection. And so I am laying on this table watching the nurse, who thought my bacterial infection was the chicken pox, prepare a shot. She then comes over and tells me to lie down and sleep. I lay down and begin asking “what is the shot you’re about to give me”. She moves it behind her back and replies “what shot? Just sleep”. Now I am getting annoyed, I tell her “the shot you’re holding in your hand, right there. The shot I just watched you make. What did you put in it?” Similar conversation continues for the next minute. The conversation was not as calm as it may sound. The amount of pain I was in was making it hard to function. I guess she wasn’t really happy with me because she literally stabbed me in the butt with the shot. Then she starts making another shot to give me in a vein in the top of my hand. She puts the shot in and wiggles it around a little. Once the needle part is over she hand me a ton of medicine and tells me I need to come back everyday for the next five days to get more shots. The next day I went back for the shots. Each of my hands were completely bruised all around the vein. My condition by that night had not improved but deteriorated. Some volunteers came home that night and convinced me that I really needed to see a real doctor. We left around eight for Kampala to go to the international hospital. The doctor told me that I had a hypersensitive allergic reaction to some kind of bite and it turned into a secondary bacterial infection. The medicine I had been put on at the clinic was doing nothing because it was just general antibiotics. He said my entire leg would have become infected if I had not come. The other medicine the clinic had put me on was for stomach worms. We are still not exactly sure why they gave me that. The doctor put a port in my hand and I began a strong treatment of antibiotics and steroids. My veins were too damaged to put the port in where they normally do so they placed it in the vein coming from my thumb. It was extremely uncomfortable positioning.

I needed to get more shots at eight in the morning and it was already late so we spent the night in the waiting room. I got more shots in the morning and left to go back to Iganga. For the next few days I stayed in Jinja to continue treatment. They had to remove the port in my left hand and put a new one in my right. When they were putting the medicine in my port it was forming a bump in my vein and burning. As upset as I was to be getting a new port I knew it would feel a lot better.

Now I am home in Iganga and feeling much better. The places are my legs are almost healed! Thankfully the week is over and I can get back to Musana soon. 

Quick update on Musana and my life!

Sorry blogs have been taking so long! Things have been so busy here. 

We got 2 new volunteers yesterday. They are social workers from Missouri. We are all very excited to welcome them to the musana family.

Currently I am developing a project to empower women in a village called Buwongo. Several of our kids come from that village and some of their relatives are involved. I have been teaching the women to make paper beads! There are twenty-four women right now but we are going to have thirty soon. I have divided them into three groups. One group rolls beads, one group varnishes beads and the last group strings the beads into necklaces and bracelets. It has been a lot of fun but defiantly a growing experience.

We moved into a new house a couple weeks ago. The new house is perfect. Much closer to town and Musana. Our house girl, Rehema, loves the kitchen! And, the best part about it is that the house is pink! 

Musana got a new head master who is really good. He is determined to make Musana the best school in the district. 

Morris is trying to get a visa to come to america for Christmas time to speak at churches. Pray his interview goes well! 

Musana has been getting more kids which has been a lot of fun. 

Our newsletter is about to come out, look for it! 

Thank you so much for your continued support! 

Buffalo Solider

9.26.09

The other day I was in a taxi coming home from Jinja. They started cramming a lot of people in the taxi and my fellow passengers were yelling at the taxi men. They were putting four or five people in each row (that should only have three). The two Ugandan women behind me were very upset. One looked at the other and said “this is Africa, what do you expect”. Hearing that from a foreigner is not uncommon but to hear a Ugandan say it in perfect English made both my friend and I turn around. In the movie Blood Diamond, Leonardo Dicaprio says “TIA” meaning “this is Africa”. TIA is a phrase you regularly hear westerners say. I feel like all my really interesting stories have to do with transportation.

 

Today I was riding out to a village on a boda. As I was looking around, it hit me. I am taking for granite this place I live in. At first the stunning landscape is one of the only things your eye catches. While all around it is some of the world’s worst poverty. The beauty of Uganda was overshadowing the dark reality. Soon the glimmer of the landscape faded and the poverty was all I saw. Today I realized that at some point in time the two seemingly opposite things transformed into one. The chaos and brokenness only added to the beauty of this country. It’s hard to describe how poverty can be a beautiful thing, but it can. Even in some of the worst circumstances the children still run to you smiling, the women still greet you and offer the little food they have. Seeing such generosity from people who have very little is a beautiful thing. Anyways, you make think I am crazy but that’s just how I feel. Back to why I was headed to a village. I was teaching woman in Buwongo how to make paper bead necklaces. We sat under a giant African tree. Somewhere close by Bob Marley’s Buffalo Solider was playing. Twenty-four women were all seated around watching closely. Some picked up bead rolling quickly, while others really struggled. Soon children and men from the village gathered looking on at what their wives and mothers were doing. It became such a community thing. I am really excited to be working with them but not so excited for all the trips out to the village! 

Nakavule Hospital

9.15.09

About a week ago I was walking through town along the main highway when I saw a crowd of Ugandans. As I approached to see what all the fuss was about the crowd parted and they all kept saying “mzungu, you see.” My curiosity got the best of me. First I saw a motorcycle laying open the ground. About ten feet away was the body of its driver. It was gruesome. My stomach convulsed and I gulped back my lunch. Was I really seeing this? The new volunteers were just feet away and approaching. I assured them they didn’t want to see it and we left.

Politics in Kampala have been causing quite the stir in the country. The Buganda tribe was rioting throughout Kampala over disrespecting their king and land. Musevini, Uganda’s president had disrespected the king by not allowing a youth rally to take place. The Buganda people view the king as higher than the president. Tribal issues in Uganda are very interesting. Bugandans feel like they own the land that the capitol is on. Obviously Musevini can not just give them Kampala. Somewhere around ten people ended up dying in the riots. Musevini released the army into the city to bring peace. They had live ammunition and a lot of tear gas. The US embassy was saying to avoid Kampala, especially on Saturday. Saturday was when the youth rally was scheduled. The king of Buganda had called for all Bugandans to participate and the king himself was planning to march with his people in the riots. But when Saturday morning rolled around the king had a ton of army men barricading him in his home. The king then released a statement ordering all Bugandas not to riot and to cancel the rally. Whether or not a gun was held to the king’s head and he was forced to say it is a whole other story. Thankfully it seems there is peace in Kampala. I was at the post office and a taxi pulled up. A crowd gathered again and due to my extreme curiosity I went over. A man from Iganga had gotten caught in the the cross fire during one of the riots and had been killed. His body was in the taxi. It was a hard week.

Yesterday I took this little girl named Faith to the hospital. Her eyelid was completely swollen. We sat at the hospital for three hours. Then they drained the puss out of her eyelid by cutting it open. I felt so bad for her. Poor little Faith!

Flat Tires

9.06.09
On Tuesday we left to take a volunteer to the airport. It was an adventure, like transportation always is. In the middle of no where we got a flat tire. When we got our spare out Morris said there was no way it would make it to the next town. We got the car jacked up and was trying to take the bolts off when the wrench broke. One of us jumped on a boda and went to the next town to get it fixed. We waited patiently next to the car. Once the wrench got back we changed the tire and thankfully made it to the next town. In the next town we went to the closest gas station and waited for a guy to come repair the tire. They took out the tube and found the hole in it. This all took a little over an hour. But the whole ordeal took around 3 hours. We had to hurry to the airport because we were getting nervous about the jam in Kampala (which you can sit in for around 3 hours). But thankfully we made it in time. It was such a weird experience going to the airport but not leaving. I am really going to miss Ti. She taught me so much about myself. I am a natural born extrovert. Making friends and starting conversations has never been a challenge for me. I can get along with almost anyone. But Ti was an extreme introvert. She challenged me and my ability to connect with her. At first it was a struggle but I learned a lot and built a relationship that I cherish. We had until Friday in Kampala before we needed to pick up a new volunteer.

On Wednesday Andrea and I went to Katanga slums to visit some of my friends from the previous years. I had met this woman named Shakira last year, whom I wrote about in my support letter, and I really wanted to see her. Shakira had been a prostitute in the slums and Come Let’s Dance helped her find alternative means of support. Andrea and I were waiting for a staff member from Come Let’s Dance outside of a slum church. I heard a woman yell “Annie Morrison”. I began looking around, and saw Shakira. I was in shock that she had remembered me. The CLD staff member came around the corner with her son, Ema. (Ema is the little boy in the picture where we are looking at each other, it is on my blog) Ema ran up and jumped in my arms. Then we went to Shakira’s home and talked for awhile. It was really good to see her. The relationships with Ugandans that I have built in previous trips here mean so much to me.

The rest of our time in Kampala we just hung out and ran around Kampala. On Friday we picked up Lynne from the airport. Our van had been at the mechanic all week and wasn’t finished being fixed by the time we needed to leave for the airport. It was a whirlwind of chaos trying to get everyone going to the airport. The entire drive there everyone was looking at their watches realizing that we were 30 minutes away and her flight was just landing. Andrea and I ran through Uganda’s small airport and thankfully made it there right before she came out. The timing worked out perfectly. Lynne just graduated from CU and is now living in Tennessee. She is a really sweet girl and I am thrilled that she is here. Once we got in the outskirts of Kampala we got a flat tire. No big surprise. This time we didn’t even have a spare tire. We pulled into a gas station and sat next to the car while the boys did everything. They took the tire off and fixed it. Then Morris decided we should buy two new tires for the front of the car, since they were the ones that kept popping. We waited and got the new tires put on the van. After two hours our van had new tires and a fixed spare tire. And we were on our way home to Iganga! We just had to sit in jam for about two hours in Kampala. As unreliable as public transportation has been somehow our own van ended up being even more unreliable. I couldn’t decide what was better: being stuck in a jam packed taxi with chickens or sitting on the side of the road constantly for flat tires. Well that’s Africa for ya! Just as they say in Blood Diamond, TIA (This is Africa).

The kids all came back to Musana on Sunday and Monday. I was so excited for them to come back. We got a few new kids, a tailor, a new head master, a social worker and a new volunteer. Things at Musana are very exciting! Our social workers name is Ester and she is amazing. Ester is 7 months pregnant right now! We can’t wait for her new baby. Our new head master is such a great guy. His vision is to make Musana’s school the best in the district. We are very exciting!

Swimming Day!

9.02.09
A few days ago we took around ten of our kids to the pool in Jinja. The only concept of swimming these kids had ever experienced was swamps, sewage or Lake Victoria. All of which are extremely different from swimming in a pool. They were so excited when we came to pick them all up. Once we got to the pool they could barely contain their excitement. It was as if you had just told them that you were going to give them a million dollars. Solmon stood by the pool staring into the clear water. His face was frozen in amazement. After the kids ate some lunch, the swimming began. At first I was the only one in the pool with the kids. It was chaos. But, it was the kind of chaos that makes you stop dead in your tracks and appreciate that fleeting moment where there seems to be nothing else in the world besides you and who you’re with. I had Bosco, Nora and Shakira (six and seven year old sister who are some of the cutest little girls ever) clinging on to me for dear life. The older kids where jumping around, throwing balls, screaming, laughing and splashing each other. Their happiness was evident for everyone to see. After hours and hours of swimming we finally had to drag most of them from the pool, but the moment we got into the car the majority of them feel right asleep. It was by far my favorite day at the pool!

Bosco

Sipi Falls!

5.25.09

Everyone always tells me how living in Africa must never get boring. Extremely inaccurate! Right now, I am ridiculously bored. All of our kids have returned to stay with guardians for the holiday and we are left with nothing to do. Andrea is reading this book written by Paulo Coelho (who also wrote the Alchemist) called The Witch of Portobello. We were sitting at a hotel in Iganga working on whatever we could find. While we were struggling to sit still for only a few moments of silence in between a gap in conversation, she came across a passage all about finding contentment in the absence of activities. Here is the passage….

 

“I felt uneasy: Shouldn’t I be doing something? Well, if I wanted to invent work, that wouldn’t take much effort. We all have projects to develop, light bulbs to change, leaves to sweep, books to put away, computer files to organize, etc. But how about just facing up to the void? It was then that I remembered something that seemed to me of great importance: I needed to walk to the letter box – which is less than a mile from my house in the country- and post one of the Christmas cards lying forgotten on my desk. And I was surprised; Why did I need to send that card today? Was it really so hard just to stay where I was, doing nothing?”

 

 

Over the weekend I walked to the post office, which is about a twenty minute walk, everyday even though I knew it was not open.Talk about convicting! In the moments of extreme silence I have been trying to find peace with it. And so I haven’t opened the book I am reading, gotten online or walked the streets of Iganda purposelessly. I have simply sat there, letting myself grow in patience. Even as I write this blog I know it just another activity I am cleverly using to distract myself from the absence of responsibility. Anyways, yet again I am being taught patience.

 

On Sunday morning Ti and I left for Mbale to simply get away. We had no plans, hotels, maps, or contacts there. We simply jumped on a taxi and went. Bosco came with us. Once we got to Mbale we wanted to go to the “Mt. Elgon View Hotel”.  The clouds were dark and we knew rain was on the way. A boda driver claimed he knew where it was and the price was good. About a minute on the boda and it started to rain. Next thing we knew it was pouring rain. The boda was sliding and I thought I was going to die. The driver ended up taking us to the wrong hotel but we didn’t care too much. When Ti approached me about going with her I told her that I didn’t have the money at the moment. And she made an offer I couldn’t resist. Ti told me that she would pay for the hotels if I came. The hotel we ended up staying at was extremely nice. I looked like a little kid in a candy shop as I walked around the hotel. The most exciting part about this hotel was the warm shower. At home I would consider having warm water in a hotel room about as important as having a bed in the room. But here, it was a luxury. And I took the first warm shower I have had in almost 3 months. The hotel restaurant was very good! Not having African meals was extremely refreshing. Bosco seemed like he was in shock at the whole experience. They also had a mini gold course. Which was really hard to explain to Bosco. We meet a crazy Australian engineer named Alex. He told us about a bus leaving from the hotel in the morning that goes to Mt. Elgon and Sipi Falls. Sipi Falls is this giant water fall around the base of Mt. Elgon. Ti and I decided that a small hike around that area would be a lot of fun. We wake up early and set off on an hour long bus ride with Alex. Uncle Alex, as Bosco called him, let Bosco watch music videos on his ipod and helped keep Bosco entertained. At one point during the ride I looked at Bosco and he had a lot drool around his mouth. As it turned out he had thrown up all the side of the car and my leg. My immediate reaction was laughing. It seemed like just my luck to have him throw up on me. I attempted to whip my leg off but could barely do it without gagging. We had to keep really quiet about the situation because we didn’t want any trouble with the taxi driver. Somewhere in between all the chaos, Ti threw my bag into the trunk of the car. As we were getting out of the taxi she forgot all about my back pack. I had just assumed she had grabbed. The barf on my leg and on Bosco was holding the majority of my attention. About thirty seconds after we got off the taxi I looked around and didn’t see my bag. Thankfully the hiking guides knew the driver. One of the guides and Alex hopped on a boda and chased after the taxi. They caught the taxi in the next town. As Alex went to get my bag the taxi driver pointed at him and said “YOU!” I guess they had found Bosco’s breakfast all over the back seat. They grabbed my bag and jumped back on the boda as quick as they could. We were trying to figure out what we should do about going home or staying up at Sipi. Since Ti had offered to pay for the room it was her decision what she wanted to do. She decided that we should stay at Sipi River Lodge. It had bandas next to the river and the base of one of the three giant waterfalls. Again we got warm shower and delicious food. We had cheese, pizza, pasta, fresh bed and fresh coffee. The food alone was enough to make me happy. Shortly after we arrived we went on a hike to a cave behind the water fall. It was beautiful and cool behind the waterfall. The past two days were a needed break from Iganga. And Bosco had so much fun.  When he got home he immediately ran to Rehem, our house girl who Bosco has come to love, and started telling her everything we did and saw.

 

Well anyway, I guess that is what is going on here! 

Street Kids.

8.22.09
Yesterday I was sitting in a mzungu restaurant with Bosco, waiting for a birthday cake. Bosco and I were sharing a cinnamon roll, which has become my source of sanity against all the beans and rice I eat. Outside stood a young boy, who clearly was living on the street, his clothes were tatter and worn and his face held a look of hopelessness. I, honestly, had barely noticed him. Bosco watched the boy outside. Then he turned to me and pointed to boy, pointed to his cinnamon roll and said “auntie?” . I nodded that it was okay and bosco ripped his half of the cinnamon roll in half. As Bosco walked toward the boy a visable change in facial expressions took place. The Ugandans working at the restaurant looked on with surprise. Bosco gave away half of his cinnamon roll and exchanged a few words with the boy. A few minutes later Bosco asked me if he could give the boy some avocado from his lunch. I nodded my head again, speechless at the genorisity exhibited in a 3 year old. He showed both the boy and I the compassion of our savior. It had not even occurred to me to walk over and give anything away. I was so inspired. Which led to a lot of thinking. Bosco left with a volunteer and went back to Iganda. I had to wait a few hours for the cake to be finished. Sitting on Main Street in Jinja by myself I watched groups of street kids stalking the white tourists and volunteers. They literally would swarm the mzungus and ask for money, food, anything really. Normally, I get frustrated with the persistency of these kids. But instead, as they were walking by I called them over. The relieved mzungus looked confused at why I would want them to come to me. They had just spent a few minutes trying to get them to go away. The young boys sat with me and asked for money at first. I simply ignored the plea and kept asking them questions in Lusoga. I learned the boy’s names and spent a long time talking with them. This all made me come to a conclusion. I want to start a street kid outreach in Jinja. The raw reality of living on the streets is something that has always fasionated me. First I will need to finish school, but if you want to help me let me know!

Last night we were talking with some of our staff at Musana. We have a BIG problem. Snakes. Ever seen Kill Bill? She uses an African snake to kill some people. Well we have huge cobras living in our compound. Not to mention all the small poisonous snakes. Oh and we have a GIANT MONITOR LIZARD. Please google that. It is a huge scary lizard. The reptile problem at Musana scared me more than anything. Most of the giant snakes don’t come out until dark but the giant monitor lizard comes out whenever it feels like it. At first we thought it was a komodo dragon but after more googling and guide book reading we found the giant monitor lizard. I am pretty scared. Snakes and lizards were all I dreamt about last night

Look at this!

http://images.google.com/images?sourceid=navclient&rlz=1T4DKUS_enUS255US255&q=giant%20monitor%20lizard&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&hl=en&tab=wi

Rainstorms, Cinnamon Rolls and Long Lost Siblings.

8.20.09
On Sunday we went to the pool and Bosco came. Our Ugandans kept asking Bosco if he knew how to swim. Bosco told us that when he was living in the slums they would search for pools of water, which happen to be sewage water, and spend the day swimming in them. When we got to the pool Bosco jumped right in. He really enjoyed swimming for about ten minutes but then the icy cold water was too much for him. Bosco spent the rest of the time playing with his red truck. It was a really cloudy day at the pool but once again it was a blast trying to teach Ugandans how to swim. Andrea and I decided that they must be made of lead. Teaching them how to float might quite possibly be, well impossible. I never realized how hard it can be to describe something that has become as natural as floating. When they finally get relaxed enough to have us not hold them up as they are “floating”, the moment we let go they go into panic mode which causes them to sink. No matter how many time we tell them to relax, because the panic causes them to sink, they can not rap their heads around it. It makes for great entertainment for 5 year olds in the pool who are diving in and swimming laps around the boys. While we were at the pool Bosco’s brother and sisters, who he had no seen for over a year, showed up with the woman who runs at street children ministry that supports them. It was an extremely emotional thing for them all. When we had to leave the pool they were all in tears. Heidi, their director, planned to meet us in jijna on Tuesday with the kids and then Bosco would be able to spend the night with them. I carried Bosco out of the pool and he sobbed in my arms. It was so hard to separate them all. But then we got on a boda boda and his spirit was miraculously lifted!

On Monday Bosco and I went back to Jinja to have lunch with my friend Eunice (she taught me how to make paper beads). We meet in Jinja town and then took a boda to her home. Eunice’s family was so excited to have us there. Bosco enjoyed playing with Eunice’s siblings and neighbors. They made us a very yummy meal. We got white rice, chicken and passion fruit juice. Bosco rarely gets meat at the orphanage so when he gets it he eats as much as he can. Unfortunately for Bosco he is missing all of his front teeth except for two. The two front teeth he has have a huge gap in between them. To eat meat Bosco has to stick it really far back in his mouth. Eunice and I laughed really hard watching him eat it. Eunice is rapidly turning into one of my closet friends here. As she was walking me back to the road to get a boda, we stopped to talk to some of her neighbors who were all making beads together. They were so excited when Eunice told them that I am making beads with kids. One of the women gave me a beautiful pair of blue earrings. It was such a good day in community with Ugandans. Our trip home was yet again another interesting taxi experience. We sat in the first row of seats in the taxi. They make these folding down seats that are attached to the other seats. It is an effective way they cram more people into one taxi. We had the folding seat which is extremely uncomfortable. Bosco was sititng in my lap sleeping. Next to me was a rather large woman and next to her was another woman. In that woman’s lap was the giant stand to a old singer sewing machine (the kinds that you press the peddle with your foot aka not electric). She was taking up a lot of the seat. The larger woman was practically cuddling with me. At my feet was the actual sewing machine. All of sudden a chicken starts making screaming noises and the woman next to me pulls it out from under my seat. Having chickens in taxis has become pretty normal for me. The man behind me is holding the back of my seat and rubbing my back. All I could in this situation was laugh out loud. .It was one of those moments where you stop and think “I can’t believe this is my life and this all seems completely normal”. When you cram anywhere from 16 to 30 (yes I have been in a taxi with 30 people) things seem to get interesting.

Tuesday was the day we had planned to meet up with Bosco’s siblings in Jinja. We decided to grab a taxi on the road. Taxis tend to present interesting situations. In Uganda it is illegal to fill a taxi on the road. They have to pay to get into the taxi park and many would rather risk filling the taxi on the main streets. The company who owns the taxi park pays people to stand on the roads and try to stop taxi drivers from filling up there. I mean physically stop them. They run along side taxis and try to grab the key out of the ignition or have spears and slash the tires as the taxis drive by. When you grab a taxi on the side of the road you have to really hurry to get in them because the taxi regulators start running down the road at the taxi. A taxi pulled over to pick us up. First Hiral, Musana’s manager, jumped in. Then Bosco and I followed him trying to get him to hurry. The moment I had fully stepped into the taxi, the conductor slammed the door and they took off driving. Leaving Andrea and a short term volunteer standing on the side of the road. I literally flew from the front of the taxi to the back seat the moment the driver stepped on the gas. Hiral was yelling at the driver in Lusoga and I was checking on Bosco. Our taxi flipped around and grabbed our friends. It was quite the taxi experience. But I wouldn’t expect anything less out of Uganda. We meet Bosco’s siblings on Main Street. During lunch the four of them chatted the entire time. Comparing shoes and asking about what each others lives were like. Unfortunately Bosco could not go to stay with them because Heidi had a meeting with the probation officer about her ministry. But we introduced Bosco to cinnamon rolls. It might have been one of the best cinnamon rolls I have ever had. Just thinking about it makes me want one again!


It has been raining everyday here. I am concerned what the rainy season will be like if this is the dry season. Also, I am pretty sure Rasta has a monkey boyfriend. She disappears every night and comes back in the morning. I am a little concerned about her bad behavior. We might need to start tying her up again!

Today Bosco and I are going to visit some of our kids who are staying with guardians near our home. He is really excited to see them again.

eat.pray.love.

8.13.09
I have been doing a lot of thinking about my life. Coming to Africa so many people tell me all about how I am selfless. How I am willing to give up so much to help these people. But I struggle to allow myself to classify this as selflessness. I mean, being here is exactly where I want to be but sometimes I feel like it is letting me off the hook of so many responsibilities I have. If I wasn’t here I would be at home leaving for college. But being here meant I had more time to figure out what I want to do with my life. I don’t know if this is even making much sense. My blog might be turning into my personal therapy session that I allow the world to read. It seems like I am just masking my selfishness with a seemingly selfless passion. It’s the albatross around my neck that no one seems to notice except me. Is being here a manifestation of my inability to commit to something. My own personal way of running from decisions. It seems silly to think that to get away from what I perceive to be hard I run to Africa. Africa is one of the only places that feels like home, but it is far from a vacation. I feel like a lot of the time it is more about me and less about who I am helping and what I am doing. Again, I am reminded that these kids teach me more about myself and love than I could ever do on my own.

I’ve talked about patience a lot while being here. The fast paced American lifestyle I have become so accustomed to be nonexistent in Ugandan culture. The other day I found myself sitting in a matatu (taxi) sweating as if I was in a sauna. When taking public transport in Uganda you first have to go to the taxi park and sit in the taxi waiting for it to fill. They cram 14 people into the taxis. It is very crowded! Depending on when you are getting to the taxi park it can take anywhere from 5 to 45 minutes to fill the taxi. It didn’t seem to bother me on this particular day at the atrocious rate our taxi filled. Forty-five minutes passed and I hardly noticed. Once the taxi headed to Jinja was filled we set out on our forty-five minute drive. After about twenty minutes our taxi began to fill with smoke and we drifted to the shoulder of the highway and came to a stop. All 15 of us, two little girls shared the tiny seat next to me, climbed out of the smoldering hot taxi and stood on the side of the road. At the point it is clear that something is seriously wrong with our taxi. Everyone is screaming at each other in Lusoga in Luganda. Semi trucks carrying exports were whizzing by on their way to neighboring East African countries. But I didn’t seem to notice we have been standing outside the taxi for twenty minutes. I was talking to the little girls who had been practically sitting on my lap for the entire ride. Eventually and empty taxi pulled over and we all hopped in. Around two hours later I finally reached Jinja. My ability to wait has increased tremendously.

Two nights ago I slept in the dorms with the girls. It was a really hard night but worth every second. Before we went to bed all the girls set on my bed and we talked for hours. The older girls asked all about my family and what home is like. They loved hearing stories about my siblings. Our girls love to tell me that I am beautiful. They never let me forget that they think that. Jucienta, a beautiful 13 year old girl, decided I was there African queen. It was the best sleepover I have ever had. The next day I gave a few of the older girls pictures of me with my family. They said that I had such a beautiful family and think my mom is a goddess. But if my brothers ever come to visit I have to watch out for our girls, they think my brothers are really handsome! Although the time before bed was enough to overshadow any of the challenges that sleeping in the dorms bring, it was quite the night. Due to security reasons, the kids are locking inside the doors and can’t leave in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. So they keep a bucket in the room that the kids pee in during the night. It happened to be at the end of my bed. There is a group of thirteen year old girls that keep Musana virtually self-sufficient. They help in the kitchen, wash all the laundry, take care of the younger kids, clean the dorms and serve as parents to many of the kids. One of the older girls, Rebecca, had her sick little brother Peter staying in our dorm. Poor Peter was so sick. He spent the night throwing up and having diarrhea in a bucket in the corner. It was kind of hard to sleep through. Even still, I am excited for our next sleepover!

When I got to Musana the paper beads were a mess. And I frankly had no idea what I was doing. It was a trial and error thing for me. Until I met a young woman named Eunice. She owns a store on Main Street in Jinja selling African crafts to tourists and volunteers. One day I went to Jinja and was asking all the store owners questions about their beads to try and learn all I could. Eunice offered to teach me how to make them. She has been an incredible resource. On Saturday night I am going to eat dinner at her house with her family. I am really excited to spend more time with her!

Today four of the volunteers left. I was very very sad to see them go. It seems weird to think about when there will be no short-term volunteers left. Last night we had a party for the people who left. Our kids loved getting sodas and eating our goat, bobby. I might just become vegetarian by the time I leave.

Tomorrow our kids go home to stay with guardians for 3 weeks. After those 3 lonely weeks they come back and start the new term of school. I am going to miss them a lot!

Pictures!

1The kids watching me write a blog!

2School near Musana

3 Bosco, Peter and Andrew playing on a "see-saw" (listed from left to right)

Ugandan Cell Phone!

Want to call me? My Ugandan cell phone number is 256783703757. If you get an international calling card at a grocery store it is cheaper than just calling with your phone plan! I would love to hear from you! But keep in mind, I am 9 hours ahead of Denver.
Much Love!

Hairy Lemon

8.4.09
On Sunday we spent the night on an Island called Hairy Lemon. The island was named after a pub in Ireland that the owners meet at. Hairy Lemon is extremely hard to get to. To get to the island, first we had to travel 45 minutes to Jinja. From Jinja town we took bodas to an area just outside of Jinja. Next we needed to find a “special”, also called a private hire car, and travel another 45 minutes to the Nile. But for some reason we could not find a special. After talking with boda drivers and discovering they were going to charge us 20,000 shillings each (10 US dollars) we chose to try and hitch a ride. We rode in the back of an old pick up truck for only 6,500 shillings ($3.25). The ride was defiantly only worth $3.25. The roads were bumpy and our driver drove very very slow. Although the ride was worth it, Hairy Lemon was well needed relaxation. We spent the day lying on the shores of the Nile. The water was cool and clear. It was a nice escape from the day to day chaos. I thrive on that chaos but occasionally it can be draining. After our small night away, we began the trek home. After crossing the river in a small rickety boat we found bodas. Somehow the boda drivers convinced us that the 45 minute drive on a dirt road would be better on bodas. Very wrong! Even in Kampala, where 5 people a day die in boda accidents, I have not been as afraid as I was during this ride. Our drivers cut down the time from a hour long ride into Jinja town to a thirty minute ride. It was terriflying. By the time we got to town our faces were red and we had white circles around our eyes where sunglasses had been.


Today I came home from Musana early and helped our house lady, Rayhema, cook. Before tonight I didn’t think she spoke English. But she actually spoke a lot of English. We had so much fun together. The language barrier tends to be intensified when trying to work in the kitchen together. I learned so much about Rayhema and her childhood. Growing up both her parents died and she left Mbale to live in Iganga with her aunt. When she was living in Mbale she had a monkey just like Rasta. Our last house girl was very afraid of Rasta but Rayhema loves her. I know I can leave for the weekend and she will be taken care of. Rayhema is only 19 years old. Since she doesn’t have parents she had to drop out of school to work so she can go back. During the time we were cooking together a huge rain storm started. It was so much fun to be stuck in the kitchen with her. We made Irish( potatoes), beans, rice, greens ( fried greens with tomatoes and onions). It was very yummy and I can now prepare a Ugandan meal!

Home Again, Home Again!

7.29.09
Today in Kampala my friend Elisa and I were on a boda and our driver was talking about Americans. He said that he liked them more than Europeans because they try and adapt to African culture more. But was the generalization of Europeans and American culture correct? He continued by telling us that Germans were the worst because they had no desire to be with Africans. Whizzing through the streets of Kampala I had a huge realization: seemingly harmless generalizations turn into segregations which manifests into discrimination that has occasionally erupted into genocide. The Rwandan genocide originated around cows. When we as humanity find our differences to be flaws we lose the diversity and unfortunately sometimes we also lose our humanity in pursuit of cleansing.

Although I loved Rwanda, getting to Rwanda was very hard. We had to take a greyhound type bus nine hours from Kampala to Kigali. But before that we had a three hour taxi ride to Kampala. On our way to Kigali we left on a one am bus ride.

Since the roads in Africa are littered with deep pot holes and sometimes are not paved, the journey is very very bumpy. On the way back to Kampala we sat in the last row of the bus. Apparently children can ride the bus for free if they sit in your lap or on the ground. The back row had six seats. My three friends and I occupied four of the seats. Two Ugandan women sat next to us. They also had a baby and twp children. Somehow we managed to fit seven or eight people in six seats. At one point the children on the ground puked in a bag and they may have pied in it too.

As I have mentioned before I am learning patience above all else. It has been very interesting for me to watch the people around me. Some volunteers are very calm with Ugandans and the situations that arise. While some are the complete opposite. Andrea, our director has more patience than anyone. She knows how to handle the situations as well. Americans tend to raise their voices to show frustration but this really bothers Ugandans and tends to escalate the situation. I am learning how to deal with all types of people.

I’ve had a few medical issues. I get severe lower abdominal and back pain. I went to Kigali’s hospital and IHK in Kampala. In Kigali they thought it was cysts on my kidneys but after an ultra sound in Kampala they have no idea. More tests soon. Hope I am okay!

Also we just got 5 new kids:) iam so excited!

Rwandan Adventures

7.28.09
Yesterday was an interesting day. We traveled 3 hours to a memorial in the south The memorial was the site of a mass killing. Over 50,000 people were slaughtered there. They had been seeking refuge in a school. The Hutu militia used knifes machetes, clubs, guns and blunt weapons to kill men, women and children. The bodies of the victims were in 48 classrooms. They preserved the bodies with lime and left them where they were killed. While the rest of the 50,000 victims were laid to rest in a mass grave. It brought to life just how brutal the genocide of Tutsi had been. There were rooms of bodies, skulls and bones.

What is extremely interesting is just how the conflict all began. Rwanda was colonized by Belgians. The Belgians in charge divided Rwandans by how many cows they had. More than ten were Tutsi and less than ten were Hutu. The majority of Rwanda’s population was Hutu. It was very similar to what the Nazis did. Tutsi were also the ones in high positions of government. The Belgians made studies showing that Tutis was superior to Hutu. When Rwanda gained its independence the Hutu rose up. Soon discrimination against the Tutsi occurred and shortly after that, genocide. The Kigali genocide museum had stories from Hutus that hide Tutsis in their homes. The Rwandan genocide was brutal. No one was spared.

French Bakeries

7.26.09
We just got to Rwanda! This country is beautiful. Kigali, the capital, is a winding maze of steep streets. The air is cool and quiet. I don’t even feel like I am in Africa right now. Unlike Ugandans, many Rwandans don’t speak a lot of their local language. In Uganda they speak Luganda or Lusoga, but in Rwanda they speak French. We were buying croissants in a bakery and for a few brief moments it seemed we were actually in France. The people are friendly and the word “Muzungu” is not screamed at us constantly. It seems almost unreal to think that not long ago this country was ravaged by genocide.

We are going to genocide museums tomorrow and another one the next day. I am really excited to be here!

Flip Flop Tanlines

7.21.09

This weekend we are setting out for Rwanda. I am really excited to see more of East Africa. On Saturday we are going to Kampala (Uganda’s capital) and getting on a one am bus ride. We will spend the new few days running around Rwanda’s capital and seeing genocide museums. I have been told that Rwanda has seen tremendous restoration since the genocides in the 90’s.

 

Tomorrow we are taking all of our kids to an agricultural fair in Jinja. They are so excited for a field trip. Since I know absolutely nothing about farming and farm animals, at least I think that is what agriculture is, it should be interesting for me as well. I guess I will find out tomorrow. On Saturday, before we leave for Kampala, the kids are having a big soccer tournament. Soccer is one of the boys’ favorite things to do. We have a few Americans who work with Ugandan Village Project that have been teaching our kids soccer.

 

Right now, as I am typing this, I have eleven of our kids sitting around watching. Some of our other children are playing soccer. Dave Matthews’s music is playing on my laptop. A little boy named Ema is sitting on my lap. I don’t think my life could get any better than it is right now in this moment. I believe that life is simply space with moments in between that are the only things we remember. I must make the most of the moments when time seems to simply stop. When nothing else around seems to matter except what is happening right then. In the end, it is these moments that I will look back on and see that everything was with it. The pain and suffering was worth it. It will all be worth it.

 

 

After the kids noticed that Ema’s name was in my blog they all wanted their names in it. Sitting next to me is Bosco, Angel, Sedic, Peter and Solomon. That made them all very excited. 

Goats, Cows and Monkeys. Oh my!

7.8.09

Imagine fifty-two beautiful Ugandan children screaming in excitement just at the sight of you. Today that became a reality for Andrea Pauline, our executive director. I have never seen a group of children so excited for one person. It was like they had won the lottery. The profound impact Andrea has had on each and every child blew me away.

 

In the alchemist, the book I mentioned earlier, the shepherd main character gives up everything in pursuit of his treasure. He has a dream about a treasure in Egypt at the pyramids. The young shepherd meets a king who tells him that when you are destined to do something the whole universe works with you to fulfill it. The boy leaves his fields in Spain in attempt to find his treasure. The alchemist really inspires me to look at what I am doing and take it all in. Leave my frustrations and love people right where they are. In the midst of the brokenness here I must be a light. And even if they throw rocks or yell at me, I will keep loving them. The shepherd finds himself in Morocco where he meets a boy who offers to serve as his guide in the Sahara Desert. But he steals the shepherd’s money and leaves him. While in Morocco, the shepherd decides to work in a glass shop. He improves the business and it flourishes. What appeared to be a curse turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I have to trust that the adversity I face has a purpose as well.

 

I have been working on the art room and I am really excited with what will be happening with that.  I will post pictures as soon as it is finished.

 

Our kids have been learning volleyball from one of our staff boys. They competed in two tournaments in Iganga and won! Now they get to go play representing Iganda District Schools. Both our boys and girls teams will be traveling to Western Uganda (almost in the DRC) and competed. I might be going to chaperone. Should be a lot of fun! I really hope our kids do well. The competitions last for a week long and start on Sunday. Musana got a trophy for winning and the kids were very excited.

 

On the weekends we have been traveling a lot. We might be going to Rwanda in two weeks. I am really excited to see more of Africa. Also we really want to go to Kenya, Ethiopia, Tanzania and Zanzibar.

 All my love!

 

Bermuda Blue Paint and Salamanders

7.03.09
Yesterday was a big day. We celebrated Canada day with our very own Canadian volunteer who arrived. And I painted the craft room (which has been my recent undertaking). Well actually, I didn't get to paint the art room that much. Our maintenance man, Santongo, refused to let me do very much of it and told me that I was too slow. But during the part I did a giant salamander jumped off a window ledge and landed on the paint roller. Welcome to Africa. Today I got to organize all the art supplies into shelves. Morris, our Ugandan director, is ordering tables for the room. I am extremely excited to start teaching art in the new room. Self expression is important for children to work through grief and pain. I hope and pray it is uplifting for the kids. If you have any craft ideas I would love to hear them! And I will post pictures of the room soon!

Other than that nothing else has really been going on! I am eating a lot of pineapple and mango, which I really love. I honestly couldn’t be happier.

Thanks for your support!

Lemon Heads

6.30.09
Because you are my family and friends who have supported me through all my adventures, I feel like honesty is the best route. I am extremely frustrated with certain aspects of living in a very foreign land. In my previous blog I addressed some of this frustration.

I have never been the target of racism until yesterday. While walking home from Musana a little boy ran up and hit me with a stick and yelled “vieyo mzungu” (go away white person). I pray for patience and understanding. The children at Musana are incredible. Each and every one of them is respectful and kind. They regularly serve us lunch and bring tea to the volunteers. My heart sunk when I saw myself grow bitter towards the children I see on my walk everyday. And then it hit me. The actions of one person can impact someone’s view on that entire group of people. Was I going to let a few people negatively shape my view of a country that I love? Later that day I had to walk home carrying our pet monkey, Rasta. The entire walk home I had around 30 children who were pulling my hair, grabbing at me, pulling Rasta’s rope, and trying to take Rasta from me. All the noise and commotion scared Rasta. When Rasta gets scared she tends to bite on her rope, but with the kids holding the rope she resorted to biting me. My hand was bleeding and I was on the verge of tears. I had been yelling at the children saying “vieyo” and “waylaba” (go away and goodbye) but they still would not leave me alone. When I got home they were banging on our gate. I was so angry at them that I could not even say hello this morning. But with my anger towards them also come anger towards myself. My desire is not to be bitter towards a group of people that I love, but to show them love even in the hardest situations. I will not allow the actions of others to determine mine.

Last weekend I went to Kampala to visit an organization that I worked for last year. I was extremely excited to see a little boy named Kevin who I had bonded with the previous year. After I had left he gave a note for me to another volunteer. The note broke my heart. He told me that he missed and loved me. As we were driving to the orphanage my heart ached. What if he didn’t remember me? Some of the kids develop anger towards a volunteer that they had been close with after they leave them. I was worried that would be Kevin and I. Earlier that day, during my taxi ride to Kampala, my friend Susie called me. After I was done telling her how excited I was to see Kevin she said “Annie, there is something I need to tell you”. My heart skipped a beat. Was this Susie telling me that Kevin didn’t remember me? Instead she told me that Kevin had recognized her and was asking about me each time she had seen him. During what seemed like the longest car ride to the orphanage ever, I worried if he would recognize me with my new brown hair (which by the way is rapidly lighting due to the sun, I have highlights now). Our van pulled into the gates of the kids home. I could see Kevin watching us arrive and looking to see if I was there. The moment I saw him, his face light up. He had not forgotten me at all. When we had to leave both Kevin and I were crying. I told him that I love him and kissed his forehead goodbye. As our van pulled out we cried and waved goodbye. It was incredibly hard to say goodbye. But I know I will have other opportunities to see him while I am here. If only I was older and could adopt him! Kevin reminds me so much of my friend Adam from home. They are around the same age and act very similar!

Well that’s all for now!
Want to send me reeses? Or lemon heads? I would love you forever and ever!

Sending love from Africa,
Annie

Roll. Varnish. String.

6.24.09

Everywhere I go I stand out. Mzungu is a word I have become very accustomed to hear every few seconds. It can be translated to “white person”. The vast majority of the time it is not an insult or a racial slur. They are simply showing their excitement for your presence. Although my patience wears thin. We walk a great deal everyday. And I have to greet almost every person to walk by. It has been a huge test to my patience. Sometimes I just want to blend in. but I cannot control my skin color which inhibits me from blending in at all. Although I do love the small children who walk with me home. When they see me coming their faces light up and they scream mzungu. They run up and either grab my hand or bongo (pound it). For the majority of the one and a half mile walk to and from Musana I have company.

When Andrea, our director, gets here on July 7 I get to start the craft room. But until then I have been working on the paper bead project. It was a mess when I got to it. To make paper beads first you have to cut strips of colored paper and then roll them into a bead. But most Ugandans roll them around a needle but our kids just roll them. This creates an issue when there is not a hole to string them. But before you can make necklaces you must first varnish the beads. Varnishing is the most unpleasant step in this process. The varnish leaves your hands, and anything else that comes in contact with it, extremely sticky. After the beads are dipped in varnish, they hang to dry. It takes around two days to dry. Once the beads are dry they are cut off and strung. My favorite part of the process is stringing the beads. It is a lot of fun to make patterns and pick beads out. If you are interested in getting a paper bead necklace talk to my mother!

Monkey Bites and Mosquito Bites

6.19.09

Posted at a later date:

I can not sleep. For some reason I go to bed extremely early and wake up very very early. Right now it is 5:30. I have such a restless sprit. The American way of life is much faster paced than the Ugandan. I always struggle to adjust. Today we were trying to decide if it was patience  that drives Ugandans to perform tasks more slowly and be willing to wait for hours. Or is there no patience at all and it is simply a cultural thing. I am being taught to slow down my life and enjoy each moment in its utter simplicity.

 

 

As I sit here and write this I am attempting to not itch the multitude of mosquito bites I have acquired. Although I am a little more concerned with the monkey bite on my hand.. Did I mention we have a pet monkey named Rasta. He was being abused on the street and our Ugandan director, Morris, bought him. Rasta normally behaves himself and is very sweet, but today we took him to the orphanage and the kids scared him. He took his anger out on me. Let’s hope he doesn’t have any diseases! My bet was that I would get malaria, not some infection from a monkey bite. But I have officially cuddled with a monkey. It seems worth it.

 

We are working to clear and clean a room for me to transform into an art room. I am very excited. If you have any mural suggestions let me know! I am brainstorming how I want it to look. Soon I will begin teaching art with the kids and working on developing new crafts to be sold. I can’t wait to do that! Once we begin making new things I will explain and post pictures!

The Alchemist

6.18.09

Posted at a later date:

I am happier beyond any words I can put on paper. Nothing can describe how I feel. More than anything I just wish you could be here to see this. Right now I am reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelno which deeply discusses purpose. Purpose has been a reoccurring theme in my life. At one point he says “we all need to be aware of our personal calling... God’s blessing. It is the oath that God chose for you here on earth.” And he also says “to realize one’s destiny is a person’s only obligation”.

 

I have no doubts that I am exactly where I was meant to be. Almost every person that I am close with has a far different purpose and path than I do. This breeds doubt in what I am doing. My culture has told me that once I graduate I have to attend college right away, get a job, find a husband and settle down. But I honestly don’t believe my life will ever be normal.

 

But here is what we have been doing…

My flight got in at around 8 in the morning. Two Ugandans picked me up and we ran a lot of errands around Kampala (Uganda’s capital). I was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. It seemed like the longest day of my life. But I had a lot of fun with Morris and some other Ugandans. We then went to Jinja and picked up some volunteers from another orphanage. I had been told that next we were going to the volunteer house. Due to my extreme exhaustion I feel asleep during the drive there. When I woke up I opened my eyes to see the orphanage before me. All the children were waiting for me. I was excited but overwhelmed. My energy level was nonexistent. A small girl was holding a sign that said “We love you Annie”. The children swarmed around me, grabbing at my hands and hugging my legs. There voices rang out " you are most welcome". And for the first time since last year I felt at home again. 

London Loneliness

6.16.09

Posted at a later date:

Right now I am sitting alone in London. Everywhere around me I hear strange languages and see unfamiliar faces. Being completely alone this time has forced me to realize certain things about human beings. We have a strong desire to be known. Even if it is just by the British woman sitting next to me at an airport restaurant or the Indian man who was inquiring about the “free the daliet” sticker that adorns the back of my laptop. Humanity drives each of us to long companionship. Which is why on an airplane the tendency is to indroduce yourself when you sit down. The desire to start up pleasant conversation does not steam from extreme interest in who they are, but the unexplainable need to share who you are. As I am writing this, a young European girl approached me and asked what type of phone I had. She then struck up conversation with me. And I was pleasantly surprised to have found someone interested in my life.

 

 

Well you came to read about Africa… not my random airport observations. But, sadly, I am not there yet. More to come!

All my love,

Annie

 

 

Support Letter

Family and Friends,

There comes this moment in all of our lives where we suddenly realize that we were all created for a purpose. Many of us don’t experience this until late in our lives. This “purpose” is what we live for. I praise God that at such a young age I have already found my purpose.  

From the moment I stepped off that plane in Uganda I knew that the Lord had put me here for a reason. God was continually appearing in the faces of the children I held. I knew He was with me. And with few reminders of the comforts at home, I had to cling to Him.

My first trip to Uganda was incredibly trying upon my faith. I was working with extremely legalistic Christians who taught me more about myself and God than any Sunday school or church sermon. I learned a lot about my desire for a genuine faith. If it wasn’t going to be real than it wasn’t worth my time. My mentor always tells me that I am searching for a radical faith and I won’t settle for anything less. So we’re back to that issue of purpose. For the first time in my life I know why I’m doing this. God has placed a very special place in my heart for the people of Uganda. And I know that my purpose has a deep root in Uganda. 

My second trip to Uganda was less about myself and more about the people. My heart broke for the children I taught in the slums and rejoiced while praising the Lord with orphans. I worked for Come Let’s Dance, an organization working to create self sustainability. While there I visited an orphanage on Busi Island in the middle of Lake Victoria. Without anyone telling them to, the children gathered and began worshipping God. I have never seen such a fire for God in children so young. At around 4 in the morning I woke up to what sounded like tribal dancing and singing. At first I was afraid but I soon recognized the songs as praise songs. Before the sun had even risen they were worshipping God. God showed me the tremendous faith of the African people. Even in the most broken situations redemption shined through. I met a woman named Shakira who had once been a prostitute. Through her contact with Come Let’s Dance she started a micro business selling food. Now she is living for Jesus and sharing the gospel with her neighbors. On my last day in Uganda, Shakira and I sat in her tiny home and she prayed for me. One of her small children was sitting in my lap and the other was playing on the floor. We held hands and cried together. Shakira prayed for restoration in my life and thanked God that he had brought me to Uganda. The Lord showed me about having faith through even the toughest trials.

This year I have felt a calling to stay much longer than I have before. I will be working as the creative director for an organization called Musana. I am leaving in mid June and will come home around July of the following year. While in Uganda I will be teaching art and working with the children. I strongly believe in the redemptive qualities that art has to offer. The self expression alone is extremely important to growing minds, but also the freedom that comes from allowing yourself to create.

But this wouldn’t be possible without prayer and financial support. I’m inviting you to join us on this adventure! Uganda presents the most spiritual warfare I have ever seen. Your prayers are extremely important. I want to thank you for supporting me on my other adventures. God is doing incredible things in Uganda and I can’t wait to tell you all about it. Due to the length of my stay in Uganda fundraising is a little different this year. If you feel called to contribute, I ask that you pledge to give a certain amount monthly or a one time donation. God has called me to physically go and help the poor, but he has also called people to be the support base of the others. Knowing that my family and friends support what I am doing keeps me going. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.