Beautiful Christmas!

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart with be also." Matthew 6:19-21.

The past week has been... well, insane, to say the least. I was supposed to fly out of London last Sunday (19 December) but apparently if the city gets 3 inches of snow, the airport completely shuts down. Being from Minnesota, where it's a light winter if we get 3 FEET of snow, I was unimpressed. Naturally, I worried that I wouldn't make it home in time for Christmas, and was pretty frustrated at all the chaos.

We tried to make the most of our time there, which turned out to be fun actually. We jumped on beds; we ate out at nice restaurants, splurging occasionally on red wine to accompany our meal; and we got out into the city to see the musical Wicked, which was absolutely fantastic! So, I can't really complain about being stranded on an island for four days, but I was wishing the entire time to just be home with my beautiful sisters for Christmas day.

Well, miracle of miracles (and it truly is a miracle), I flew home on Thursday! From London to Germany to Chicago to Minneapolis I flew, ecstatic and joyful the entire time. And here I am, home with my mom and my sisters and our dog and cats. Home.

We discussed how, upon re-integrating into life at home in America, culture shock would be quite probable, coming from Africa for four months. I expected it and tried to prepare myself for it, which perhaps was slightly successful. But honestly, I'm coming back into America while the entire country is obsessed with a list of things they "want" or even "need," and it really has been culture shock.

Brothers and Sisters, who cares if your Christmas shopping isn't done. The water you use just to shower every day would give life to the 884 million people in the world who do not have access to sanitary water (1/8 of the world's population). For the 1.9 billion children living and growing up in the developing world (mainly South Asia and Sub-Saharan Africa), 1 in 3 of them are without adequate shelter.

But they still smile and laugh and play. They take wooden blocks and make them into cell phones. They find old car tires and wheel them around. They come across a broken down wheelbarrow, and now they have their very own vehicle. They draw in the dirt and play soccer with deflated soccer balls.

That's more than I can say I did when I was a kid. At age 6, I wanted to draw pictures with markers in EVERY color that Crayola offered. At age 9, I wanted that mini-car that actually drove around the cul-de-sac (my neighbor had one and I was jealous). At age 12, if my soccer ball lost a little air, it was time for a new one. At age 16, I wanted that phone that could take pictures and video and cost $100. And I still do it. I go to the mall, and I want a new dress (even though I have plenty of cute ones in my closet) or a new pair of shoes (even though I'm currently wearing shoes). And this is all after I've SEEN children with no clothes. Little girls with nothing to cover themselves. Little boys with bloody gashes on their feet because they have no shoes. This is all after I've seen babies on the verge of death because they don't get proper nutrition.

America. We have everything at our disposal, and oh, how good we are at disposing of things. We use what we want right when we want it, and we get rid of it when we're finished with it.

Take a step back this Christmas. Enjoy giving gifts, and be merry, but think for a moment about just how blessed we are. You can look out your window at the beautiful snow-covered trees, or you can look into your childrens' smiling eyes and healthy faces, and you can see the infinite beauty of God's majesty. You are breathing. Living. You are a gift. You are such a gift. As are those children and families living with nothing in the third world.

It's time we realize that WE are often the answer to our own prayers. We are change. We have the means to restore the lives of the broken; to feed the starving, to hug the orphan, to house the widow. It begins with eager hearts and educated minds. It begins with you and with me. It might sound crazy, but what if we started a revolution this Christmas season? What if we didn't give in to the materialism (including the after-Christmas sales) and we created a beautiful change for another person?

Merry Christmas, Readers. I hope it's a beautiful one for you. Love is still winning, and hope is still here, and change is not only coming... it's happening. Let's go.

(To read facts and stats I've used, click here http://www.globalissues.org/article/26/poverty-facts-and-stats).

Let Justice Roll.

This is Betty. She's fourteen years old and weighs 25 pounds. She has severe CP and a big overbite, so it's really hard for her to eat, which could potentially partially explain her malnutrition. The good news is... she's currently living at the Serving His Children house in Jinja, Uganda (www.servinghischildreninuganda.blogspot.com). She's getting the nutrition she needs to grow, and she smiles and laughs. I fell in love with her just during the two and a half days I was there... I can't wait to see pictures of her when she's bigger and stronger!

This is Joellia. She's seven years old and, like Betty, weighs 25 pounds. She doesn't walk or talk or look you in the eye when you talk to her... but just six months ago, she was healthy and attending school. She's also living at the SHC house in Jinja, getting proper nutrition and care. Since she arrived there, her rigid little body has relaxed a bit. She's still holding on to life. I don't know how, but she is.

How does this happen? Why is malnutrition and starvation a problem in our world? Don't we know better than to let this continue? Praise the Lord that these two girls are getting what they need. What can we do to fight this?

I don't really even know what to say in this blog. I can't write about it eloquently, and I can't make it seem okay. I can't hide my anger or my frustration at this injustice.

I'm leaving Uganda today, but what I've seen and heard (in Jinja as well as in the north) will stick with me. I'm going home because I have to learn more... about malnutrition, about trafficking, about what I can do. Then I'll be back.

See you soon...

Home.

I think twelve days is the longest I've gone without writing to you... I'm sorry, readers. Sorry, Mom. Today is a good day to write, though, because throughout the day today, I think I felt every emotion on the emotional spectrum.

The morning began normal enough; the clouds out my hut window a beautiful bed of pinks and oranges, coaxing the golden sun to wake up and warm the earth. I can't help but smile each morning as I pull my long sleeve tee over my head and stumble out the door to breathe the fresh crisp air.

December sixth. I didn't think it would come this fast. I remember back in September when I moved here and met all the kids. Back in September. Wow. Mama Rose told me that their school term ends in early December and then they'd be going back to their home villages. It seemed like so far away, and really it was. But here it is, and although I awoke this morning and smiled at the sunrise, I secretly dreaded getting out of bed; dreaded admitting that today really is the sixth of December already.

Still slightly groggy from dreaming, I walked towards the four houses where our 67 beautiful children live. "Good moooorning, Brynn!" I hear from Mercy House. "Good morning, Solomon," I wave back. He looks so sharp in his blue checkered button-up shirt and his clean shaven head. He comes to hug me, and notices the heart he drew on my arm yesterday. It's faded from my shower last night, and he looks concerned.
"Can I fix it?"
"Of course," I respond.
"Okay, you wait," he says over his shoulder as he runs inside his home. Shortly after he comes out and puts a small white heart-shaped piece of paper into the palm of my hand. I smile. This heart will last much longer than one drawn on my arm.

I walk over and Love House and find Faida, Abedkwene, and Ayaa eating breakfast. Their smiles are probably enough to make the sun shine for days, and although I'm so happy to see them, I feel tears welling up in my eyes. Do they really have to go? Janet comes out the door, and immediately says, "Don't cry."
"Janet, I will try. But when you say that I just want to cry more!"
She looks about to cry now too, but Solomon saves the day with his silly joking, "Okay, you cry! You cry! .... No but don't really..."

How I will miss these children, my brothers and sisters.

Finally, all 67 kids pile into three fifteen-seater vans. (This is Africa, folks). Hugging and saying goodbye to them all was draining enough; now we just have to wait and stare at them all until the drivers are ready to start their engines. (Again, this is Africa). Each minute seemed to cling for dear life to the one before it, so all the minutes bled together and the hour seemed like an eternity. It's not that I was ready for them to leave... it's that I had convinced myself they were leaving, and then they kept still being there.

Eventually, of course, the vans pulled away, little brown arms waving goodbye and beloved voices shouting "amari!" which means I love you. I love them, too. I hope they know it. My last image was Clinton's hand, and then the van turned the corner.

Suddenly, the compound felt like just that: a compound. No longer was it a home full of laughter and energy; now it was simply a compound, empty and doomed to wait patiently for "home" to return.

Drained and sad, I walked to the church and sat in the window, allowing tears to flow. I thought about how much I missed them already. I thought about how they don't want to return to their home villages, because some of them don't even have guardians to care for them. Many of them are going back to an empty hut; a place of hardship and bad memories. Then I realized I can't focus on that. I just spent three months with 67 amazing human beings! How blessed I am. How thankful I am that I was able to spend enough time with these kids to actually BE friends with them! They taught me better than to be sad at their departure. They taught me joy and peace, despite sadness and tribulation. They're living proof that God truly cares for and provides for his children. I have nothing to be sad about... I have everything in the world to be happy about.

I realized today, more than ever, that home isn't necessarily just a place. I've called this village home for the past three and a half months, but it's not simply the village that is home... it's the kids. My brothers and sisters; my friends. Home is also in Minneapolis, and I'm so excited to hug my mom and my dad and my sisters when I get there. Home is also in Milwaukee, and I have so many wonderful friends to look forward to there as well. Home will soon be in Spain, where my host mother Mercedes waits for my arrival.

Home isn't just a place. Home is where you can give love, and have love, and be loved. What a beautiful gift to embrace home where you are. To love. These kids taught me so much. I'll miss them incredibly.

Nairobi!

Last Tuesday we took a bus down to Kampala and then hopped on an overnight bus to Nairobi, Kenya! Our Ugandan visas were about to expire, and after much asking around, we concluded that the easiest way to extend a visa is to leave the country and then come back in! So we decided to make a mini-vacation of it.

We got to Nairobi around 5:30am, exhausted and groggy. We met a wonderful lady named Norah on our bus, and she helped us SO much by making sure we were safe and that our lodge shuttle arrived! We're thankful for her.

The place we stayed was called Heart Lodge, and it was overwhelmingly beautiful and comfortable! Hot showers and clean floors! It even had little bushes in the shapes of hearts...


How cute.

So, I'll divide this Kenya trip into days! Here we go!

Day 1 (17 November):

Unfortunately, Collin wasn't feeling well so he just stayed at the lodge and slept all day... which is probably best. So, me, Suzie, Leilah, and Erin were taken by our taxi driver to a huge mall... it definitely rivaled the nicest malls that I've seen in America. Talk about culture shock... what a world of difference from the mud huts we've grown accustomed to. The food court probably had every type of cuisine you could ever want, and the mall had multiple levels full of stores and banks and kiosks. We didn't stay long- just enough time to exchange some money, buy an issue of Newsweek magazine, and eat some hummus and pita!

After the mall, we took the cab to the giraffe feeding center! Probably one of the most tourist-y things I've ever done while traveling, honestly. But it was so fun! We fed giraffes right out of our hands and enjoyed a Stoney afterwards... my favorite African soda. It's like a spicy ginger ale!


It was a pretty great day and we slept SUPER well that night.

Day 2 (18 November):

Collin was much better, and we were happy to be back together as a team again. Breakfast at the lodge was the best thing about Kenya, I think. Seriously. Scrambled eggs, crepes, WHOLE WHEAT TOAST!, and fresh fruit! We felt like kings and queens. While eating, we met a couple, Pat and Don, staying at Heart Lodge as well. We learned that they regularly travel to Kenya, and spend their time there building libraries and doing work in various communities getting clean water. Very cool. We asked them for tips on what we could do in the city on a low budget, and after thinking for a few minutes, they offered to let us use their hired van for the day! They also basically made our itinerary for us for the day.

First, we went to see a ministry called WEEP. They're located in Kibera, the largest slum in East Africa.

WEEP takes in women who are HIV+ and teaches them life skills, like sewing and bead work. Many of these women are shunned in the community in Kibera... for instance, one woman, Lillian, was forced out of the home that she lived in with her brother. When he learned of her HIV status, he locked the door and said he wanted her and her child gone for good. She ended up on the streets, begging. Neighbors wouldn't even give her water because they fear people with HIV. Thankfully she found WEEP... now, she is healthy because she is taking the ARV pills, and she knows how to sew! She is making an income that is supporting her and her child. The people in the community no longer look at her differently because you can't even tell she's sick. Incredible.
This is Gladys on the left, the woman who started WEEP and cares for the women who come. On the right is Evelin, a woman who has been with WEEP for two years now (since the start). She's full of joy and life, and tells her story without hesitation. They're standing at a table full of crafts (necklaces, bracelets, rings, skirts, tablecloths) that the WEEP women made!

WEEP is great because it gives the women a community to share stories and tears and laughter. They all understand what it's like to be outcasts, and they all understand the feeling immense joy when they are accepted as they walk around Kibera.

After visiting Kibera, we went to a game reserve and had another tourist adventure... a safari walk! Really it was kind of just a glorified zoo... we walked on a raised walkway and looked at animals who were in cages. It was a beautiful landscape though, and we enjoyed just hanging out and walking around.

For dinner, we went to the Trattoria at the suggestion of Pat and Don. It was some of the best Italian food I've ever had! Maybe I'm just deprived of a variety of flavors and textures, but seriously... it was definitely a highlight of the Kenya vacation. I even got mint chocolate chip gelato for dessert! What a treat!

Day 3 (19 November):

We went to a park in downtown Nairobi and just hung out all day before leaving. Sitting the park was nice and very relaxing... we walked to a nearby grocery store and got bread and cheese and carrots. The perfect picnic!

After eating, we explored the city a little bit. We got ice cream and had no trouble finishing off the entire tub...

Then, we headed to the bus station (braved the worst traffic jams I've ever seen), and were headed home to Uganda.

All-in-all, it was a great vacation! We enjoyed our time but were so happy to be back home with the kids. Hugging them all when we got back was wonderful... I'm going to miss them so much.

Look forward to another potential photo blog coming soon... we're going to celebrate Thanksgiving as best we can tomorrow, so I'll be sure to tell you all about it.

Thanks for reading! I love you all. -Brynn

Today.

"Morning by morning, new mercies I see."

I want that to be my song each day when I awake.
How beautiful is the promise of each new day!
I am not promised tomorrow, but I woke up today.

I have today.

What a blessing it is that I can see shapes and colors.
The green blades of grass, tall and slender.
The wispy white clouds against the perfectly blue sky.
The streams of golden light as the sun gets higher and higher.
The tiny drops of dew on every leaf.
The blue-bellied bird pecking the dark brown soil.

What a blessing it is that I can hear the sounds that morning brings.
Kids chattering away, or singing as they go about their chores.
Ravens cawing from high perches.
Little birds chirping back and forth.
The neighbor's cows mooing.
Empty jerrycans thumping together.
That low buzz that tells me the world is waking up.

Today I will praise Your name for every little thing I see or hear or do, because without You, I wouldn't have today.

Today I will love others above myself and serve without wanting return.

Today I will thank You as I walk, because I You have given me legs that work.

Today I will smile in the good times, and when I'm sad, I will cry and ask for Your comfort.

Today I'll tell people that I love them, because I don't say that often enough.

Today I will listen when people talk and make time for conversation.

Today I will be productive, but I'll also make time for play and rest.

Thank You for today.
Thank You for waking me up this morning.

Morning by morning, new mercies I see.

Amen.

Not For Sale

"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men [and women] do nothing." -Edmund Burke

The horrors I'm learning about...

Twenty-seven million slaves exist in our world today.

I don't know about you, but the word "slave" makes me a little bit uncomfortable. Slavery doesn't exist any more, I'd like to think. Abraham Lincoln signed the papers 160 years ago, and slavery become illegal. There are no more slaves...

But there are. There are sex slaves. There are slaves forced to fight and kill. There are slaves forced to work long hours for a wage far below the legal minimum. There are slaves trafficked across international borders to a country where they don't know anyone and can't speak the language. Slaves who are told that if they try to escape, they will be found, and they will suffer.

People bought by other people. People "owned" by other people.

That makes me even more uncomfortable. That makes me mad.

Slavery today is much much different than it was 160 years ago... back then, slaves were a long-term investment. Slave owners had a reason to keep the slave alive. I'm not saying conditions were any better for slaves then than they are for slaves now, but slaves today are disposable. Once a slave exhausts his or her usefulness, a slave owner can easily get another one at no great expense. There's no reason to treat them well, honestly.

In Cambodia alone, there are currently 30,000 children exploited in the sex trade. And that's just one small country. What have we done about this?

The kids I'm spending time with every day here in Uganda were also abducted to be slaves. Eighty percent of the LRA ranks are child abductees; boys forced to smash their own brother's head with an ax, or girls starved to death by their rebel leader until they give in and have sex with him. And what do we do?

Nothing. We do nothing. What if it was your own child, stolen from your home and forced to perform unimaginable "duties"? What if it was your own child, starving and crying and cold? What if it was your own child dying?

"To say that the poor have rights means to accept that street children hold the exact same value as our own children. Our society is not yet ready to affirm this truth." -Lucy Borja

Again I ask, what have we done about this injustice? We haven't even tried to learn about it, because it's uncomfortable.

Well, perhaps if the abductors were stealing oil rather than children, the world would pay more attention.

It's foolish to assume that this is only taking place in third-world countries like Cambodia and Uganda. Yes, the majority of trafficked people come from impoverished places, but did you know that 75% of all New York apparel-manufacturing firms are sweatshops, using forced labor or paying workers below minimum wage? Foreigners are trafficked to the United States from at least 35 countries.

I had no idea. I can honestly say I didn't know the statistics were that high. But now that I know, I promise you and I promise those slaves that I'll be doing my research before I buy my clothes next time.

Slavery could be taking place in a hotel you stayed in last month, or the nail salon you went to last week, or in the karaoke bar you drove past last night. I wouldn't be surprised. And now it's a whole lot closer than you thought, and now you could reasonably do something about it because it's close to home. I said it last blog post and I'll say it again... we must refuse to accept a world where one individual can be held the property of another.

It's much easier to ignore the injustices in the world than it is to take a stand. To take a stand would mean making some sacrificial personal choices. But I encourage you to try. The pursuit of justice inevitably creates a social legacy.

I am mad about this right now. I apologize if this post sounds judgmental. I'm mad about injustice, especially when we can do something about it... especially when I can do something about it. I just read a book called "Not for Sale: The Return of the Global Slave Trade- and How We Can Fight It" by David Batstone. As the title suggests, it brings to light much about what is currently going on in the world in regards to trafficking. It's where I got the information I just wrote about. I can't stop thinking about it, and about what we can do.

I'm so thankful that all of this will pass away one day. Broken political systems, inequality, nationality, slavery, all of it. Love will win the end. Why don't we act like it?

A different normal.

I realized recently that our days here are dwindling. It's November already... how did that happen?

Sometimes it feels like I'm going to go back home after a long glorified summer vacation. I'll get a new haircut and start school in the fall, and the weather will gradually get colder, and my friends will have stories of late summer nights and sipping lemonade by pool sides and summer flings, but overall not much will have changed and life will go back to the normal routine.

Then I look at the calendar I sketched into the pages of my notebook. It's November 3rd.

In a way, I will be returning home after a long glorified summer vacation. Its hot here... that's like summer. But I'll step off the plane and the biting winter temperatures will surely snap me out of summer mode. The stories I hear will be about sleepless homework-filled nights, and sipping hot cocoa around a fireplace, and the lack of social life that everyone has endured, and everything will have changed, and I won't go back to the normal routine.

I can't go back the normal routine. Maybe that's a better way of putting it. I can't, and I won't.

I can't go back to the normal routine because of Prossy. I can't spend money the way I did, because Prossy needs a sponsor to go to secondary school. She is just finishing up primary school, and she will begin secondary in February if she has the funds. Secondary school costs more than primary school by a fair amount. If she doesn't have the funds, it's likely that she will get married within the next couple years, because it's easier and then her guardian doesn't have to support her any longer. She's twelve years old. She wants to be a lawyer. What if I gave up buying new clothes every so often so that Prossy can go to secondary school? What if we all sacrificed money so that these children can have bright futures?

I can't go back to the normal routine because of Gloria. She's taught me to laugh at everything. To find joy in each day. To do something when bored. This girl is sassy but so easy to get along with; she simply loves life. Small annoyances or things that frustrate me each day are so petty, and I want to learn to look past them to see beauty and joy in everything. How can I go back to the normal routine after meeting Gloria, who sings louder, climbs trees higher, and smiles bigger than anyone?

I can't go back to normal routine because of Norbert. Rebel soldiers came to this boy's home when he was around eight years old. They forced him to kill his parents, cut them into pieces, boil them over a fire, and eat them. Norbert's story is unbelievable and makes your heart drop to your stomach, but now, it's a story of resilience and healing... today, even though he is shy, he plays and is a kid again. He smiles and laughs. He is gentle and loving. Remembering Norbert's story convinces me to come back to Africa. There are twenty-seven million slaves in our world today. This includes the Ugandan child soldiers forced to fight. I can't go back to the normal routine, because stories like Norbert's can't happen anymore. We MUST refuse to accept a world where a person is held as the "property" of another person, forced to do unthinkable things.



I can't go back to the normal routine because of baby Esther. When she sprints into my arms after I haven't seen her for two days, the entire world melts away and that's all that matters. This baby girl's mother, like Prossy, was extremely intelligent and passed her primary school exams with flying colors. Because she didn't have enough money for secondary school, she was married at age fifteen to a man much older. She's happy and finds joy in life, but wants her daughter to be able to go to school. She wants to give baby Esther the opportunity she didn't have. In my normal routine, I never thought about situations like this. It was easier to ignore injustice when it didn't have a face. But now injustice could be Esther being married in 14 years, simply because she doesn't have school fees. I can't go back to the normal routine and not think about this. I must do what I can to change this, not only for Esther, but for children in Milwaukee as well.

My time here in Africa is not just a long glorified summer vacation. In these four months, I'm living a lifetime of stories and hugs and smiles and tears. And when I go home, my routine can't be what was normal. Normal has to be different. Maybe we can do it together, all of us. Maybe we can make a different normal... one where poor children can go to school. One where adults and kids alike can find joy in the simple things and laugh simply because life is good. Maybe it's idealistic, but I am convinced, after being here and seeing these kids, that it's completely realistic. Let's try.

Autumn in Uganda

Lately, the gorgeously painted African sunrises and sunsets have brought with them cool breezes that nip at my skin when I’m wearing short sleeves and cold rains that drive me inside the decently sturdy (albeit termite-infested) walls of the mud hut I call home. I fall asleep at night curled up like a little girl under my blanket, and I awake in the morning to put on my red hooded sweatshirt, avoiding the chills that last until the sun climbs high into the sky. The leaves on two of the trees by the church have begun to turn yellow near the top, a sight I didn’t think out of place until I remembered where I am. “Yellow leaves. That either means too much rain, or not enough nutrients in the soil,” is the news I heard this morning. “The two obviously go hand-in-hand.” It has been raining a lot lately. It doesn’t bother me, though. The rain means we get to eat dinner inside the kitchen, where the stoves burn charcoal to keep us warm. It means I get to slip and slide on muddy ground with twenty laughing African children, falling again and again until our skin all looks the same color.

The cool mornings and evenings, the yellow nutrient-lacking leaves, and the rainy days remind me of autumn back home. I miss crunching through fallen leaves on long evening walks, I miss apple-picking, and I miss wearing three layers just in case, because you never know if it will be hot-ish or cold-ish outside. I wouldn’t trade being here for anything, though. I’ll have autumn next year, but I’ll only have this moment in Africa right now. And maybe God’s just giving me a little gift by reminding me of autumn at home; something to make me feel more at home here. And I do. I do feel so at home here.

It’s hard to sit down and write about what life is like in a village in Uganda. I think because a lot of living here just feels normal, like the yellow leaves on the tree. Normal until I remember where I am again. I suppose life is hard in a lot of ways, and I could write paragraphs about how long it took to build calluses on my hands so they wouldn’t bleed when I hand-wash my laundry, or about how no matter how many seasonings you experiment with, rice and beans always tastes the same when you eat them every day, twice. But truly, what sticks with me is the beautiful simplicity of it all. My clothes drying on the clothesline in the hot, hot sun, or the way the occasional avocado makes my meal taste like it just came from the kitchen of Uganda’s top gourmet chef. The kids are astonishingly joyful despite their horrific pasts, and they really ask nothing of us before giving all their love. I feel their love in an overly enthusiastic two-handed wave from across the schoolyard, or in the hundreds of times a day a kid requests, “Brynn, you come eat dinner at my home tonight” with pleading and hopeful eyes.

Sometimes they break my heart, though. When they share that their parents died in the war, or when I see the scars covering their legs, or when they tell me that they sleep with the lights on because they fear the dark, it’s easy to get overwhelmed and feel hopeless. But it’s not hopeless. The love they offer us proves that they’re moving forward, getting past the pain and sorrow.

When I look back on life here, I want to remember the little funny and joyful things that happen each day. Feeling like it’s autumn is one such thing. Waving to a kid across the grass is another. Hearing a kid sing happy birthday to me (when my birthday is four months away) is another. Teaching English and learning Acholi is another. Playing in the rain and getting covered with mud is another. Seeing those big brown eyes smiling up towards my face is yet another.

These are the things I never ever want to forget about Uganda.

Love House

I’ve been much more intentional lately about hanging out at the kids’ houses and getting to know the house moms and the kids better. The first two houses are called Love and Hope, and they house 17 and 16 girls, respectively. The second two houses are called Grace and Mercy, and they each house 17 boys I believe. Last Saturday, I slept over at Love House. The girls were SO excited to have me there. I slept in a twin size bunk bed (top bunk of three!) with one of my very favorite girls here— Aweko Faida (pictured above).

When I was in Uganda in May-June 2009, I met Faida and connected with her, but she barely knew English and her eyes and face just seemed sad and burdened. This year when I saw her again, I knew right away that she had come so far since last year. Her eyes were bright and she smiled a lot. She’s not as skinny as last year; she looks healthy and nourished. When I went up to talk with her, I discovered that she now can speak a good amount of English, and now that I’ve been here for so long, I realize that she’s better at English than many of the kids who are older than her even! Faida is such a great testament of how effective Village of Hope is for the kids here.

Anyways… so I slept in Faida’s bed with her, and even though I didn’t get a great night of sleep (Faida is apparently a bed-hog and a blanket-hog, and half the night was spent with her leg sprawled over me!) I still loved it so much. Before we turned the light off, one of the girls in the room, Lillian, looked up at me and said, “Brynn… tell us a story… about education!” I laughed, and told them about how we have 12 grades, and then university. I told them that I am in university and explained that I am studying International Communications and that I hope to create peace across cultures. They loved it. Then I asked if any of them had stories about education, and Lillian and Faida both told stories about how their parents died because of the war, and they lived with only their older siblings (none of whom were older than 12 years) for a while. They had no clothes, no shoes, no food, and no money for school fees. Then, they said, Mama Rose signed them up with Village of Hope, and they got to go to school and they got clothes and food. They both ended by saying, “So I just thank God now, for Village of Hope and for Mama Rose and Mama Cindy so that I can go to school.” It was so great. Then we all fell asleep, and when we woke up in the morning, they begged me not to go.

Even though it was tiring, it was really great to just build relationships with all the girls that night. It felt so great to know that it made them feel so special that I had a sleepover with them. I’m so glad my time here in Uganda is only half over; it means I can only get to know these kids better! I am hoping to interview Faida for the documentary because she is such a story of hope. As I said before, hope is here. Change is happening... fast.

THANKS FOR READING! I may post another blog today with some pictures... I hope to, at least.

Brynn

Nothing Super Profound...

Well it's a been awhile since I've blogged... for a few reasons.

1. It was just our sixth week, which is allegedly the break down week. And I would say that's true.

2. I have really been loving the village life, and I have less and less desire to be on the internet during my days.

3. Our internet has been kind of sketchy.

4. I haven't had anything extremely profound to say. But I am learning a lot. I just don't know how to say it all!

You guys, I could live here.

I could live in a hut in the middle of nowhere and build up a village with some Africans.

I wouldn't be mad about it. I would love it.

Kind of scary. Kind of exciting...

Soon, I will post a photo blog! I promise!!

I Ate a Termite Queen!

Believe it! Here's proof!
Click on the images to make them bigger, if you wish.

Step 1: Destroy the termite mound!

Step 2: Find the queen in that mess. She's hidden in a clump of dirt packed VERY hard... so hard that even the Africans have to use an ax to break it!

Step 3: Break the dirt clump, get the Queen. Some termite mounds have multiple queens!

Step 4: Get a good look at your feast. What a nice abdomen, huh?

Step 5: Wrap her up in a nice green leaf.

Step 6: Roast her over a fire or directly in a fire by some embers, whichever you have easier access to at the time. Let her roast for about 10-15 minutes.

Step 7: Take a bite while she's still hot! During this step, it's nice to hold a good friend's hand for support. Suzie and I thankfully had each other.

All in all, it actually wasn't bad. The texture is like warm string cheese, and the flavor is kind of nutty. The worst part is mental!

THE END!

Three Interviews

I have a basic idea of what I want to do for the intro of the documentary! And I'm really excited about it. So today, we started getting the sound we need for it.

We interviewed three of the Ugandan staff here at Village of Hope, individually. We hooked a microphone to their shirt, but didn't use the camera, because their words will simply be used as a voice over. First, I asked them to explain the history of the war to me. Then, I asked them how it affected the people of Northern Uganda and also how it affected them personally. Then, I asked them if there is hope for Uganda. Then, I asked them if Village of Hope is bringing hope and is truly helping.

The first was one of the construction workers here. First, he told us about the IDP (Internally Displaced People, aka Refugee) Camps and how they were necessary for the safety of the people... but also how they weren't too safe because the government soldiers who were supposed to "protect" the people often raped the girls and women or would steal food from them. Then he told us that many people have moved out of the camps now and gone back to their homelands so they can farm, but because none of the centers around their home villages are built up at all, education and health care have not been good at all. Many kids can't go to school because they don't have the funds or school is too far. And many people who are sick or pregnant can't get to health centers fast enough because there is little transportation and the health centers are far away. He said many people who are trying to get to a health center just die on the road.

The second interview was harder than the first. He lived in the African bush from 1990 until 2007. Literally did not sleep at home at all, for fear that the rebels would attack his home and abduct or kill him and his siblings. He said that throughout that whole time he would hear news that (in his words) "five people died there," and "eleven people died this other side," all around him. He said that sometimes, the rebels would force 25 people into one hut and then burn it. That's how his grandmother died. His father died of TB. His older brother died as a soldier in the war. His friend was abducted and killed. Then he said, "I can't tell any more stories."

The third interview was hard as well, and possibly the most informative about the war. She went to an all girls school, and one night, 20 girls were abducted from the showers. She was in the dormitory, so she didn't get abducted, but she was so scared and was hiding the whole time. Of the 20 girls who were abducted, three have survived and returned. One of the girls who returned told her about a girl she went to school with who was abducted. Because she was so beautiful, the rebel leaders all wanted her to be their wife, so they cut her into pieces and so they each got a piece of her. They forced all the schoolgirls to watch, and told them that if they cry or express anything besides laughter, they would kill them the same way.

Hearing things like that is unreal. It’s impossible, even while hearing a firsthand account, to fathom that things like that actually happened, and are happening. I’m really happy we got those stories recorded, because that’s the type of thing people need to hear so they will understand that help is needed. Every single interviewee said (even without being prompted) that Village of Hope is helping so much because these kids otherwise have no hope and no one can care for them. It was perfect content for a documentary about VOH.

Our purpose here is being accomplished, little by little. Keep praying that it will continue to be. Daily.

Love, love, love. All of you!

Trusting. A lot.

Each day, I am more humbled by the Ugandan children here at Village of Hope. For starters, they are more diligent than any kids I’ve ever met. They are literally busy (whether it’s chores or school) from 7:00 in the morning until 10:00 at night, with the exception of an hour here for lunch and an hour and a half there for play and then showers. Each day, I wake up at 6:30 to them all singing praises to God… thanking him for food, for education, for life, for hope. And they truly sing like they mean it. It’s a beautiful sound to wake up to. They love learning—Math, English, Science, Social Studies. They work hard because they understand, even at age 11, that knowledge is so vital if they want to succeed. They all love each other so much. I haven’t seen any evidence of cliques or anyone being left out, and they all share clothes with each other. Granted, they have much fewer clothing than we’re used to in the US, but still… we’re taught so early that our things are OURS and that sharing is good, but you get to decide what you want to share, in a sense. These kids don’t have that mentality at all. They share everything. Everything is everybody’s.

Today at church, the kids were praying. Hearing them all pray is another thing that just humbles me even more… it’s so real and so raw. Today they prayed for you. For Americans. They thanked the Lord for the blessings they have received because of American donors, and recognized that they would still be in the refugee camps if people in the US hadn’t donated their resources to Village of Hope. If that isn’t amazing enough, they then prayed that those people who have donated to VOH would be blessed for it. That they would have even more because they chose to give. How humbling is that?

I’m learning so much. What is wealth? Is it material, or is it relational? After watching these kids interact with one another, I would argue that true wealth in this world must be relational. That material possession literally is nothing. That’s something I’m really learning right now… to let go of my material possessions. That nothing I own is truly mine, and nothing I own is going to last anyways. I think that many American Christians (including myself) have for so long been so blind to how materialistic we are. We’re taught that our stuff is a blessing. But what if our material possessions are actually hindering us from realizing the message that Jesus taught? Everything he ever preached tells us to love the orphans, the widows, the needy, the sick, the oppressed, the unwanted, and the hurting. Are we blinded to what is going on in the world because we’re so focused on our possessions? My stuff… and that’s all it is—stuff—will never be a blessing until I realize that God has blessed me with excess not so that I can HAVE more, but so that I can GIVE more.

Having a faith in Christ does not mean greater material blessings or prosperity in this world. I know I’ve said this so much… but I’ll say it until it changes… how can we read Jesus’ command in Mark 10 to sell everything and give it to the poor and then just sit back and watch, as 26,000 children die daily of starvation or preventable diseases? Or maybe it’s because we don’t watch. We turn the other way. We don’t know their names, so they are easy to ignore.

But they are here. They’re here in Uganda, they’re scattered across Africa. They’re in India, in El Salvador, and in the Philippines. They’re even in the USA. And they have names, and they smile and they laugh and they cry and they get hungry and they get full, and they run and jump and skip and play hide and seek, and they think and dream and they hope for a future.

“Our perspective on our possessions radically changes when we open our eyes to the needs of the world around us. When we have the courage to look in the faces of brothers and sisters whose bodies are malnourished and whose brains are deformed because they have no food, Christ will change our desires and we will long to sacrifice our resources for the glory of his name among them.” –David Platt

And that’s just it… we have what we have in order to bless those who don’t have anything. And the purpose of that isn’t simply to satisfy a need or fill a belly. Because honestly, those truly are short-term needs. The purpose of providing for the needs of the poor is to glorify the name of God. Sounds selfish… but whom else would we praise? If you believe there is a God, why wouldn’t you praise him? I truly would like to know.

“There is never going to come a day when I stand before God and he looks at me and says, “I wish you would have kept more for yourself.” I’m confident that God will take care of me. When God tells us to give extravagantly, we can trust him to do the same in our lives… Do we trust him?” –again, David Platt.

I’m scared, thinking about all of this. It’s scary to imagine giving up what I’ve always been comfortable with for a life where I truly rely daily on God’s provision. And I think it might be a slow process. Learning what the balance is and applying it. Trusting.

But I have to. I can’t look at Fida and Gloria and Cosmas and Prossy and Clinton and then go home and live in affluence. Because now some of those 26,000 children dying of preventable causes have faces, and they have names. And they are relying on me. And they are praising the Lord that he is using people like me to provide their needs. That’s insane.

Village!

I don't really know what to blog... it's sometimes hard to know what to write, because SO much happens and so much of it is just... normal. So sometimes it seems like maybe what I write will be boring, or sometimes there's just so much I don't know where to start in my writing. But each week, I have to write for school, so I can get my 3 credits for this adventure. So, here's what I wrote for school this week, I hope you find it interesting. I want to write another update about what I'm learning spiritually, but maybe I can do that this weekend or something. We'll see.

Last Saturday, my team and I transferred from Gulu town to the Village of Hope land, which is located in the Masindi district, two hours south of Gulu district. We were all very ready to start fresh and have a change of scenery!

When we arrived, I sat down with Mike and Janelle, the career missionaries who live at VOH and oversee everything that is going on here. We talked for a long time about what life is like for them, what their job is with VOH, struggles and challenges they have, and also what me and my team can focus on while we’re here. We discussed my team member Suzie working with the nurse at VOH because Suzie is going to school to become a nurse. We discussed Leilah working with the social worker at VOH and learning how counseling works here, as well as setting up a system to keep records and a history of each kid’s counseling sessions. Tom will get involved with the construction crew because he is strong and wants to do some physical labor. Erin, our graphic designer and all around artist, will paint the VOH logo on the main office building and teach guitar lessons to a few interested kids. Collin will help Janelle with much-needed computer help and also do sound with me, of course. And when I need to film and edit, there will be ample time for that. As a team, we will teach English to each class at the VOH Primary School on Mondays and Tuesdays. We will also have reading time to work on comprehension with the kids here. Meeting with them and talking about what the next three months will look like was very exciting and affirming for me.

First, it affirmed me as leader of the team and trip. By meeting with me individually before talking with the team, Mike and Janelle affirmed my leadership and allowed me to process things before presenting it to the team. When I did tell the team about each separate project, they were so excited, and I encouraged them to take their ideas and run with them, while working with their respective Ugandan staff partners. Today, Leilah met with Ronance, the social worker, and they came up with a counseling form for the kids. Suzie met with Maureen, the nurse, and learned about all her equipment and how to say it in Acholi. Each team member truly is opening up and getting excited about how they can use their individual passions while being here in Uganda, and as a leader, that’s so great to see!

I feel like my life dreams are definitely developing and deepening. This is now the third time I’ve been in Africa— my first trip was to South Africa for four weeks, and my second was to Uganda for five weeks. Now, I’m four weeks in to a four-month-long trip, and it’s amazing. I can’t imagine being ready to leave in one week. I hope that one day I could potentially live in Africa long-term, and I’m getting a good sense of what that might look like. Granted, I still have three months to go, so who knows how I’ll feel in another four weeks… but I’m ready for it. I’m healthy, happy, and feel right at home. I think I could see myself doing this type of work forever. I don’t think my life and career will be what a typical young woman my age envisions… and I’m okay with that.

God is good. Thanks for reading, all.

Pursue Justice

This kind of goes with my last post... maybe with my last few posts. So be sure to read those too...

This is what I'm currently learning and processing.

Christians (in America) often don’t live like Christians. Like REAL Christians, like Paul and Peter and James. Christians in America (including myself) still pursue the “American Dream” … which is comfortable, but not anywhere near where Christ’s heart is. I am reading this book right now that has some great points… “We are molding Jesus into our image. He is beginning to look a lot like us because, after all, that is whom we are most comfortable with... with the best of intentions, we have actually turned away from Jesus. We have in many areas blindly and unknowingly embraced values and ideas that are common in our culture but are antithetical to the gospel Jesus taught… Here we stand amid an American dream dominated by self-advancement, self-esteem, and self-sufficiency, by individualism, materialism, and universalism… we are settling for a Christianity that revolves around catering to ourselves when the central message of Christianity is actually about abandoning ourselves.” (that’s from a lot of different pages that I wrote quotes down from… from the book “Radical” by David Platt. PLEASE read it, it’s so good… I think I like it better than Shane Claiborne’s “The Irresistible Revolution” even, simply because it references the Bible all over).

That’s essentially what I’m currently in the process of learning. How to TRULY abandon myself and rely on faith. We are so comfortable with having Plan B… for instance, if I became dreadfully ill all of a sudden right this second and I was about to die, a plane would come get me and bring me to a hospital and I’d be fine, because of health insurance. It’s almost like, “Ok God, I’ll pray about this now, but if you don’t answer fast enough or how I want you to, I’ve got a back-up plan on the way!” And I’m not saying health insurance is bad. That’s just my example to kind of explain how we, as Americans, simply don’t NEED to live by faith. Because we have no needs. Here in Uganda, they understand faith so much more, simply because they’re constantly faced with sickness, death, and loss. Very early on, they’re forced to realize that they’re human and very finite. Realizing that allows one to truly experience that God is a Provider. That he is a Comforter. I recently wrote in my journal… “is the American limitation of risks actually a hindrance that makes it harder for us to experience God’s faithfulness fully?”

I will end this with this verse… James 1:27- “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”

We have no excuse not to pursue justice in this world. That's all I'm sayin.

True Story

6 September 2010

AIDS had always been just a movie to me, to be honest. Something real and something sad, but never inescapable. Something I could always fast-forward or turn off when it was too hard. Something I was always safely removed from. Just watching.
Opiyo Cosmas sat down next to me at Laroo refugee camp. His frame told me he was ten years old, but his stoic face said sixty. This boy had already seen too much.
I started asking him about his life. His favorite subject, his brothers and sisters, what he wants to be when he grows up.
Math.
One older brother, two younger sisters.
Pilot.
Quick answers, never a smile. I stopped asking questions and I waited. Slowly, his deep brown eyes shifted up towards my face, and he held my gaze for a few seconds, and he wrung his hands together.
“My father is HIV positive.”
My heart dropped, and I bit my lip. My head throbbed; I could feel every heart beat in my chest, but still I waited. His eyes shifted down to the dusty ground again, and he watched a line of ants, marching… marching…
Real life was happening, time was moving forward; the ants marched on. I was watching that movie, but this time I was in the movie, and I couldn’t fast forward or turn it off or escape, and neither could Cosmas. The ants kept time, marching to the drum beat of my heart, never missing a step, never looking back, forward… forward…
“My mother died of AIDS four years ago,” still his eyes were downcast. “My father is so weak now, he can’t get out of bed, he can’t care for us, so sometimes my aunt comes to cook.”
“And you? Your sisters? Your brother?” I asked.
“We are fine, except for Mercy, the youngest. She got it from my mother at birth, four years ago.” His eyes turned towards mine again. “She gets the pill, but she is weak, because she doesn’t get proper nutrition. Her body can’t stay healthy.”
Deep breath. Don’t choke. Don’t cry.
Dull, lifeless eyes; burdened shoulders; hurting heart.
I held his hand, and I prayed. What else can you do? When time won’t stop and you can’t pause, and you realize the movie is real life, and people are dying, and you know that something very well could be done, if people took action.

What can we do?

Hope is Real

Well, I think it’s time for an update! Today is Sunday, and we’re still in Gulu (in the north). We were supposed to go to Masindi (2 hours south; just south of the Nile) on September 1, but we started organizing the child sponsorship program for Village of Hope, and that’s taking extra long. At each of the five IDP camps we go to, we are taking individual photographs of the kids in VOH and then interviewing them. The interviews take SO long because there’s so much information to get, but we also have to leave some questions out. We can’t ask them if they were abducted by the LRA and if they are orphans until Rose can prepare them and then debrief with them after, so we’ve just been sticking with the simple questions, like favorite school subject, age and grade, and who they’re currently living with.

The other day I interviewed a four-year-old boy named Okello George Bush. His favorite hobby is hide-n-seek, he said he wants to be a driver when he grows up, and his prayer request was that someday when he’s a driver, that he’ll not get in accidents. He was adorable, and plus it’s just hilarious that his name is George Bush. There’s also a Bill Clinton somewhere in the VOH kids.

It feels really great to get this child sponsorship program rolling for VOH. Right now it just seems kind of disorganized. But after their interviews I always ask the kids if they have any prayer requests, and almost all of them ask me to pray that they will get a sponsor so that they can pay their school fees.

Last Wednesday, Collin and I woke up really early and went to Joyce’s house, on the outskirts of Labora IDP camp. We filmed her entire day doing her normal tasks. Here’s a quick run-down… she woke up, did dishes, went to the garden and weeded for an hour, went home and ate, got water at the well, rested for a bit, went and dug up a bunch of potatoes, washed them all, and cooked dinner for seven people. Our goal in filming this is to show that while life in the villages of Gulu isn’t necessarily bad for the kids, it certainly isn’t ideal. Their guardians (often aunts, uncles, or grandparents) aren’t typically unkind (there are some exceptions), but very rarely can they actually care for the kids. They often don’t have enough income to send the kids to school, and many of them don’t have the energy or the health to cook, clean, and wash for one to four kids other than their own children. The guardians actually WANT the kids to go the Masindi to be part of the VOH, because it means hope for the kids, especially where education is concerned.

I will try to post more updates soon! Thanks for reading, thanks for praying, I love you all!

Prossy's Poem

(please excuse the weird fonts and sizes... my blogger is being weird)!

The other day at Obiya IDP Camp (August 23), the kids recited some poems and sang songs for us. At most camps, they dance some of the Acholi traditional dances, but at Obiya, the kids are younger overall and I don’t think they know the dances well yet, so they sang instead. One 12-year-old girl named Prossy recited a poem that she wrote, and it blew my mind. Her poem begs for recognition of her rights, something I rarely, if ever, thought about at age twelve. If Prossy read her poem to her guardians (aunts/uncles/grandparents) or to her teachers, she would be labeled as a rebellious child, so I feel honored that I got to be there, and impressed that she was brave enough to recite it to us.

Yesterday (August 30), we got a chance to go back to Obiya Camp to distribute food and take photos of all the kids for Village of Hope's child sponsorship program. I asked Prossy if she would be willing to recite her poem for our video, and she smiled and said yes. Unfortunately, I’m having trouble uploading the video with blogger… if I can figure it out or find faster internet I will upload it, but for now, here are the words to her poem:

"Children Right is a Must"
by Piloya Prossy
Age 12, Class P-7
Obiya IDP Camp

All children have rights
I have a lot of rights
A right to eat
A right to trim
And they are precious to us.

All children have rights
My mother was very motherly
She used to give me food
She used to give me treatment
She was precious to me.

All children have rights
A right to go to school
And a right to talk my views
My mother could give me those
She was precious to me.

All children have rights
But let us claim my rights
My mother is no more there
She is deep in the grave
But she was precious to me.

All children have rights
Parents and teachers,
Doctors and nurses,
You all violate our rights
But they are precious to us.

All children have rights
Uncles and aunts,
Brothers and sisters,
Stop violating our rights
But they are precious to us.

All children have rights
We are talking to our fathers
We are talking to our mothers
We are talking to our aunts
Please, obey our rights.

All children have rights
Pregnant mothers, pregnant girls
Don’t dump us in the latrine
Don’t dump us in the dust bin
Our life is precious to us.

All children of Kenya
All children of Rwanda
All children of Uganda
All children of Tanzania
We all deserve our rights.

Please, please
Please, please,
Obey our rights.

The sad, sick statistical truth is that around 97% of girls in Uganda admit to being raped or abused by their teachers or guardians. Oftentimes, the school headmasters will give scholarships to girls willing to "give" something in return. This isn't okay and begs the simple question that so many comfortable people avoid... why is injustice happening? Why are people dying of HIV/AIDS, malaria, and starvation... when we have the power to do something? Why are these issues so easily overlooked? Why do we simply donate to a charitable cause and feel like we've done our part? Our part WILL NOT BE done until these kids are healthy, safe, and nourished. Until child mothers without husbands can feed themselves and their babies, and on top of that, so they can have money to continue their education and send their child to school as well. How can we claim to love Jesus and serve him and be Christians when we're not doing what the Bible so clearly states is necessary... that we are to care for the widows and the orphans-- those that have nothing.

This must be changed, and little by little... it is. Now, it must pick up speed; there is no excuse for our apathy. Hope is here, change is coming, love will win.

Isaiah 62

I am so convinced that Uganda will pull through these hard times (already it is better than it has been for the past 23 years). I believe that God's got huge plans for this country... to be a light and an example to the countries surrounding it, to raise up a generation of young Ugandans who can be leaders not only in their communities but also in the world.

The book "Girl Soldier" convinced me of this the first time, and as I read Isaiah 62 the other day, I was convinced again. I replaced the words "Zion" and "Jerusalem" with "Uganda" throughout the chapter. It also shows so clearly what my heart is for Uganda... I pray for Uganda, I won't keep silent until these people are healed. Here you go...

Isaiah 62

For Uganda's sake I will not keep silent, for Uganda's sake I will not remain quiet, till her righteousness shines out like the dawn, her salvation like a blazing torch.
The nations will see your righteousness, and all kings your glory; you will be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will bestow. You will be a crown of splendor in the Lord's hand, a royal diadem in the hand of your God.
No longer will they call you Deserted, or name your land Desolate. But you will be called Hephzibah, and your land Beulah; for the Lord will take delight in you, and your land will be married. As a young man marries a maiden, so will your sons marry you; as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you.
I have posted watchmen on your walls, O Uganda; they will never be silent day or night. You who call on the Lord, give yourselves no rest, and give him no rest till he establishes Uganda and makes her the praise of the earth.
The Lord has sworn by his right hand and by his mighty arm: "Never again will I give your grain as food for your enemies, and never again will foreigners drink the new wine for which you have toiled; but those who harvest it will eat it and praise the Lord, and those who gather the grapes will drink it in the courts of my sanctuary."

Safe in Gulu!

We are in Uganda. It’s real. I can’t believe it. I keep reminding myself that I actually am living here… for four months. I LOVE it here so much and I feel healthy and strong and so at home already.

Traveling to Uganda was… long, to say the least. We left from Chicago and flew for 8 hours to London, where we had a 12-hour layover. This flight was the first time I have EVER flown through the Chicago-O’Hare airport and not had a delay! Success. When we got to London, we put our carry-on bags in a storage room, exchanged some US dollars for pounds, and hopped on the tube for Hyde Park. We also saw Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, and Westminster Abbey, rode a double-decker bus, and overall just enjoyed the layout of the city, which was definitely NOT a grid like Milwaukee.

Being in London wiped us all out, especially because we hadn’t slept much on the plane from Chicago. When we got on the plane from London to Uganda, I passed out right away… I don’t even remember taking off.

Getting off the plane in Africa and seeing Lake Victoria was so wonderful. I felt at home. Asunta and Shammah picked us up at the airport and we hopped in the Village of Hope van. It was supposed to take us 6 hours to drive to Gulu, but with all the stops we made, it was more like 12 hours.

One stop was on the VOH land in Masindi!!!!! Last year when I was there, there were only 7 huts, and the foundations for one house and one school building. Now there are two school buildings, four homes, a kitchen, and like three bathroom buildings! I also got to see George (who calls me B2, because Bryce was B1 when we were here last year), Bosco, and Ken, all who remembered me… I was so happy. (Bryce: they miss you so much, and so does Julie)!

We finally got to Gulu last night, and we are staying in a hotel called Hotel Roma. It is SOOO much nicer than where I stayed last year… we even have our own bathrooms in each room. We feel so safe here.

Today came the moment I have been waiting for for over a year… I was FINALLY reunited with Julie, my very best Ugandan friend. I missed her so much! We walked to Gulu market and passed Kope Café… it’s so great recognizing things and kind of knowing where I am! I feel SO at home, especially because I am reunited with my family here… Julie, Rosie, Charles, Asunta. I have also made new friends- my Acholi is improving even just within one day. I hope to be fluent by October at the latest. :]

Tomorrow we are planning on going to Watoto Church and then visiting Koro Abili refugee camp. I can’t wait to see the kids and play with them. I will not be interviewing any kids individually with the video camera tomorrow, because we will go back to Abili next week, and I want to simply build relationships tomorrow. I will bring it and perhaps film them dancing and playing, though, so they can see the camera and get comfortable with it being there.

Everything is wonderful. I want to stay forever. (But don’t worry Mom and Dad… I promise I’ll come home for Christmas, at least this year).

Thanks for reading… love you all. :] Stay tuned for photographs and video clips within the next couple of weeks!

Leaving so soon!

Hey supporters... it's finally here, almost. I can't believe it... we're actually going to Uganda, FINALLY, after much planning and preparation and hoping and worrying and praying and everything else.

I have never felt more supported and encouraged in my life than in the past week. People have given me much-needed financial support, prayers have been said and written down for me to take and read, my church prayed for our team, and words of affirmation are coming from all my friends mouths. It's such a blessing; God is so good.

Being with my team the past two days has been wonderful. We have laughed and enjoyed each other's company so much. Already there have been struggles and minor setbacks, but tonight we all sat in a circle and talked and prayed. I am feeling much better after that, and I know it will only continue, because now these 5 are my brothers and sisters. We really MUST grow closer... it's our only option. I trust that each and every person is on this team for a reason, and I am so excited to see how everyone's talents and skills are used and honed while we're in Africa.

I am not scared of going to Uganda for four months. I'm not scared of language barriers. I'm not scared for my safety, I know to be careful and wary and smart. I'm not scared about fitting in. But I am a little scared... I'm scared to lead this team; I'm scared to step up when I need to; I'm scared to have that responsibility. But I know there's no other way it could happen. I have to lead. It's been so clear to me that that's a big part of what I must learn on this trip, and I am so excited about it. I want to be a humble leader, to lead out of love, and to even lead by following at times. I am scared, but I know I can do it.

I know I will come back on December 19 and be a completely different person than I am right now. I know I will learn things I never knew, do things I never thought possible, be stretched in the most uncomfortable of ways, break down when it's least convenient, step up when it's harder than ever. I know I will change, it's inevitable.

I'm so excited to become more full, more beautiful, more whole. I don't even know what to expect, but I know change will happen, and it will be so good.

The Past 3 Weeks

The past three weeks have been filled with family and friends and preparations and relaxation. I am so blessed to have the family I have. I'm so grateful for the relationship I share with each of my beautiful sisters. I'm going to miss them more than anyone, I think.

Tomorrow, I am going back to Milwaukee. I'm shooting a wedding reception on Friday, and then on Saturday and Sunday I'll just get to kick it on the east side with my friends there. I am really looking forward to seeing them and going to Epikos! There's a lot of people I want to see, and not a lot of time to see them all though.

Then on Monday, I go to Leilah's house with entire Uganda crew. Suzie, Collin, Erin, Leilah, Tom, and Me. We all get to be together for the first time ever! I think that's when it will hit me that I'm actually leaving for four months!

On Wednesday we leave for Uganda. I'm so excited. I can't even tell you how excited I am, because I don't think I really know yet. But it's that feeling where you know you're going to be exactly where you're supposed to be. Contentment, joy, peace. Plus, I get to see all my Ugandan friends again.

I'll write again soon, because I want to tell you about the war in Uganda. You should know why I'm passionate about this country specifically. Uganda is said to be the pearl of Africa. I'd say, that's true.

Things I'll Miss in Milwaukee

Believe it or not, I will miss this place. I'm overjoyed and SO ready to move abroad for the next year, but there are certainly things and people I will miss.

Unfortunately, this past week was a super busy one for me. I was packing, working a lot, and not actually seeing everyone I wanted to see or going everywhere I wanted to go. I did get a few pictures of some people and places I will miss, but there a lot left out of these snap shots. Here's what I've got though!


I will miss my house. My first ever apartment that I rented, I paid for, I kept clean (sometimes)... that I came home to each night. I'm all moved out now. Weird.

This is what I saw each night before I fell asleep and each morning when I woke up. :]

My transportation. I think it's safe to say that I couldn't have survived without this bike. Love my Bianchi. Thankfully I will still get to ride it in the next few weeks in MN.

I was so blessed this past year to have the BEST JOB ever. Everyone should check out Anaba. Going there at least once in your life really should be on your bucket list. Also, now I'm a tea snob. I really am. I'll really miss it there.

Head chef at Anaba and the best boss ever... Gregg. This is his "contemplative" face.

Heather, Emily, and Jamie. Co-workers and more importantly, friends. I'll miss everyone there. Too bad I don't have pictures of Sarah, Dani, Amy, Kyle, Adrian, Joe, or PJ. Shout out!

I will super miss biking down hills like this at 1 a.m. when there are no cars! SO SPEEDY!


This girl. Shmems. I think the photograph says it all.

How could you not miss Alterra once you've lived in Milwaukee for two years? But I'll miss this more...
ROAST. Best baristas, best iced coffee, best location, best atmosphere. I love it here so much. I can't wait to go back when I return!

I'll miss Comet! I love this restaurant! SPICY FRIES!

Kyle. One of the friends I'll miss. I was lucky enough to see him walking along Oakland Avenue a couple days before I left. I'll miss all my friends so much. I wish I had pictures of everyone!

Seriously the best Thai restaurant I've ever been to. Little hole in the wall place. Their red curry is to die for.

Mykel and Nick came to say goodbye as I was packing/cleaning my house. Thankful for them. Again, though, I wish I had photos of all my wonderful friends.

Epikos church. This place has been such a blessing! A place of fellowship, full of family and love. I love everything about Epikos and I will miss being there so much!

Fun times with my wonderful sisters! Jamie and Karley have both been SO influential in my life in the past year. Love them. I will miss them greatly!

There you have it. I could list all the other places and people I wish I had photos of, but that would just be ridiculous, let's be honest. I'm thankful for everything I've experienced these past couple years in Milwaukee! I shall return!