This will be my last blog from Uganda.
I would like to thank all the people who helped make this possible, who encouraged me, for all the wonderful people I've met, and for my faithful readers. This trip has definitely changed me. In big and small ways, the beard is one of them.

I begin my journey to London in an hour, flight leaves at 1240am, then lands at 645am-ish. Im really looking forward to my 4 days of exploring.

Don't worry I will post again. :)

one more week left... its a bittersweet feeling.

On friday, the staff at Wentz called me in for the last of their general staff meeting and surprised me with a card signed by everyone and cake as a thank you and farewell party. I couldn't help but get a little choked up when I heard them say how much of a blessing I had been to them. I didn't really know what to say other than to thank them for being patient with me when I didn't understand what the patients were saying in Lugandan and when I didn't understand what the patients were saying in English. A lot of people came up to me to say goodbye, probably not realizing that i still had one more week with them. I told them, "You'd be surprised how hard it'll be to get rid of me, I'm coming back on monday."

I told my mom about a week ago that I stumbled across 1 Corinthians 13 while I've been here. I think that it really speaks to this trip on so many levels.. I could literally fly half way across the world and help all these people, but without love, it means absolutely nothing. So yeah.. check it out. :)

Half way through the day Dr. Martin came up to me and asked if I was ready to go to Mulago. I replied yes, not really realizing that he meant right then. So I quickly got ready to go and we were on our way. We had a few stops before we went to the hospital; we met with a group to talk about installing water filters, went to a rotary club lunch meeting (at which I was introduced and greeted as an honorary guest), and drop some paperwork off at an office.

Once we arrived at Mulago, I was instantly stunned. There was a line of people around 200 feet long waiting to just get in the gate into the hospital compound, and that was just the side entrance. Dr. Martin explained that the hospital was built to hold 1500 patients, but holds anywhere from 2500 to 3000 patients at any given time, and I think that number doesn't even count the separate building/wards for HIV/AIDS patients or TB patients. Dr. Martin went to the medical school, Makere, that is affiliated with the hospital, so he was an excellent tour guide. We visited the pediatric, men's, women's, and geriatric wards, ICU, surgical ward, burn ward, ear nose and throat ward, the cancer ward, and the casualty ward (or emergency room, odd name huh?).

After a good deal of time walking around the hospital, Dr. Martin took me over to the  medical school and showed me around his old stopping grounds. We walked through some of the lecture halls, lab rooms, the pathology lab, and the cadaver dissection room (with three cadavers we "peeked at").

So my overall impression of both places were definitely a lot different than I would have expected. As far as the school goes, I guess I didn't have any expectations but it was pretty nice considering. Then for the hospital, its safe to say I won't complain about anything in the American health care system ever again. Ever. I kinda wish that I could have taken pictures, because words can't really describe some of the things I saw.

Happy Thanksgiving to all you back home. I'll miss the food. Oh, and the family too. Hahaha

Well, Im back to where I started from. Haha, I'm staying with Abby for my last two weeks here. In a way, it almost feels as if it's been forever since I've been here and in the same thought it seems like it was yesterday. As happy as I am to be back, it does mean my diet has gone back to strictly Ugandan foods, I guess I'll be all the more ready for westernized food once I'm back.

This week at Wentz, I will be working entirely on my own at the reception desk. The secretary that is usually there is taking her finals and writing papers, so it should be fun...ish. I think I remember mentioning that I was going to Mulago, the big hospital here, the original plan didn't work out. Hopefully the visit can work itself out in the next few days. 

I'm unusually tired now a days.. I don't know if its the batch of mefloquine pills, the weather, or what. But it definitely becomes worse whenever I nap during the afternoon and can't sleep at night, like last night.

12 more days left in Uganda

I know I should be smiling. It was easy to put this up because it's already my facebook picture. So this is for those of you who haven't been able to see me all this time. haha

Captain's Log, stardate 9529.1. This is the final cruise of the Starship Enterprise under my command. This ship and her history will shortly become the care of another crew. To them and their posterity will we commit our future. They will continue the voyages we have begun, and journey to all the undiscovered countries, boldly going where no man... where no *one* has gone before...

I found the quote rather fitting as I enter my last few weeks here. 

This last week I joined 300+ other people from all over Uganda and it's surrounding countries at a conference in Bethany Village. Speakers from Michigan, Idaho, California, and Canada came to share words of encouragement and teach valuable skills to the people of Africa. I'll be honest I wasn't very thrilled going into the conference, but after the fact, I'm very glad that I was able to attend. I was able to visit with some of the people that I met during my travels, met some new people, and had an overall great time. I shared one of the small houses in Bethany with Pastor Dennis (from San Francisco, funny quick witted guy), Pastor Tim (also from San Francisco, great guy, but snores louder than I thought was humanly possible), and we were joined for a few nights by two other speakers. You definitely could not have asked for a better location for a conference, everything took place outside right next to the lake. One of the few things that made this conference unlike any other was that sessions began at 6:30am. Yeah, I know. No, I didn't get up for that one. I got up with the rest of the white people for the 8'oclock session. 

This weekend has been spent just relaxing as usual. I have the main house to myself tonight while the Fage family is over at their friend's house. I will be doing the most amount of food prep that I have done since I've been in Uganda, just putting the shepherds pie in the oven for 30 mins. I think I can manage though.

Thats about it I think. As I've said before, feel free to ask questions of any kind. If you don't have an account, ask my parents to ask for you haha. 

new blog post to come tomorrow.
sorry to those who have been asking for updates, I've either been too busy or without internet to do so.

afternoon view crossing over Lake Victoria

this was written nov. 7th

This evening has been one of the best so far here in Uganda. Not for any particular reason, I just wouldn't have had it any other way. I enjoyed the mild African afternoon, I was out on the porch while the dinner of steak and chips (french fries) was cooking, as the kids enjoyed the last few hours of their weekend play time, and I just sat and enjoyed the picturesque sunset. Then after our great dinner, we just sat and enjoyed each other's company (Jez and Helen, Ross and Jenn, Calvin and Alexis, and myself).

Tomorrow starts the leadership conference over in Bethany Village, which I will be attending all five days. All that I really know is that pastors from all over the world come to speak to the pastors here in uganda. Other than that I would have assumed it might have been like any other conference. However, I was just told tonight that it is unlike any other conference you have ever been to. So, like many of my other experiences here, I will be diving in head first hoping for the best :)

I fully expect my last month here to go by the quickest. I kinda mapped out how it's gonna play out and I realized that everythings just on cruise control at this point and I'm just along to enjoy the ride. I wouldn't have it any other way.

I did all the work on this wall shown here. Taping the brick section off, painting around the corners, then rolling on the paint with a roller. Not too bad if I do say so myself.

Because of the lack of internet, I was unable to do a daily blog. So I've decided to compile the entire Mubende trip into one. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed doing it.

Saturday

I packed the night before, so saturday morning I only had to get up at the ungodly hour of 6:45. After a quick bowl of cereal I was out the door with Sam (director of Loving Hearts Baby Home) and George (an ARM employee and our driver). The three of us piled ourselves and our stuff into Jez's Land Cruiser (an awesome car by the way) for the three and a half hour drive. I knew what to expect on the drive because I had taken the route last month with the team from the US. Let's just say it didn't disappoint me with a lack of pot holes the size of the Grand Canyons, seemingly endless road construction, extremely dusty roads, and a fair share of crazy road raged drivers. We arrived at Pastor Wilson's house on schedule and were greeted by a large number of Pastor Wilson's adopted children. 

It might be a good point to explain who Pastor Wilson is for you guys..

He, most simply put, is the Billy Gram of Uganda. He has told me the following story twice now, the first time when the US team visited his house and the second time soon after I arrived saturday before he realized we had met before. He became a christian in the years of Edi Ameen when christians were persecuted. One night while having an underground bible study, the police raided the house and all who where there were arrested and imprisoned, inevitably to be executed. As they laid on the prison floor, there was no room to stand, Pastor Wilson saw all the men being taken out to be executed. He thought about all the children that would be left without fathers because of this and at that moment he asked God to let him live and if he did he would take care of children that needed to be taken care of. He was somehow let out of prison not long after that and he's been adopting and taking care of children ever since. He personally has taken in fifty-three children, but has two child sponsorship program facilities through ARM that have somewhere around five-hundred children combined. He also became a pastor after being in prison and has planted over ninety churches, most of them still up and running. I think he owns more than ten acres of land with anything from bananas to peanuts growing on them. But despite all his success, he isn't wealthy by any standards. In fact, he sometimes isn't sure where the money he needs to fix his own house will come from, this is only because all the money that he receives is almost immediately put back into his ministries. He is truly an incredible person.

Back to Saturday.. Most of the afternoon was spent being retold by Pastor Wilson about what is going on in his different ministries. I learned a few new bits of information here and there, but I let him go on just because I know how excited he is to see what he feels God is doing through Him. I was then shown my room and they let me be to unpack or whatever. I ended up laying down and unintentionally napping for two hours. Dinner was served around 8:00, which is unusually early for a Ugandan. It might have been because they figure I'm used to eating a lot earlier, so they split the difference. Despite my nap I was pretty tired so I turned in around 9:00.

Sunday

Almost all of Sunday was spent at church. I'm sure you probably realize that church is fairly long here anyway, but that sunday was the exception. I left the house with Pastor Wilson at 8:00 and I wasn't back till 4:00. We attended the general children's bible study, followed by another children's bible study broken up by age, followed by the actual church service, break for late lunch, then finished with what I think was an elder's meeting/bible study. At each of these, I was asked to come forward and introduce myself and share with the people. In the split up groups I was with the teenage kids and was asked to speak for thirty minutes about myself. It was actually easier than it sounds, I just told them five minutes worth of information then let them kill the last twenty-five with questions and answers. One of the things that all the different groups found extremely interesting/shocking/funny was that I was only 20 years old, they thought I was in my forties. Sunday ended much like saturday with dinner at 8:00 and bed soon after.

Funny side story: Right after lunch at Pastor Wilson's off church ground located office, I was greeted by what was most likely the town drunk. He was very pleasant asking my name, where I was from, how I was doing, then finally asked if I could give him money. I simply responded I didn't have any to give him. It was then his entire persona changed. He began yelling at me in Lugandan, I think he was cursing me because he spit at the ground I was standing on. I thought for sure it was about to come to blows until one of his friends, equally as drunk, came and pulled him back and they went on their way. He was the first of the many very drunk people, eleven to be precise, that I have been approached by that got hostel.

Monday

I was up and out of the house by 9:00. I got a ride on the back of Pastor Wilson's son, Simon's motorcycle to Mulette. The ride was uneventful until the dismount at Mulette, when I burnt the inside of my leg on the muffler. There was an upside and downside to this predicament. The obvious downside was that it hurt, a lot. The upside was that the mosquito bite that had bothered me the night before and that morning, which happened to be at the same spot I got burned, didn't itch anymore. 

I spent that day painting. So I did everything from taping off the brick sections, edging windows and doors, and painting the outside walls with plaster primer. Pastor Wilson was ready to leave before I was, but since he was my ride I left around 2:00. I still felt like I accomplished a good amount of work in the four hours I worked. We ran a few errands on the way back to Pastor Wilson's house. In the late afternoon, I decided to take a short walk, which turned into a "how far can I go?" walk, then when it started pouring rain it ended up being a "how fast can I get home?" walk. I was soaked by the time I got home and went straight into the shower. That evening was like the rest before and the nights after, dinner at 8:00 then in bed by 9:00. I am almost always tired by the end of the day. Whether it's because of the work during the day, or the possible dreams induced by the anti-malaria medication, or the early-ish mornings I can't really decide. I just know I'm tired and ready for bed asap.

Tuesday

I was asked the day before to help over at Jabez, a primary school directly across from Pastor Wilson's house, so I spent almost all day in the director/principle's office drawing posters for all the different classes. A few posters that I did were, means of transportation, wild animals, and dangerous items. The dangerous items poster, including items like an AK-47, a spear, a machete, and razors, was the easiest one for me to draw. This did not go unnoticed by the director/principle, she of course asked why I was able to finish this one fastest, I almost answered "Because I used to be an arms dealer" but figured the joke was in bad taste so I just laughed and shrugged my shoulders.

We were visited by Margaret that night. She was originally from the UK, came to visit Uganda, and never left.. by choice. She is involved in the local churches assisting in helping start church plants and was over that night to go over plans with Pastor. I was also able to talk some shop with her as she used to be a nurse back home. We talked about the medical situation all over Uganda, the inadequate number of staff, the lack of vital medications, and even some situations of corruptness within the hospitals.  She had dinner and left around 10:00, way past my bed time. So when she left it was straight to bed. 

Wednesday

I was again especially asked by Pastor Wilson to accompany him this day. I agreed to come with him, but it's not like I really had any other choice haha. We were picked up by Pastor's younger brother who is also a pastor, who already had an almost full van of other pastors from all over Mubende. Using my superhuman brain power and logical deduction skills, I quickly figured that wherever we were going or doing, it had to do with pastoring. A four hour car ride later, three of them on the worst roads I have yet to encounter here, we arrived at another pastor's house in a place I can't recall where with about twenty other pastors who's names I can't remember. (What happened to the superhuman brain power? I wonder the same question.) It was a pastor's meeting discussing the various activities that had happened in the various churches, planning future events, and basically encouraging each other in their work. Why we had travel four hours for an hour and a half meeting, with a half hour for lunch, only to drive four hours back.. I may never know. The drive home was quite interesting though. It had poured the entire meeting so the roads were horrible on the way back. After almost getting stuck in three sink holes, fording more than eight rivers that had spawned out of nowhere, and enduring the pot hole induced bone jarring ride, I came upon a conclusion. Driving on roads like that is like going through a drive-thru car wash back home; its very wet, you can't see anything due to overhanging trees, and you can't control where you're going. The usual dinner then bed.

Thursday

I went back to Mulette to help with the clinic again. This time I helped lay some tiles and grout the tile sections laid previously. The hired workers were surprised both days when I knew what I was doing, even more so that a white man would actually get down on his hands and knees to do manual labor alongside them. The work went by quickly then we left around 4:00 headed directly home. After a shower, I relaxed for the rest of the afternoon. I actually watched a movie that was originally in english, but was completely dubbed over in Lugandan. Now, when I say completely dubbed, I mean completely. The voices and the sound effects were completely absent whenever Lugandan was spoken, which was the whole time. What made it really funny was that the english wasn't even directly translated. The man speaking Lugandan only paraphrased, but to give him credit he did describe the sound effects that should have been there, the looks on people's faces, and giving away details of the movie just in case you were wondering if the man was actually dead after being shot fifteen times. Right before the usual dinner then bed routine, I got a call from Jez via Pastor Wilson's phone telling me that the driver wouldn't be able to pick me up as planned friday morning, instead I was to be picked up saturday morning. 

Friday

Because I was granted another day in Mubende, I decided to spend it at Kachungwa. I was picked up by Solomon on his motorcycle, we left around 1:00 in the afternoon. The ride was smooth all the way up to the last bit when the muddy conditions caused some problems. It's now safe to say that "I have been in the bush" because on one of the muddy uphill turns we both sort of tipped over into a large bush. At Kachungwa they were having a celebration for the kids moving on from P7 to their senior classes. This would be the equivalent of going into high school for us. Some of the students remembered me and the invisible juggling routine that Neal (part of the visiting team from the US) and I had done for them the month before. I also had a few others come up asking if I remembered them, some I did and some I didn't. A small handful of kids came up to me asking if I could be their sponsor too. When the celebration festivities wrapped up Solomon and I made our way back to Pastor Wilson's.

Saturday

Was uneventful. 

Hahaha but seriously, the quick breakfast, followed by the long drive, and ended with sitting poolside with the Fage family then dinner and a movie.

Overall, the trip to, in, and from Mubende was a great success. I felt like I was able to help the workers at the clinic and serve those who needed help outside of that. I really enjoyed the time I spent with Pastor Wilson as well. He is easily one of the more interesting people I've met and hearing all his stories was very enjoyable. Now that I'm back to Kampala things will start back into my usual routine of working at Wentz, which is fine. Its nice to do all the new things and experience other aspects of Africa, but it's also nice to have time to settle into a familiar schedule or routine. I've spent a lot of time thinking and realizing how fast time has been going by here. Hard to imagine that I've been  here for 53 days, coming up on two months.

Before I sit down to watch War of the Worlds,  I figured I should give a quick update.

On saturday, I will be leaving to go to the Mulette clinic, stay for 5 days, then return to Gaba on Friday. This plan is as set in stone as plans can be, but still not 100% positive on details because I don't know who will be driving me there or back, what stage of required help the clinic is at, or if the workers at the clinic know I'm coming. By this time in my stay, I've gotten used to the uncertainty, and quite frankly it's nice to not have to stress about it because I figure everything will work out one way or another. If the worst occurs, it'll just make for an interesting day and blog post the next.

I again am blessed with my clothes being washed for me. Helen has a washer though, so I guess it wouldn't be too hard for me to do it. The part that blew me away was, Martin (gate keeper/guard/handyman) not only put all the clothes out to dry, but also ironed and folded every. single. article. of my clothing. Yeah.. wow.

On a side note: Nana, we had cottage/shepherds pie for dinner tonight. While it was very good, it still wasn't quite as good as yours.

The team from the US that I traveled with did some blogging while they were here. I haven't had a chance to read all of it yet, but feel free to read keeping in mind I was there too. There's some great stuff there
http://africarenewalministries.blogspot.com/

No, I have not fallen off the map, I've just been busy and haven't found time to sit down and blog..

Well, the past week hasn't necessarily been eventful, but definitely a good one. I moved in with my new host family, Jez, Helen, Charis, Jonah, and Ethan Fage. They are originally from London, and moved to Uganda to serve God in whatever way they felt called to do, which ended up being with ARM. I'm staying in their two room guest house (separate form the main house) equipped with hot shower, electricity and wi-fi. Not necessarily "the African experience" but I'm definitely not complaining. Especially after the lovely steak dinner I had tonight.

Other than that, things are as usual.

In the next week, I will most likely be going back to Mubende to help get a clinic up and running at Mulette. Dr. Martin said that the floor needs to be redone and then all the furniture and equipment moved in and set up. I would probably stay for 4 or 5 days to help, while there I would stay with Pastor Wilson and family. Details are still being worked out, so more info to come.

If there's anything you are wondering about thats not already included in the blog feel free to ask.
Thanks for reading!

Loyce is a 4 year old Ugandan living in a slum of Kampala. Her town is filled with either small businesses, cramped one room houses, or bars. The smell throughout the town is a combination of burning garbage, sewage, and the smell of rotten fermenting fruit that will eventually be used for beverage consumption in the two or three solid blocks worth of bars. Being there any time after the sun goes down, which was most of the time I spent there, is a guaranteed three or four mosquito bites due to the abundant amounts of stagnant sewer water breeding grounds. Because I've only been there at night, most of the men of the town have been or are still drinking.  This drinking, isn't at all what could be considered "recreational drinking", its "get drunk to deal with life drinking". This leads to more people stumbling through the narrow busy streets than I could count, handfuls of people incompasitated on the side of the road, and even some completely blacked out face down in the middle of the road. It is definitely a place no one would live in if they had a choice. 

I was leaving the slum after visiting for the first time, last wednesday, with Pastor Abbe after we had gone to one of the "alters" or meeting places then to the actual church location and met some people from his congregation. Usually there would be a number of kids that would hold my hands leading me from place to place, so as we were leaving there was a usual crowd escorting myself and Pastor Abbe on our way out of the town. None of the children's face really stood out to me except one of the smallest kids. Pastor Abbe was holding her hand and talking to her most of the time, but every once in awhile she would turn back to look at me. As we began getting close to the end of the town more and more kids began to branch off in their separate ways except one, the little girl that was holding Pastor Abbe's hand. 

Eventually it was just me, Pastor Abbe, and the little girl. Pastor Abbe stopped at one point and told me that the little girl would like to meet me, which is basically the children's way of getting close enough to touch my hand or feel my skin, so I crouched down to shake her hand. She timidly shuffled her feet from next to Pastor Abbe over to me to give the customary kneeling handshake as a sign of respect and greeting. I asked her one of the few, if not only, english phrase she probably knows, "How are you?". She responded with hardly a whisper, "I'm fine". With that she placed her hand in mine and we continued on our way. 

It was probably five minutes of walking and holding this girl's hand until I decided to give her the carton of juice that I was given much earlier in the day by Pastor Abbe. I had been carrying it the whole day and honestly I didn't really want it so I figured I could kill two bird with one stone by giving her something I didn't want to carry anymore and something that she may only get to have on special occasions. When it finally came time to part ways with the girl, I asked Pastor Abbe to make sure it was okay to give her the juice and he said it was fine. I crouched down again to give this little girl the juice. She deserved it if anything, she had followed us around all afternoon and had eventually followed us well out of her way just to greet me and hold my hand for ten minutes. When Pastor Abbe translated for me assuring her that it was her juice to have, she got one of the biggest smiles on her face I have ever seen, almost as if she never had been given anything in her life. Even though we already shook hands, Pastor officially introduced us this time, "Chris, this is Loyce." 

As touching as it may seem at this point, I thought absolutely nothing of it, literally, nothing. I had forgotten all about it until yesterday. 

It had already been a long day. I drove with Abby to Entebbe to visit her daughter at her boarding school and then we were on our way back in town so that I could be dropped off with Pastor Abbe. I had a headache, I was tired, I just wanted to go home and sleep, but I had promised to come back not only to Pastor Abbe, but to the people of his church. When Pastor and I finally connected, we made our way through the slums. I figured we were headed directly to the church, not that I would be able to tell the difference amongst the endless maze-like streets and corridors, but instead we stopped at a small nondescript house. I was greeted by the mother, the eldest son, the teenage daughter, and before I knew what happened a little girl came bolting out the door and gave my leg a huge hug, it was Loyce.

I ducked into the house to take a seat with Loyce's family as Pastor Abbe translated what the mother was saying, "You are most welcome. We are so happy to have you in our house. God bless you.". Pastor Abbe told me that Loyce had told him a couple days earlier, "The juice was so sweet. I want to have the white man to my house to thank him." So there I was sitting in Loyce's house, only four days later, being thanked for a simple gift of juice as if I had saved someone's life. 

Pastor Abbe asked that I speak to the family, to tell them about myself and offer any words of encouragement, and he would translate for me. So I gave my simple speech that I have been giving in any situation such as this, "My name is Chris, I live with my mother and father, my fifteen year old brother, and my thirteen and two year old sisters, and I am in school to eventually become a doctor. I've come all the way from California to Uganda to share God's love with it's people." This is usually interrupted at this point with clapping, shouting, yelling, etc. then I continue, "But what I've found is that God's love is being given to me through the people of Uganda. So, thank you for all that you have done and are doing. God bless you." This was followed again by the clapping, shouting, and yelling. We prayed together then made our way outside so that I could take a picture for the family to see themselves. (Something that they hardly ever get to do) After saying our goodbye's Pastor Abbe and I began making our way to his church area, but before I took my first step away from the house, Loyce's little hand grabbed my hand and looked up at me with a look that said, "I'm coming with you". 

It was at this point that my heart melted for this little girl. Loyce probably never knew her father, most other adult males are out drinking every night, and while her mother loves her very much, she would have to be out selling roasted corn all day just to put food in her children's mouths. It is very possible that Loyce may never go to school, she could be destined to follow in her mother's footsteps to sell corn for the rest of her life. Not to mention the various daily health needs or risks, malaria kills hundreds of thousands of children every year. But all that she wanted at that moment was just to hold my hand. It was all I could from breaking down right then and there for that child, for little Loyce. 

For the rest of the night she didn't leave my side. Not that she had to try hard to stay there, I probably wouldn't have let her leave my side anyway. When another kid tried taking my hand from her, she almost socked him in the face. When we got to the church, she was still right at my side and got to sit up with me in the chairs in front of the rest of the church, something that all the other children wanted to do and practically fought for. During the service she kept looking up at me just to see me smile back at her. As we left the church little Loyce still remained at my side even with the other thirty kids all swarming around me. 

As we approached the outskirts of the town, all of the other kids had gone their separate ways, of course with the exception of Loyce. We stopped at Loyce's mothers corn stand to say goodbye once again. I asked Pastor Abbe to tell them I wished to come back again to visit them, and they were very happy to hear that, especially Loyce. After a big hug, I had to walk away without her. I kinda felt like I was forgetting something, even though I knew exactly what it was. 

As I recap and think about all that has happened, I'm not exactly sure how to respond to it, short of sneaking her back to the US in my carry-on. If there has ever been a time that I felt persuaded or led to sponsor a child, this would be it. Part of me says I shouldn't for financial reasons, part of me says it's really not that much money a month. I don't even know if she could be sponsored for whatever reasons. So what I'll do from here is simply pray and any additional prayer is appreciated. 

God bless Loyce

Yesterday I was able to attend Michael Kirungi's wedding. Michael is an ARM employee and was the person that I coordinated with the most in the details of this trip. I actually think that when I first met him was when he mentioned the wedding, at that time a month away, and invited me to it. So, I got dressed in the "dressiest" clothes I had, my tan shorts, a long sleeved collared shirt, and my flip flops and walked to the church. I didn't realize until halfway into the 20 minute walk that it was the hottest day I have experienced here so far. Unfortunately there aren't any taxis on this path and I didn't have the 1000 shillings (50 cents) on me for a boda-boda. By the time I arrived, I was, well, sweaty. I was at the church with 5 minutes to spare before the wedding was supposed to start, but thankfully everything is on "Ugandan time", meaning everything starts late. I chose a seat towards the back of the church, away from the middle aisle, so that I wouldn't be in all the pictures of people walking in. It was just my luck that for some reason everybody entered from the side door, completely skipping the middle aisle, right behind where I was sitting. I think it's safe to say I was in everyone's pictures at least once, thank God for picture cropping.

The wedding itself was like most weddings the vows, the songs, the sermon, what made it different for me was that I had to help with one of the visiting girls from Scotland who fainted from the heat during the wedding. I helped bring her out of the church then track down some water for her, then eventually helped their group leader escort her across the courtyard to the house where they were staying. I missed most of the sermon while helping, but was glad to be able to help.

The reception was at another location close by, The Bunga Gardens, which was a really nice place, shady and cool haha.. This was were the African weddings differed from traditional weddings. It started with the bride and groom standing before everyone to receive gifts. It seemed like everyone of the 300 people there got in line to give the newlyweds gifts. The great part was that everyone was dancing and singing while waiting in line, I'll tell you, if there was ever an ideal place to people watch, this was it hahaha. Then they served dinner which had the African staple foods. Then there was a time for people to give speeches, followed by the bride and groom giving speeches, and interestingly the bride and groom then gave gifts like separate wedding cakes to certain people that they were thankful for. Everything was wrapped up by 300 people swarming the couple to say congratulations and goodbye before they left, so we were there for awhile longer. 

Today I will be skipping church, for the morning that is, to go with Abby to visit her daughter who is in a boarding school. Abby rreeaallyy insisted that I come meet her daughter..... Anyway, then later on tonight I will be joining Pastor Abbe to meet the rest of his congregation for their sunday night service. Should be a good day :)

Pastor Abbe, he's one of the residents of the house I've been staying at, has been asking me to come visit his church and it's members for some time now, and I finally got the time to do so on tuesday. After work at Wentz, I came back to the house to meet up with Pastor Abbe. Our first stop was a visitation at Kampala International Hospital. Fred, a electrical plant worker and a member of Pastor Abbe's church, was involved in an accident and received extensive electrical fire burns on his arms and face. Pastor Abbe refers to me as Dr. Chris or doctor, all the time, and even though I've explained I'm not a doctor or technically even close to being one he still introduced me to Fred as a doctor. So, naturally Fred went on to explain everything that had happened to him, what the doctors were doing, and how he was doing. It broke my heart hearing all that he had to say, knowing that there was very little the doctors there could do. But Pastor Abbe prayed for him and that was about all we could do.

On a side note, i was able to talk to a few of the nurses and a head doctor at the hospital. While none of the employees really knew how many beds there were in the hospital it seemed like they might have had around 200 inpatients at the time. They have staff on the clock 24/7, however the specialists aren't on a usual schedule, instead they are on an on-call basis. Because it's an international hospital, there was a surprising number of non-africans there. Overall, not a bad facility considering where I am.

Next we went to what Pastor Abbe called "an alter" which was basically a meeting place away from the church location. To get to this area, we had to walk through two separate huge marketplaces, dozens of random alley ways, and actually walked in and through two homes to get to this open meeting place. Apparently he had told his church that I was coming that evening so when we arrived, there was a welcoming party of 30 women and children that sang traditional African songs for me. 

After talking through Pastor Abbe (he translated for me) for a bit, we moved on to the actual church location where I thought there would be a church. Instead it was another open section with a few rickety old benches amidst the clutter of the tiny houses. I was a again greeted by a few of the church members and leaders and spoke with them for a bit. Then went on out way home. The feeling and experience of the people I met that night was very similar to that of the other churches, welcomed, appreciated, praised, and undeserving of all of it.

Yesterday and today were typical days at Wentz, helping with whatever I could at the reception desk, the usual immunization help, and occasionally sitting in with the  doctors. Everything is back to I guess what could be considered "normal" haha..

Well, I think its safe to say that in the past ten days I have experienced almost all there is to experience here in Uganda. 

The people

have been incredible. I have never felt so appreciated, welcomed, or unworthy in my life. They have openly accepted us into their offices, their churches, and their homes. 

The places

vary from city to city.  Wether its downtown Kampala (which is the capital), or "the bush" out in Mubende each and every place has been distinct and has a special place in my heart

The churches

may have been one of the most impacting things. It has never been so apparent that, we as christians in America, are weak in faith, prayer, worship, or anything else to do within the church. To many of us are fair weather christians, that go to God when it's convenient, or when we want something. If the churches here have taught me anything it is the virtue of faithfulness.

The faithfulness

in itself needs a category. In ALL situations the christians of Uganda turn to God in faithfulness. Wether they are happy/sad, before/after they do anything, even in blessing/tragedy.

The safari

was fun as well. While it doesn't quite pertain to the whole medical mission trip thing, I think it was a great experience as part of being halfway across the world in such a beautiful place.

Like I've said before, to tell everything that has happened in the past couple days would take three or four pages of this blog. Most of the stories you'll have to come over when I'm home to hear haha.. 

As a closing thought, my first month here in Uganda is approaching and if the next two months are anything like the first, I couldn't be happier.

Had my first hot shower since I've been here, yeah.. three weeks since my last shower that had hot water.. This morning we visited Bethany Village, we met some of the kids and had a tour around the grounds. It has was by far the most beautiful ARM supported facility and location we have come across. After that we left Kampala again for the second half of our ARM supported sites road trip. We drove to Jinja today and we went to the source of the Nile river, that is where the Nile begins to be "The River Nile". Many jokes about "denial" were made...

We'll stay the night here in Jinja, then leave tomorrow for Sororti 

I've spent the last five days with 16 people visiting Uganda from the US lead by Johnny Karls. They are all mostly from Oregon, but some are from Colorado and North Carolina. I met up with them right as they pulled into ARM headquarters in Gaba and been with them since then. The first day we spent in Gaba and the surrounding areas. We were given the tour of ARM headquarters, school and church attached to it, I helped show everyone around Wentz, and then we drove up to the Loving Hearts orphanage. We parted ways for the night, but I was up at 5:00am Saturday morning to get on the bus with my fellow mzungus to make the three and a half hour drive to Mubende. 

We arrived at Cachungwa (an ARM supported sponsorship program) by 9ish on Saturday morning. Right off the bat the kids came and swarmed around the bus, greeting us in broken english. Even if we couldn't understand what they were saying, the emotion and looks on their faces was plenty to know that they were ecstatic to have us there. Honestly to write everything that happened there would take half a day. To summarize it, it is best to just say that I have never felt so welcomed, so appreciated, or so loved by kids in my entire life. they could not get enough of talking to me, asking me where I was from, asking how many kids I had, why I wasn't married yet at 20 years old, having me repeat Lugandan phrases, and they especially loved when I would pretend to lift imaginary invisible rocks and throw them around. We spent three days there helping teach sunday school, being expected to give a spontaneous on the fly lecture about HIV/AIDS, or answering any of the questions the local pastors or officials had. 

During our time in Mubende, we visited Mulette (another ARM supported sponsorship program) and got a tour of the campus along with their new medical clinic. The clinic should be up and running by the end of october, so I will probably be visiting it again while I'm here.

There has been soooooo much that has happened in the past few days I know that I am forgetting or leaving stuff out. I'll just have to tell you all the individual stories of the people we met, the things we saw, the incredible ways we impacted the children, and the even more incredible way the children were able to impact us.

Highlight of the day: We went to the very nice section of Kampala today on the way back from Mubende. In a big pretty nice shopping mall, we had lunch in the food court. I ordered the biggest cheese burger I could find, which ended up being in a Lebanese restaurant oddly enough. It was aallmmosstt as incredible as having my mom's cookies, I was so happy to have some Western food hahaha...

the view from the window in my room

My room

I drove on the wrong side of the road sitting on the wrong side of the car today! I mentioned to Dr. Martin that at some point in the three months that I'm here, I wanted to try driving a right-sided driving car on the left-side of the roads. When I was walking out the doors from work Dr. Martin followed me out, threw me his keys, and said, "You might as well try it now, right?" I'll say it was quite the mind teaser, the drive selector was on the left side of the steering column, the rear view mirror was to my left, and even with the seat all the way back/down I felt like I was driving a mini-mini-van. I stuck to the back roads today, there's no way I have the skill/confidence to drive amongst the other crazy drivers, boda-bodas (motorcyclists), or random oblivious pedestrians. The only problem with the back roads is they are.. well.. let's say.. rugged. I'm sure there were a few instances where one or even two of the tires came completely off the ground. Dr. Martin said I drove the roads like I had done it before, I told him the closest thing I've had to driving these types of roads is in a golf cart on dirt roads in Michigan.. and they are nothing alike.

Another first today, I was able to help and observe the nurse as she gave out immunizations. While most of what I did was observation, it was all in the intention that I will be able to do it in time. For now, my responsibilities were weighing the babies, giving a polio vaccination (two drops from a glorified eye dropper on the tongue), and documenting all the info and vaccines administered. On a side note: the first person I have ever administered any type of drug/medicine/vaccination is a 3 month old named Duncan, quite a proud moment for myself.

I also saw myself on TV tonight. Gaba Community Church puts their sunday service on one of the many christian TV channels here. It was very easy to pick myself out of the crowd. The group from the US arrives here tomorrow, I'm excited to meet them and begin seeing more of this beautiful place.

I dont usually pass these kinda things on, but this one really moved me to do so..

"THE ROOM" as written by a 17 Year Old Boy.  

This is excellent and really gets you thinking about what will happen in Heaven.

17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was What Heaven Was Like. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. It's a killer. It's the bomb It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was the last.

Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teays Valley High School  in Pickaway County .

Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them, notes from classmates and teachers, and his homework. Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven.

It makes such an impact that people want to share it. "You feel like you are there," Mr. Moore said. Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day afterMemorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted. 

The Moore 's framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him.

Here is Brian's essay entitled:

"THE ROOM"

 In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings.

As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read,""Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At."

Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at:"Things I Have Done in My Anger","Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived.

Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I Have Watched," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. 

One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards.

But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it. The title bore"People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room.. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. 

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes.

Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room.. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files.. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, and so alive.

The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16

This girl was brought into the clinic today for a full check-up. She was abandoned at one of the local orphanages yesterday. No one knows her name, where she's from, or why anyone would want to give her up. She really liked playing peek-a-boo with me while the doctor and the orphanage employee talked.

New discovery for the day: I stick out more late at night than any other time of the day. I literally felt like I was glowing walking down the street while on my way home much later than usual. I might as well have been with the added number of stares I had.

My time at Wentz gets better and better with every day I spend there. I was able to sit in the lab and see what goes on in there. I was shown how to stain blood samples in order to see if a patient has malaria. In addition to that, the doctors have continued encouraging me to voice my opinions and ask the patients questions whenever I am able to sit in with them. So, I've been throwing in my ideas or thoughts helping the doctors in a few cases. Taking the patient's blood pressure has also become a standard procedure for me, the reason being I sit much closer to the patients than the doctor, putting me in an optimal place to do so. Tomorrow I'm hoping to be orientated in helping give vaccinations! So we'll see how that turns out. 

I was able to try some jack fruit and chew sugar cane, my host is determined to have me try every type of food here. I am completely ok with that. 

The other day I went to the local supermarket and got a small journal that I've decided to write any important info into instead of accumulating tons of random scrap paper with small phrases or words or what have you. I also started journaling each patient that I sit in with while the doctor does his thing. I'll write down the symptoms, what the doc thinks, what tests are done, and the result. (No HIPPA laws  out here haha). So I think that writing all of it down to be able to review at a later time will be pretty beneficial, plus remembering all the new/differnent meds, terms, etc wouldn't be an easy task otherwise.

Had another humbling experience as an infant came back to the clinic today. (semi graphic material to follow, not for the weak stomached) He was brought the first time after the tip of his finger had pretty much been completely cut off in some sort of accident. The doctor and nurses did what they could and try to attach it back on it's place and sent him home to come back again to check the progress. Today when the infant was brought back I sat in with Dr. Martin as he unbandaged the finger. Without going into detail, it was pretty bad and even though the doctors here did what they could, it didn't take. Because of some complications, most of the infant's finger was amputated with the hope that this will be the end of this injury. Now the really humbling part of this is, were this to happen in the States, I think that there would have been a specialist that could have fixed it. On top of that, were the circumstances at the infant's home different then they probably were, more of the finger could have been saved. The clinic did everything that could be done, but because of the situation here in Africa, or more specifically in Gaba, there was nothing else they could have done. This is just a small example of the way things are here.. I feel for the people that live here, and I feel very blessed to have the privileged life that I have.

During another patient's visit, the woman carried her cute little baby girl in with her. While the doctor talked with the patient the little girl stared at me with a typical baby stare as I smiled and said hi. All of a sudden the baby burst out screaming. The mom couldn't figure out what had happened, but I acted on a hunch and walked out of the room. A few moments later the child calmed down. When the patient left I walked back into the doctor's office and sat down. Dr. Martin and I figured that it was probably the baby's first time ever seeing a white person, a really big one at that, so she probably got scared.

My sleeping patterns have definitely changed in the past week.. Going to bed at 10ish and waking up at 730 is a big stretch for me but it's beginning to get easier. Tomorrow begins another week at Wentz followed by the beginning of my 6 day excursion mentioned previously.

Church was great this morning, followed by a relaxing day of watching american movies and ugandan tv. Its customary for christians here to not prepare food for dinner on sundays, so I write this as I eat a couple of my mom's cookies. Speaking of food... I have begun to crave any type of food familiar to home. So hamburgers, burritos, steak, a bowl of cereal with cold fat free milk, etc. Is it bad I already know what I want to have for dinner the night I get home three months from now? haha

My ugandan word bank is slowly growing, I've got about 20 words/phrases written down, and about 2 memorized. "Muzungu" is "white man" and "Njagala emele" is "I want food" Not a bad start if I say so myself..

Gaba

Wentz

Yesterday Larry arrived in Uganda and came by to Wentz to drop off a few things from California that I either forgot or realized I needed since I've been here. In addition to what I had asked for, he delivered a box full of my mom's home made cookies. I can't ever say I've ever been so happy to eat a cookie. And as much as I wanted to keep them all to myself, I shared them with the staff at Wentz and the people here at the house I'm staying at. They all loved them, so mom when you read this you can say that your baking has been enjoyed all the way out to Africa.

Today is my day off, so I have been enjoying it by sleeping in and lounging around. Just in case anyone was wondering, I don't have to cook, clean, or anything of the sort. I've tried. But they won't let me, insisting that they should be doing it for me. I think it's a combination of cultural thing and I think because they figure I'm helping out with Wentz and ARM that this is there way of helping me. Again, I've tried, but I'm not complaining that I don't get to do that haha.. 

If there's anything that I've not included on the blog feel free to ask. I'm more than happy to answer any questions you may have.

Thursday 9/9 8:00pm

Well, it has been a full week and a day here in Uganda and I feel as if my feet are finding their pace here both literally and figuratively. Today at work a "large group" of white people (6 people) from Texas came to donate a couple suitcases full of medical supplies for the clinic. We chit-chatted for a bit while two of the women caught up with some of the clinic's nurses and once they left almost every employee of the clinic came up to me during one point of the day to ask, "Was it good for you to see white people today?" I replied, "Well, yes, but I kinda like being the muzungu of the town."

Yesterday I was offered a great opportunity that was too good to refuse.. Next friday there is a group of US ARM supporters coming out here to check things out and see what they are supporting while donating money/time from the US. They will be traveling to some of the ARM supported places/facilities/groups here in Africa. The group would start here in Kampala. From the morning of the 18th they would leave for Mubende to visit places (three sponsorship places and a farming area) there then come back to Kampala the morning of the 21st. Then in the morning they would go over to Bethany to check things out over there. That same afternoon (the 22nd) they would leave for Jenja, check things out (project called Mayuge, a sponsorship program), stay there for the night. Then the next morning (the 23rd) they would leave for Soroti, check things out there (another sponsorship program), stay for the night. Finally, and my personal favorite, the 24th would be a day completely dedicated to going to a game preserve, including a land/driving safari and a water/boating safari/cruise. I am very much looking forward to this.

So, yeah.. That's what goin on out here. haha

p.s. I hope to be able to upload some pictures in the near future. Only thing is that its a long process and I'm being graciously given internet without charge. To upload pictures takes a good deal of time and amount of info down/up loading. Don't worry, if you still feel like you didn't see enough of the trip, I'm sure there will be plenty of picture viewing nights at my house when I return.