The Last Post

Where has three months gone? Unbelievable. I spent, most of the week on safari in the spectacular Masaai Mara and Lake Nakuru national parks. Vast and expansive country...Stunning to behold the grandeur and complexity of God's creation. While there, I took more than a thousand pictures, made new friends and collected some wonderful lifelong memories of a dream realized. I will have one more day of touring around and seeing the local sights, before heading to the airport later in the day, to begin the long journey home.

The last couple of days have been spent mostly in hotels, reflecting on God's faithfulness. My first hotel was situated in the bowels of downtown Nairobi - not what I had planned and quite an experience being in the less desirable part of town. Just when I was feeling a tad vulnerable and alone...what should come wafting through the air than the sound of country gospel tunes. Dolly Parton I think. Not my first choice but comforting words. He leadeth me... And this morning, as I am packing and preparing to head home on a Sunday morning, pondering how nice it would be to attend church, what should come wafting up from the filthy, rubbish-strewn back-alley outside my window, but the sound of a church service...how cool is that? He meets our every need.

He remains faithful even when we do not. A week of being out in the world again - out from the umbrella of an organization that is so Christian in focus and practice - has made me realize how easy it is to get sucked back into the world again...into making our own plans, relying on our own strength, following our own desires. As I come to the end of my time here in Africa, I am left with a strong sense of just how important it is to press in, constantly. To make choices, daily, moment by moment, that bring us as close to God as we can possibly get. It is only in the shadow of his wing that we are assured of salvation, protection, abounding joy and peace. My one prayer going home is that He provides me all the grace and wisdom I need to choose Him and serve Him daily. May it ever be so...

Friends and family, I look forward to seeing you soon. Please don't expect to meet the me you think you know. I am changed. Treat me so.

xxx H xxx

Jambo Kenya

Oh my gosh what a day! After a very early start this morning (3.30am) here's what I've managed to do on just 3 hrs sleep:

The flight was over very quickly. I enjoyed looking out the window at Lake Victoria and marveled at the amazing topography of Kenya, with its rifts and steppes. It's plain to see there has been some major geographical upheaval to this land in times past. First impressions of Nairobi?... far more modern than I expected and surprisingly tame, when compared with Uganda. Apart from a brief glimpse of Kibera slums, the city is actually quite pretty, not unlike Wellington in some ways. Having been ferried from the airport to the tour office, I ended up doing a mission to the bank and then signed myself up for an afternoon of impromptu sightseeing.

I have now patted an orphan baby elephant, feed and cuddled Ed the giraffe, watched a spectacular show of traditional music and dance from different tribes in Kenya, experienced the difference in hut design and village layout of all the tribes of Kenya, survived rush hour traffic and made it to my hotel and am now looking forward to dining at Carnivore restaurant on warthog, gazelle, water buffalo, crocodile or ostrich...haven't quite decided which I'll go for yet...

I'm looking forward to a good solid stretch of sleep before being picked up to start my tour tomorrow morning. I'm really liking Kenya so far and am pleasantly surprised by the friendliness of the people and the civility of urban life...

Until We Meet Again Uganda

I'm sitting in Entebbe airport watching football on the big screen. Can't say I'm feeling particularly eloquent or sentimental. That could have something to do with the hour...pre 6am and I've been up since half 3, after a mere 3 hours sleep.

It's been an extremely busy week. I managed to squeeze in a few last shifts at the Bulrushes Babies Home and was amazed at how much my wee friends had grown in 2 short months. We were treated to a lovely traditional lunch in Bbira village during the week, hosted by some of the mothers there. It was a lovely opportunity to connect with the children. A young boy called Derek was rather taken with my hair and adorned me with some braids and a lovely hairstyle to enjoy lunch with. We then had a great game of footy - kids against Mzungu oldies. I'd like to say we held our own...

My last 2 days were spent running around with my head sawn off, getting ready to leap countries and adding an extra 16kg to my baggage allowance! Thankfully I'm just under my 30kg allowance, having left home with only 11kgs. Christmas is coming and I have a new red suitcase in tow. Ho!

So from here, I'll board my plane, arrive at Nairobi about 9am and hop straight on the safari bus. I anticipate a long, bumpy road to camp, which if I recall rightly is somewhere in the middle of the Masaai Mara. I pray the mosquitoes will be kind and that I have a double anointing of sleepy goodness. I have a feeling I'll be well past my used by date by the time the sun sets. After 5 days of touring around Kenya, marveling at God's creation, I'll then spend a couple of days lying low in Nairobi before embarking on my delightful 36 hour journey home. I'm likely to be offline until I hit Dubai airport, so until then be good everyone and I look forward to seeing you all soon :)

Goodbye Gulu

Today is my last day in Gulu and I am saying goodbye with mixed feelings. I've seen what I needed to see here, for now, and learnt what I needed to learn. It's time to go, but the leaving is bittersweet. I will really miss this place and the people -the beating heart of Africa. I will also miss the quality of the teaching and the intimacy of worship I have enjoyed here. I worked my last shifts at the Babies Home during the week and had the privilege of welcoming some new babies into the nursery - wee Daniel, who's mother died giving birth to him, arrived at just 2 days old; fragile Prossy, who is battling malnutrition and a host of other medical problems, who is a year old and just lost her mother to TB...her limbs are like matchsticks and she is not far off the weight or size of newborn Daniel; and a set of beautiful triplet girls, with mother in tow, who are staying in the unit temporarily to try and support the mother's breastfeeding.

My morning will be spent packing all of my gear, once again, and my afternoon will be spent doing one last circuit of town and one last visit to the Home for a round of goodbyes and cuddles. We will be setting out for Kampala at a respectable 8 am tomorrow morning and will reach the main city 5-7 hours later, all going well. From there I'll have 5 days in Kampala, before flying out to Kenya for a week on the 2nd. On the 2nd I have a very early 3.30 am start, to ensure I am on my 7.50 am flight. Arriving in Nairobi, I will be picked up from the airport by a tour company and start my 5 day safari with a gruelling 10 hour drive to camp! I imagine that my eyes will be hanging out of my head by the time I reach my tent in the middle of the Masaai Mara. With roads being as they are, hopefully my stomach won't be hanging out as well. After touring the Mara, Amoboseli and Tsavo (east and west) national parks I'll be heading back to Nairobi for 2 very quiet days at a backpackers, before heading back to the airport for my 36 hour journey home (departing 9th, arriving in Welly on the evening of the 11th). Phew! Then I will look forward to 4 short days to recover from all that before heading back to work!

I will probably manage one more post before leaving Uganda, but am unlikely to have phone or Internet in Kenya unless I find a cafe on my travels... until I hit an international airport with wifi...I'm guessing Dubai.

Out and About - Part ll

After a record five day stretch without any power, the latter part of the week has been spent getting to know Gulu better. Friday was my day off, so I arranged for one of the Boda drivers to take us on a tour of local NGOS. Tony has been working to create relationships with many of the local NGOS because he is keen to show as many people as he can about all of the positive work being done here. Rather than taking us to see the standard tourist destinations, Tony took Hannah (my favorite Irish volunteer) and I off the tourist map and into Kirombe for an authentic taste of village life. We wound our way along some 'interesting' 'roads'...(think mud slip-and-slide meets roller coaster, meets goat track), piled 3-up on a Boda. The word "Mummy!" may have been uttered a few times by the pillions on the back, but it was also interspersed with lots of laughter and "oohs" and "ahhs" as we passed some really pretty scenery and stopped to hang out with the locals.

Our first NGO visit was at Invisible Children.(www.invisiblechildren.com). I'm sure the website can explain their operation better than I can, but basically this NGO was established by a bunch of people who went to south Sudan to make a documentary, but ended up noticing a huge body of children commuting into town and sleeping in bus parks each night, to avoid being abducted by the LRA. Now they have a comprehensive and very effective operation going, which outreaches into areas where the LRA are located and provides ways for child soldiers to defect and return to their families. They make use of radio to broadcast messages from families to soldiers on the ground. Radio is also used as an alert system from village to village, to warn that the LRA is nearby. Invisible Children also conducts air drops of thousands of flyers in LRA areas. The flyers are picked up by soldiers wishing to defect...they show them where and how and also contain information that helps to counter the indoctrination and psychological torment dished out by the LRA.

Once soldiers have defected there is a comprehensive rehabilitation programme in place to help them re-enter their communities successfully. Women abducted as soldier's wives, and their children, are also helped by this programme. Invisible Children offers scholarships, schools supporting schools, teacher exchange and training, village savings and loan schemes, water, sanitation and hygiene projects, literacy support and vocational projects, like 'Mend', to assist with the rehabilitation process. Amazing, targeted & relevant and effective work being done by these folk. After Invisible Children, we visited Remnant, Crochet Kids, 31 Bits and Mend, all of which were set up in quiet little compounds in the back blocks of Kirombe village.

Remnant is an organization that has imported screen printing equipment and designs a line of fashion items which are sold overseas. They specifically look after Congalese women who were dumped by LRA soldiers in Uganda during the conflicts. These women are more vulnerable because they have no family here, are women in a male dominated, poverty stricken, postwar society and...they don't speak the local language! In addition to providing them with work, Remnant also has a comprehensive rehabilitation programme to take care of the womens' physical, emotional and spiritual wellbeing (along with their children). A few accidental purchases were made here - to support the cause, of course.

Crochet Kids is a similar operation, kick-started by a group of Christian college guys who used to crochet beanies for their friends. It is now a 150 women strong team of crocheting ladies - many of whom have babies sitting nearby - and a team who manage the production line in a small building within the compound. They continue to expand on a line of different fashion items like hats, beanies, headbands, purses etc that are marketed overseas. Each item bears the name of the woman who made it and their stories can be found online. A happy bunch of ladies who are desperately in need of an in-house childcare facility! 31 Bits is, again, similar and based on Psalm 31. They make beautiful paper beads from locally sourced, recycled paper and turn them into beautiful jewelery and embroidery items for the overseas market. Mend do similar with high end, designer purses which bear the name and story of their makers. All fantastic organisation's which are providing women with freedom in every aspect of their lives.

We finished off our tour by taking Tony out for lunch. We figured we owed him that, given that we took way longer than any of his previous clients, on account of the fact that we yakked with anyone and everyone we encountered! Lunch with Tony took a somewhat sombre turn, however, when we started asking him questions about his personal life. As it turns out, Tony was raised in a polygamist family. His father had numerous wives and he was one of 27 children. It was amazing and disturbing to learn about the reality of these families...the conflict and struggles that go on - wives and their extended families fighting each other for position, scheming to get their children ahead; children losing hope and committing suicide by insecticide, because Daddy chose to buy a younger son a bicycle, rather than an older son shoes so he was allowed to attend school. And then the struggle of these children on all levels to make their way as adults. Tony is still beset by struggles on every side. It is amazing to me that he still chooses to be honest, honorable and good, when it would be so much easier to take a different path. Throughout the tour, Tony's good standing within the whole community was plainly evident. A humble guy who makes every effort to develop relationships with others and find ways to promote their causes, rather than his own. Very humbling and tragic because I am certain his story is one among thousands here.

So that was Friday...my day off. Yesterday, after working a morning shift, we took another tour to Fort Patiko, situated some 45 minutes drive out of central Gulu. Another great drive through small trading posts and settlements, along rough roads, to arrive at the remnants of an old Arab slave-trading post and Samuel Baker's fort. What an amazing place, consisting of some mighty slabs of flat rock, piles of giant rocks which had caves underneath, and brick fortifications. The basic story of this place, (from what I could gather from Salvatore - the colorful tour guide at the fort), is that Arabs abducted thousands of Africans, brought them to this holding and sorting facility, killed off the old and weak ones and made the rest march back and forth with supplies, between Africa and Egypt and beyond! They also sold them off as slaves in various places. We were shown the various trenches, courtyards, jails, sleeping quarters and execution spots. The axe marks are still visible in the rock, to show where prisoners were beheaded. Samuel Baker was instrumental in putting a stop to it all, from what I can ascertain.

Aside from this macabre history, I couldn't help imagining the other history of the place which remained untold...This giant outcrop of rock, with its caves and flat sections, rising out of the prairies, could easily have been frequented by much earlier civilisations. The views and scenery were astounding - another taste of pure Africa - and it was my very first encounter with the 'sausage tree' a rather comical looking specimen, which had sausage like appendages hanging on strings from every branch...who knew? We retreated from our rock hopping and I had just enough time to hang out with some local children and make it back to the land rover before the violently dark, purple sky let forth it's issue. Perfect timing for us...not so much for the bus load of university students we left in our wake.

My time here is rapidly drawing to a close. I am conscious that I will be leaving Gulu in just over a week, Uganda in just over another week and Africa a mere week after that! Still wrapping my head around all of that, but in the meantime, it's back to work.

On the Receiving End

A week in sunny Gulu has passed quickly. I am adjusting to the heat surprisingly well and have settled into the place quickly, with no qualms about navigating my way around the rustic township. The babies home in Gulu is well organized in many respects and while there will always be room for improvement, I feel there is less work for me to do here. Rather, it appears there is work to be done here in me. :/

Throughout my trip, God has been speaking to me about intimacy and intimate relationship. There is truly no place like the mission field for reminding you of your woundedness and self-limiting beliefs. I am being shown the full extent to which, through fear and mistrust, I keep everyone and everything at arms length - which, in turn, is preventing me from reaching my fullest potential and realising God's purpose for my life.

For example, I've never been much good at prayer and now I'm beginning to understand why...prayer IS intimate relationship. Open, trusting, surrendered communion and worship, with God. I've never felt at ease socially and feel particularly useless at building relationships. Well hello...!? I've also come to understand responsibility, even, as a form of intimacy. I have resisted putting myself alongside anything, standing for a worthy cause, making decisions that will make a mark on the world, or committing myself to anyone least my unworthiness be revealed. I've been keeping God at a distance for a long time too. I have realized that when I pray and fellowship with God, it's the Father, by his Spirit that I commune with. I don't have a sense that I'm talking with Jesus, as such, even though I know and believe that He and the Father and the Spirit are One. A personal relationship with Jesus requires intimacy, openness, vulnerability and trust. It means allowing him to see all my flaws and failings. What a terrifying thought! But He is calling me into this place.

Here in Gulu the ramparts are under constant assault. The teaching is both edifying and convicting, the people are so open and friendly, the environment is ripe with opportunities to network, sow, water and harvest. Hiding in my comfort zone just isn't cutting it. I am being called out, to meet new people, visit new places, give testimony, attend services, cell groups and devotions and form connections with various ministries. Perhaps the most devastating assault to the defences is the worship here. My heart has been laid bare by the angelic and haunting sound (sight, smell and feel) of hundreds of joyful voices lifted up in harmony, in multiple languages. Of bodies pressing and thronging to get into a church and give thanks and praise. It is both humbling and uplifting. I'll say it again, these folks command the presence of God. They worship with abandon and their prayers are attended by the Holiest of Holies. There really is no place to hide from God! He is determined to pour His love into me. Resistance is futile. Having said that, He is doing so with the tenderest touch - like one would give a bird with a broken wing.

In addition, and in no way a coincidence, the theme of the teachings this week has been around guarding your heart and understanding the spiritual power of your words. I am being called to speak only truth and love over myself and others. I've been reading some good books on transforming prayer and mastering love to help me in this regard; also on identifying what it is that we worship and where it is that we run to. Are there things I prioritize over God? Things I won't let go of? Places I run to for comfort that won't give me what I truly need?

At this point I should add that I'm not particularly enjoying being on the receiving end - not at all comfortable with not being the one who is giving the most. I'm realizing that giving is, potentially, another way of being in control, having power and keeping everyone at arms length. God seems to have other plans for me here. He is laying me low in terms of both energy and motivation to prove a point: that I am not worthy based on what I can give. I am worthy because He has made me worthy...still coming to terms with that wee gem...and left with another question:

Who am I when I'm not trying to be worthy? What work does God have for me once I'm done giving for my own edification?

Gulu - The Real Deal

Okay...so the long trip to Gulu turned out to be just that, after a rather disorganized start, which is how things seem to happen in Africa. The plan can change suddenly and you just have to grin and get on with it. We were supposed to get picked up early, head into town to pick up more volunteers and then head north - leaving about 8.30 and arriving about 1.30pm. Instead, the town volunteers got picked up at 6am, then they came to get us about 8.30 and we went back into town again! So we didn't end up leaving town until about 10...which meant we didn't arrive in Gulu till just after 5pm. First impressions of Gulu: hot, rustic and very friendly. I feel like I'm in the real Africa now. And did I mention hot?

The following day was also spent in the van, touring around some of the major spots in Gulu. Our first mission was to make the drive out to Laminadera Children's Village, which is where Watoto babies go when they become old enough to be housed in families. This journey was the highlight of my trip so far, especially the part where we got lost in the back blocks of Africa. All of the roads out here are red clay. Some people pay good money to enjoy theme park rides. We got the best of them for free! The country is just stunning. As we passed small trading posts, people doing their washing and bathing in the streams, clusters of grass huts, animals of all descriptions and the most beautiful, wild flora and fauna, I found myself musing that I'd be quite happy to be left out there for the rest of my days.

We strayed far enough that when we stopped to ask for directions, the people eyed us with a wariness that suggested they hadn't seen white folk in a mighty long time. There was a fair amount of comedy involved in trying to ascertain where we were and how to get where we needed to be, given that our constituents spoke a mix of English and Lugandan, while the locals speak various hybrids of Acholi. We eventually worked out that we needed to go back a few trading posts and make a turn that we hadn't seen, which we did, finally arriving at the village. I should note at this point that I can see why they are collecting money for projects. The road into the village would have suited a large tractor better. Our driver did an admirable job to get us within walking distance.

As soon as the children saw us, they came flooding out of the classrooms and play areas, fighting to hold our hands. The girls crawled on their knees to try and keep up, which I found very disconcerting. The culture here is for women and children to bow down in the presence of men or those of supposedly higher status, until they are given permission to stand (don't get any ideas guys...). We looked around the school and then went to look at the children's homes...similar in set up to Suubi and Bbira, but still being developed. The place had such a peaceful country feel to it and also bordered the local community - an unusual juxtaposition of the traditional mud and grass hut clusters and red bricked homes. Again, I would have been happy to stay in this place long term.

Eventually we wound our way back into town, stopping in for a quick tour and meet & greet at the church. Then, after a quick bite, we went for a tour of Living Hope. This organization was set up to help women who were raped and traumatized by LRA soldiers during the war here. These women literally had nowhere to go, so Living Hope was established to give them a place to heal and rebuild. Currently, their operation includes a sewing room and peanut butter factory. They are also developing a shea butter factory. The women make items like aprons and bags, as well as peanut butter, which is sold through touring Watoto Children's Choirs and elsewhere. There is also a daycare Centre set up to provide for working women with children. The women are given extensive and ongoing counseling and discipleship. A very moving and humbling experience to meet the women there and see them at work.

Finally, we stopped in for what we though would be a quick tour of the Babies Home. This turned into a 2 hour orientation which was a little daunting given that we had been on the go for 2 days. And did I mention the heat? :p The home design is well thought out and there seems to be a higher level of organisation here. The home can cater for 70 odd children, but is currently housing about 40 odd, given a recent resettlement of children to the village. The pace here seems a little more laid back and the people are far more friendly than in the city. Despite all this I am still feeling a bit daunted by the prospect of having to start all over again, learning routines, meeting new people, finding ways to enrich the curriculum...all in only 3 weeks or so. I'm not sure how it manage to make much of a contribution, but I'll try.

What I have realized very quickly is that I have been brought here at a very auspicious time. I have just had the privilege of witnessing an event that has only happened 6 other times since before the birth of Christ (this being the 7th) - a full solar eclipse. Some other countries in the world may have been able to view partial eclipses depending on their location, but the place toted as the best viewing spot for the full show?: Gulu, Uganda. We watched this amazing spectacle from a hotel rooftop, in the middle of town. Oddly enough, later that evening we were hit by a proliferation of locusts, grasshoppers and other insects. They're still crawling around inside and outside of the house this morning, much to the delight of the local birds and cats.

It is also a matter of timing in respect to the people I am meeting here. Before I left home, my flatmate introduced me to a movie called Machine Gun Preacher. It's a movie about a self-confessed, biker hillbilly (Sam) who went to Southern Sudan and ended up fighting Muslim extremists to protect men, women and children who were being slaughtered, tortured and drafted into the LRA against their will. He now has an international ministry and is still hard at work in Sudan (and elsewhere). As 'luck' would have it, one of the bases for his ministry is here in Gulu. In fact, we had the pleasure of enjoying a meal here in our apartment with one of his right-hand men and one of the mothers who is looking after a house load of orphaned children here. It was a full house with 7 volunteers, Chris, Mamma Irene and 8 of her children, ranging in age from 3 and 20yrs.

It's so ironic to me, to be meeting these people. I have been saying to my colleagues that, whilst I have loved the Watoto experience, I still feel I am not operating at my highest potential. Though it would scare me near senseless, I have always said that I'd be in my element if someone dumped me in the middle of a refugee camp in southern Sudan. I have always had an interest in engaging with people from Arab cultures, have worked with refugees back home, learnt to speak some of the language etc. I've never understood the purpose of all that, but here in Gulu I feel I am closer than ever to being in the place God intended for me....who knows what will come of it. Maybe nothing, but it also seems far from coincidental.

However, please dont worry folks, I'm not planning on running off into the wilds of Africa just yet...The lion still has to find a heart! :) I'm the biggest coward I know and am still waging a constant war against the enemy, who sits on my shoulder day and night reminding me of all my flaws and failings. The battle rages on...but I press on in this place with a lot of hope and an ever constant desire to do what is right and good here.