Well, I suspect that ya’ll have heard quite a few reviews of the week’s activities. We have been blessed so much, and so regularly with excellent translators, receptive loving people, and the right words to say that it would probably be redundant to write it. I would simply like to share what happened today. For many of us, today was one of the more difficult days we have had.
We began by visiting Jinja Children’s Hospital to take Polaroids of mothers with their children. For those of you who maybe don’t know, in addition to the medical supplies we have brought to Jinja, the team has been shooting Polaroid pictures of mothers with their children, with John 3:16 printed on the front. The idea is to give them something valuable that they will appreciate, but they will not be able to sell. It is always a bittersweet experience visiting the hospital. While it is heartbreaking to see the condition of some of the malnourished children, or the walk through an HIV clinic packed with kids, it is so good to see how the conditions of the hospital are slowly improving. Even since my last visit two years ago, some immediately noticeable things have changed, such as some new renovations and painting throughout the facilities. The medical supplies we sent in the shipping container have finally arrived, and it was great to see Betty, the hospital director, beaming next to her new examination lights.
For me, today was a lesson in relying on God. Johnny, Sara, Mr.B and I went to speak at Liahona High School this afternoon, and were accompanied by Tina, my dad, and Mrs. B. Since this it was a higher level school where some of the older Canaan kids go, I expected our talks to be received well, and be very easy. We had spoken in several other schools already, all of whom were very eager to listen and interacted with us very well. At this school, the students were a little bit older, and they all spoke English, so there was no need for a translator. In previous schools, I had been praying constantly up until the point where I started to speak, and God had always given me the words to say. Today, I just jumped in thinking that I was prepared, but God always has ways of telling us when we need to trust him. I base my talk on asking questions, and using students’ answers to connect my points, but when I asked my opening question, I received 200 blank stares. What had come so naturally before became very difficult. I felt as though I could not connect with the students, partially because I was trying to hold onto a train of thought that needed interaction with the students to fuel it, and I had to speak “African-English” as opposed to speaking through a translator. Although I have been told I’m getting good at speaking that way, it is very hard for me to order my thoughts when I’m trying to speak in a manner that feels very strange to me.
As a said before, it was a hard day for many of us. For Tina especially, walking from the school to the point where we would meet the truck to take us back to Canaan was not easy. The walk took us straight through a village of mud huts, and past an open market surrounded by garbage. This was the first time Tina had been really outside of the Canaan compound without being in a vehicle, to really see what the poorer places are like up close. That, on top of seeing the hospital this morning really drove home what life looks like for the people in Uganda.
We drove home from the school in the back of the truck with the students, which gave me a beautiful view of the sun setting over a hill that overlooks Lake Victoria. As I watched the sun get closer and closer to the horizon, it worried me more and more because I was supposed to take photographs of every child at Canaan this afternoon. John had asked me if I would skip the school visit so I could spend the afternoon taking pictures, but since we were going to the high school where Canaan kids go, and we were supposed to get back with plenty of time to spare, I decided that I would shoot with them after we visited the school. I was regretting that decision more and more, especially after the hard time I had speaking. I fully expected that trying to photograph 90 kids in almost no light would be absolutely miserable. On top of that I was skipping dinner to do it. I don’t want this message to sound like a list of complaints, so I’ll get to the point. God could not have proven me more wrong. Before I started shooting, I had a couple of minutes to get ready, and I just sat down and prayed that God would help me get this done, because it was the only chance I would get to do it for the rest of the week. I ended up finding a nice well-lit spot in the new dorm that did not have fluorescent lights like the others, and I had a great time hanging out with the kids and showing them their pictures as I worked. It was a great end to an otherwise hard day, and God certainly gave me a lesson in dependency on Him.
On a final note, I still caught the end of dinner, which Scott Scheffer, his daughter, and his Scottish neighbor, Jerry, were present for. I will leave the more detailed account of that encounter to someone else, though I will say that Jerry had some profound words to say on the differences between Western and Ugandan culture, which were saddening when looking at America, but quite encouraging when looking at Uganda. I will offer only one quote: “There are mud huts on Wall Street.”