Great Care!

One huge difference between life in America and life and Bundibugyo is the amount of time it takes to do things. I mean you can’t just whip up enchiladas you have to make tomato sauce and the tortillas. Last week when I wanted to buy some sand paper I ended up going all over... “no I don’t have it go here”. However, this weekend I experienced just the opposite.

We were participating in our usual Sunday activity... Sunday soccer at the Myhre’s, when while taking my turn as goalie my hand got in the way of a powerful shot resulting in quite a lot of pain. While in America this would have ended in perhaps hours in the ER or some waiting room followed by a large bill, here in Bundi I was quickly surrounded by 3 doctors and a nurse bringing me IB prophen, ice and quickly constructing a splint. Upon observation the following day it was decided that I needed an x-ray. There was no bone displacement but very likely a fracture. This meant the 8 hour trip to Kampala. Bumping along a dusty road, with a painful arm in the blazing heat was not something I was looking forward to. The other option presented was that Scott could just go ahead and put a cast on. After a bit of deliberation I decided I didn’t want to make the journey all the way to Kampala just for them to tell me I needed to get a cast, which I can get here. So 30 minutes later there I was on the Myhre’s porch a cut tube sock on my arm, cotton padding over top and Dr. Scott wrapping strips of wet plaster around my arm. All with the assistance of the wonderful “nurse” Julia. And I was done... easy as that. AND there was no bill! I may not have been able to choose my color cast, but I could not have asked for better care! Thanks team!

Over the mountains and through the jungle to Bundibugyo electricity goes

About a year ago huge mango trees came crashing down along the Bundibugyo road and a new kind of tree went up. The power lines have made it over the mountains and electricity is now available, though few are able to afford it. On the mission we have been using solar and have not yet tapped into the new source. Its effect on us has been from a distance. You can tell which shops are connected as kids gather out front to dance to the blaring music. Occasionally I am kept up by a neighbor showing a kung fu sounding movie. Traditionally when there is a death or a wedding drums beat all night to keep away evil spirits. Blaring music through the night is the new solution, a use of technology that I would never have considered. Duka’s with services like printing, photocopying, and cd burning are popping up. Even saw one with a popcorn machine the other day.

So we have “enjoyed” the changes of electricity at an arms length... until now. Now it is up close and personal. Our cement walls have been hacked apart. Holes for the outlets were pounded leaving a mess of rubble and fine cement dust hanging in the air. Then fresh cement was flung back into the gashes and craters in the wall. Everything book shelf, couch cushion, item on a counter top had to be moved out or covered up. This would be all well and good if they came in did the work and so mess could be cleaned and the house back in order. But here I sit over two weeks following the initial chisel pound and as I type the electrician can be heard clomping around in the ceiling and I’m still wiping cement dust off tables and shelves. Whether it is rain, not having someone to cook them lunch, or International Women’s day that has kept the MEN away... the installation continues. Getting electricity has turned into a cultural experience. African’s are not exactly time oriented. God faithfully provides grace to be flexible and forgives my eye rolling and impatience when they want to show up after noon when we are at work, or when they all leave 10 minutes after arriving because they need some tool, or when wet cement is left all over the counter. He gently shows me my own faults and my own ways of putting other things in front of what really matters. And reminds me that loving people is more important than being able to charge my phone or turn on the lights on a rainy day.

post hacking

post cement

International Women's Day

There was rain last night clearing the cloud cover that often shrouds the mountains in Bundibugyo, but today the sun was beating down. I squinted as it seemed to reflect off everything including the green grass of the Christ School soccer or pitch. The starting whistle was yet to blow and I could feel sweat already trickling down the back of my legs. Today was Women‘s Day, an international holiday that I have celebrated for the first time. Ugandan schools were out for the day and Illuminet, one of the Christ’s School teacher’s thought it would be fun to have a match between the Christ School girl’s team vs. the CSB female teachers, teacher’s wives and women from the mission. Ashley, the girl’s coach and pretty much an amazing athlete gallantly took midfield which involved the most running. Jennifer and Heidi were solid defenders and I played up top going head to head with feisty Nora who gave me a run for my money every time I got the ball.

Students lined the field gasping and awing with each good play. I felt so honored to be playing with these women and girls. In a place where just outside the school gates it would be inappropriate to wear pants, many women are uneducated and will spend their days having babies, cooking over 3 stones, and hauling fire wood and water, these teachers are role models, giving hope that it is possible to get an education and pursue a career. These girls are the future of Uganda studying hard and learning that they can enjoy playing futball like any boy. Also being poured into them is the hope that only Christ can give. That He loves them and has a future for each of their lives. And it is His love that gives them value. He is the one who will be there to lift them up not just on Women’s day but every day.

Nora Steeling the ball away