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Polskie Kasyno Online z Bonusami i Pokies – Sprawdź Ofertę

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I Think It’s Ghana Be A Long, Long Time

When I was living in Uganda in 2012, I received a request from the Missions Committee at our church – “Will you pop over to Ghana to visit the Christian high school our church supports?”  I readily agreed, but neglected to point out that “popping over to Ghana” from Uganda is akin to “popping over to London” from Los Angeles.

Africa is that big.

Africa

(In the picture above, Ghana is in Southern California and Uganda is in South Central India).

I have now traveled to Africa 26 times since early 2010, but the primary purpose of every prior trip revolved around my beloved Uganda.  Until last week.

Ghana has been beckoning to me for several years now from multiple angles.  Initially, my Memphis-based former ACU classmates JP and Jennifer Webber connected me on multiple occasions with a Ghanaian human rights lawyer who almost attended Pepperdine Law ten years ago.  This lawyer, Francis, spent part of his youth in the Village of Hope – a ministry organization largely sponsored by American churches.  Through JP, Francis heard about our work with Uganda on criminal justice reforms and has been encouraging me to keep Ghana on the radar screen if we ever expanded our African lens.

Then last year, two things happened that caused me to revisit this idea.  First, Pepperdine graduate Laure Sudreau decided to invest heavily in the future of the global justice program’s work.  Her incredible generosity allowed what is now the Sudreau Global Justice Program to think more expansively about ways we could provide access to justice beyond East Africa.

Second, the field office director for International Justice Mission (IJM) in Gulu, Uganda – with whom I had been able to work for several years – relocated to Ghana to lead that field office.  Just before Will Lathrop made this move, we were together in Washington, DC during the signing of the Memorandum of Understanding between IJM and the Ugandan Justice, Law, and Order Sector.  While we were together, Will probed Pepperdine’s willingness to expand into West Africa.  While IJM’s work in Ghana is focused upon rescuing children trafficked into the Lake Volta region for forced labor and/or sexual exploitation, he and his IJM colleagues, he explained, would be happy to open up their network of contacts within the justice system to allow us to discuss Ghana’s level of interest in us providing the type of assistance we have provided to Uganda (and, to a lesser degree, Rwanda) in the criminal justice realm.

From my prior research on Ghana, I was aware that, like Uganda, Ghana had inherited a British form of criminal justice structure that mirrored in important ways our own.  I also knew that Ghanaians spoke English, had democratic elections, and had an infrastructure that would be sufficiently safe and comfortable for our students.  Likewise, I was aware that Ghana, like virtually all developing countries, struggled with the same challenges that Uganda did in providing timely access to justice for those charged with crimes.

So, over the course of the last six months, Will and I settled on an early December collaboration between Pepperdine and IJM in Ghana.  For his part, Will and his team would arrange for meetings with all of the important sectors necessary for Pepperdine to ascertain whether the Sudreau Global Justice Program could assist Ghana in its quest to deliver justice to its people through the involvement of Pepperdine faculty, staff, students, and alumni.  These meetings were to be scheduled over the course of two or three days, with Associate Dean Danny DeWalt joining me.  (Danny is Chief Counsel to the Sudreau Global Justice Program and has been traveling to Africa through his co-leadership of Restore International (AKA Love Does) for over a decade).  My schedule didn’t allow me to leave until Tuesday – landing in Ghana on Wednesday evening.  This left us only Thursday and Friday, which we assumed would likely be enough if we were efficient.

Two weeks before take-off, two challenges arose.  First, the eyeballs of Pepperdine Law School Dean Paul Caron – the man to whom Danny and I report – fell out.  Not literally, but almost.  Both retinas inexplicably detached, necessitating emergency surgery so as to stave off permanent partial blindness.  The result was temporary blindness that would last long enough to ensure that Danny and I couldn’t both go on this trip.  (Thankfully, all is now well with Paul’s eyes).

My first call in search of a substitute for Danny was to Dane Ball – a Houston criminal defense lawyer extraordinaire.  Dane is a former student, a good friend, and nothing if not adventurous.  He joined our prison project in Uganda this summer and made me promise to let him know when the next African justice trip was coming.  He immediately accepted my invitation to join me in Ghana the next week.

Me, Will, and Dane

Me, Will, and Dane

Second, we learned that Ghana declared that Friday would be a national holiday to celebrate farmers.  This, of course pinched us to one day of meetings.  If our flight was delayed, then the trip would be for naught.  But we were feeling lucky.  So Tuesday morning, I set out from LA and Dane caught a plane in Houston.  We met up in Amsterdam and then took the seven-hour flight from there to Accra, which is near the southern coast of this West African country that borders Togo, The Ivory Coast, and Burkina Faso.

We arrived at our hotel a little before midnight on Wednesday.  Will and another IJM colleague picked us up at 7:00 a.m. and then perfectly orchestrated a series of highly productive meetings with: the Legal Counsel for the Ghana Prison Authority; the Chief Director and Deputy Director of the Ministry for the Interior; an influential Member of Parliament; the Director of Public Prosecutions; a Supreme Court Justice; and two human rights lawyers who are leaders among Ghana’s criminal law bar – one of these was the aforementioned Francis with connections to ACU friends.

The meetings couldn’t have gone better.  Ghana does have many of the same criminal justice challenges as Uganda, is eager for the type of assistance we can provide, and wants to have Pepperdine summer interns and year-long Pepperdine fellows.  Accordingly, I think it’s Ghana be relatively soon when Pepperdine has a year-round presence on the ground, and I think it’s Ghana be a long, long time that our relationship will last.  (With apologies to Elton John).

I expect that we will have 2-3 students serving as interns in Ghana this summer and I predict that we will have a year-round Sudreau Fellow on the ground in the near future.

Because Friday was a national holiday, Dane and I decided to venture to the coast to check out sights our students, fellows, and short-term prison project volunteers would want to see during upcoming trips.  We spent the whole day driving to, exploring, and driving home from Cape Coast.  Sobering is woefully inadequate to describe our visit to the castle that served as a busy hub in the West African slave trade.  Slave ships would come to this castle and buy West Africans who had been captured and enslaved by the local tribal leaders and then transport them to Europe.  The conditions inside the castle and on the ships were horrific.  For those venturing to Ghana, a visit to Cape Coast is a necessity.

Cape Coast Slave Trade Castle

Cape Coast Slave Trade Castle

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This otherwise downer of a day was made markedly more interesting by a Nigerian internet/phone scam we were able to witness up close and personal.

Just before we set off from Cape Coast for the three-hour drive back to Accra, our driver Stephen informed us that he needed to stop to buy some airtime for his phone, and he needed to do so right away.  As in most of the developing world, phone usage is ordinarily purchased via scratch-off airtime cards, so we thought nothing of it.

Until it became clear there was nothing ordinary about this transaction.

After he bought the airtime card, he got out his phone and called a number he had been sent via text.  What ensued was an animated discussion about prize money, bank accounts, and transaction fees.  During the call, Dane jokingly muttered to me, “I am a Nigerian prince who has inherited a fortune that I can share with you if you just send me a small transaction fee.”  The call ended with Stephen reading the number on the airtime card to the woman on the other end.  As you might expect, I was quite curious, so he excitedly showed me the text he had received that had prompted his call.

I read to Dane the message: “Congratulations!  You have been selected at random by FIFA as the grand prize winner of 75,000 Cedis.  Please call to arrange to have the prize money sent to you.”  Or words to that effect.  I am embarrassed to say that Dane and I burst out laughing at Dane’s earlier prescience.

Jim: Stephen, you know this isn’t real, right?

Dane: Dude, this is a total scam.  Did the person on the other end have a Nigerian accent?

Stephen:  She did!  How did you know that?

Jim: How much did you send them in airtime?

Stephen: 10 Cedis

Dane: OK, that’s only two bucks.  Don’t send them any more money, OK?

Stephen (tentatively): OK, she said I won 75,000 Cedis (several years’ wages).

Jim: Stephen, my friend, FIFA is an international soccer federation.  They are not based in Nigeria and have no incentive to send random text messages giving away lots of money to Ghanaians.

And yet . . . Stephen did not seem convinced that today wasn’t his lucky day.  So, we all agreed that Stephen could call them back after the promised next instruction came in a few minutes, but he swore to us that he wouldn’t send them any more money.

Ten minutes later, he gets a text.  We pull over and read it.  Good news – the airtime he sent them enabled them to process the electronic transaction for the 75,000.  He just needed to call back and arrange to receive the money.

Stephen: (smiling and nodding)

Dane and Jim: (frowning and shaking our heads)

Dane: Do NOT give them your bank account number.

Stephen: OK, I won’t, but I should call and see what they say.

This was getting interesting, so we leaned in to hear Jennifer the Nigerian as she answered Stephen’s call.  Jennifer informed Stephen that he didn’t need to provide any bank account details.  Instead, she had a paper check in her hand that he could pick up as soon as he was ready.  Stephen excitedly inquired about where he needed to pick up the check.  His shoulders slumped when she told him that the check was in Tamale – a remote village a mere 12-hour drive from Accra.  “But I can’t come to Tamale right now,” Stephen complained.  That was unfortunate, Jennifer explained.  But they weren’t able to mail the check.  Her supervisor, however, might be able to assist.  Wait for a text from him and then call him back.

Stephen: (smiling and nodding)

Jim and Dane: (frowning and shaking our heads)

Dane and I then laid odds on how much the supervisor would ask Stephen to pre-pay for the wiring fees.  A few minutes later, we got the answer.  The text from the supervisor confirmed that they could, indeed, wire him the money as long as Stephen paid the bank’s transaction fee.  Stephen called him and learned two things – first, the supervisor’s accent was distinctly Nigerian, and second, the transaction fee was 150 Cedis (a few days’ wages).

So, we hatched plan.  I called Jennifer from my US phone and calmly told her that I was governmental agent Bob.  (It may or may not be a federal crime to impersonate an FBI official, so let’s assume, ahem, that I steered clear of said law . . .)  I explained to Jennifer that Stephen is an undercover agent for us and that we have been listening in on his calls with her.  In a nervous and belligerent tone, she pretended to not know what I was talking about and then hung up.

Thirty seconds later, Stephen’s phone rang.  Guess who answered?  Yep, agent Bob.  I told Jennifer that we were about to carry out a raid on the building she was working in, but Stephen asked me to tell her to run so she didn’t get arrested.  “Run, Jennifer, Run!” I yelled.  The line went dead, and we nearly died laughing.

Numerous subsequent calls to Jennifer from three different phones (Stephen’s, mine, and Dane’s) went to what now appeared to be a dead line.  Moral of the story?  Unless Publisher’s Clearing House shows up on your doorstep with a check that is bigger than you, you didn’t actually win anything.

On Saturday, Dane and I headed north to the Lake Volta region where we had a chance to spend an hour or so at a shelter where the 21 trafficked children that IJM recently rescued were being fed, loved, and educated after having spent years in forced and dangerous labor in rudimentary fishing boats on Lake Volta.  These kids were sold by family or community members at the age of 5-7 and spent 12 hours a day diving down to untangle nets of their masters.  One of the young teenage girls nursed a baby fathered by her master.  The traffickers of these kids have been arrested, but hundreds more are still out there.  The work IJM is doing is truly transformative for these kids.

We also had a chance to visit Sonrise Christian High School, which was founded and is run by Pepperdine graduate Joseph Dzamesi.

IMG_3925

Joseph grew up in Ghana and returned after graduating from Pepperdine nearly twenty years ago.  The University Church of Christ helps sponsor this school and the accompanying church.

25 and Counting

Earlier this week, I returned from a packed two weeks of Global Justice work in Uganda, beginning with a day in Virginia as I met up with two leading Ugandan justice officials to discuss further involvement in the work in Uganda with our friends at Regent Law School.

Three weeks ago today, a delegation of ten Ugandans, including the Minister of Justice, Director of Public Prosecutions, Solicitor General, three Court of Appeals justices, a High Court Justice, and several others, landed and then spent a week of training at Pepperdine on mediation.  President Benton was kind enough to host an evening dinner.

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The following weekend, I had a chance to attend International Justice Mission’s 20th year celebration (Liberate) and connected up with former students and friends from around the world.

IJM Liberate 1

IJM Liberate 2

After a 24-hour turn around, I headed to Uganda for my 25th trip.  Joining me on this trip was Pepperdine Economics Professor Dr. Julia Norgaard, who has joined our Sudreau Global Justice Program team to assist with statistical analysis of our justice sector interventions in Uganda.  We arrived late Tuesday evening and hit the ground running on Wednesday morning with meetings with leaders in the court, prisons, and at the US Embassy.  We spend Thursday morning at an annual review of the Justice, Law, and Order Sector, which was attended by funding partners from around the world, as well as Uganda’s justice leaders.  That afternoon, my good friend and colleague Andrew and I made the four-hour trek to Mbale for the fourth annual graduation ceremony at LivingStone International University (LIU).  LIU, a rapidly growing Christian university offering degrees in education, business, information technology, media relations, and Christian ministry, asked me to become their Chancellor earlier this year (a largely ceremonial role).  My official “installment” took place on Friday immediately before the graduation ceremony for the 70+ graduates.

LivingStone Graduation 2 LivingStone Graduation 3jpg LivingStone Graduation 4 LivingStone Graduation 5 LivingStone Graduation 6

LivingStone Graduation 2

While I was “up country” as they say, Julia and our Nootbaar Fellow (Katy Mitchell) set about assessing data sources and gathering data.  Andrew and I returned to Kampala on Saturday where I had a chance to spend some time with his family and that of Justice K – the Ugandan Court of Appeals Justice who kickstarted the Pepperdine relationship more than decade ago – as well as with a Ugandan lawyer who just graduated from Pepperdine’s LL.M program (Louis Lwanga).

 

 

Justice K's Family

After church on Sunday, we spent the rest of the day with Henry, Lillian, and Joseph.  I met Henry and Joseph nearly nine years ago when they were in prison.  Henry (aka Hillary) is in his fifth year of medical school and Joseph is in his third year of law school.  Lillian graduated from nursing school last year, and she and Hillary officially became a recognized couple in Uganda in February of this year.  Their traditional introduction (sort of a wedding reception) will likely be in March.

Hillary and Others

Julia and headed boarded a flight home on Monday.  Trip 26 will likely be in March.

Catching Up

This is a long overdue quick summary and catch up of the last few days of my trip to Uganda just over a month ago.  I will do better in the future, including on my maiden voyage to India later this week for a global justice trip.

During the January Uganda trip, the goal was to get a few things rolling and to plan for the ambitious summer we have waiting for us.  As part of our ongoing efforts to assist Uganda in delivering justice to those detained and awaiting trial, we are in the midst of helping them launch a public defender system, pursuant to which all detainees would be guaranteed access to a lawyer shortly after arrest.  In the developed world, such access is hardwired into the system.  Not so much in the developing world.

Thursday (January 19th) was a day of meetings about the public defender project, plea bargaining advancements, and the upcoming anti-trafficking conference we are hosting in Uganda.  We started out at the home of the Chief Justice, where we discussed all of the above, plus our plans for a Women in Leadership conference this summer (which is coming together nicely).

With CJ and John Richmond

With CJ, Andrew, and John Richmond

IMG_0500

We then moved to the office of the Commissioner General of Prisons, who was quite animatedly excited about how plea bargaining was decongesting his prisons.  He insisted on having a speaking role at this summer’s national plea bargaining conference, and further reported that in his role as president of the African Jailer’s Association, he has been spreading the word about the success in Uganda around Africa.

At the office of Commissioner General Dr. Johnson Byabashaijja

At the office of Commissioner General Dr. Johnson Byabashaija

The day closed with a dinner with John Richmond (Human Trafficking Institute), Kelsey Galaway (Willow International), and Moses Binoga (head of Uganda’s Anti-Trafficking Task Force) to plan the two-day conference this summer.

On Friday, Henry took a bus to Kampala from Bushenyi, where he is in his second semester of his third year of medical school.  He is thriving, and it was so good to be with him and his younger brother Joseph, who is in his second semester of law school.  As depicted in my book Divine Collision, I met these wrongly accused brothers in January of 2010 when they were teenaged prisoners wasting away in a juvenile detention center.  I could not be more proud of the men they are becoming.  We spent much of Friday together, and Saturday morning before John Richmond and I headed to Jinja to meet up with a friend.

Dinner with Henry, Joseph, and friends

Dinner with Henry, Joseph, and friends

At the Source Café, I ate something so life changing, so “Who’s Your Daddy?” that I temporarily forgot the identity of the man who sired and raised me.  It was that good.

Banana Nutella Chapatti

Banana Nutella Chapatti

The trip home on Saturday and Sunday was nearly 42 hours due to weather delays.  It is good to be home.  I did, however, leave behind something in Uganda that will remind them of me – during the month of June, the entire judiciary structure will be looking at my mug every day, and they will be admiring our students for the month of July.

Uganda Judiciary's Official Wall and Desk Calendar

Uganda Judiciary’s Official Wall and Desk Calendar

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Surprised Again

After my nearly disastrous boneheaded maneuver on Tuesday morning, I was relieved when Andrew (Technical Adviser to the Judiciary), Shawn (IJM Uganda Country Director), and I touched down at noon in Rwanda after barely making the 45-minute flight from Uganda.  I had inserted this day trip into my week-long itinerary after an intriguing call I’d received from an American lawyer, telling me about a conversation she’d recently had with the Rwandan Chief Justice.  The American lawyer, Emily Gould, proceeded to tell me that in conjunction with a dispute resolution training program she was planning in Rwanda, the Chief Justice indicated to her that the adoption and implementation of plea bargaining was a high priority for the judiciary.  He recounted to Emily that an American professor and leaders of the Ugandan judiciary had come to Rwanda in early 2015 for a presentation about plea bargaining, and, in the wake of that meeting, the Judiciary had added this innovation to their national priority list.  Her follow-up questions led to her call me to discuss Pepperdine’s work in Uganda.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the seed we had planted in the April, 2015 meeting at the Chief Justice’s office had sprouted.  During my call with Emily, we agreed that we would all benefit from meeting in Rwanda to discuss further collaborations.  When we arrived, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that joining our lunch meeting would be two Rwandans I had previously spent some time with in Malibu in conjunction with their mediation training programs at Pepperdine’s top-ranked Straus Institute for Dispute Resolution.

Bernadette, Judge Mutabazi, me, Emily, and Andrew

Bernadette, Judge Mutabazi, me, Emily, and Andrew

Following this lunch, Emily, Shawn, Andrew, and I went to the Chief Justice’s office for a meeting him, the incoming Prosecutor General for Rwanda, and his predecessor, each of whom had attended the 2015 meeting about plea bargaining.  We discussed the Pepperdine internship program (doubling in size in Rwanda this year) and we delved deeper into Uganda’s ongoing successful implementation of plea bargaining.  Whereas I did most of the talking at the 2015 meeting, I mostly listened this time as Andrew described in detail the effort he is leading in Uganda as the Technical Adviser to the Judiciary.  It pleases me to no end that the Ugandans are assuming a leadership role in the criminal justice reforms in their country.  It also warms my heart to hear the Rwandans’ plans to follow in their neighbor’s footsteps.  I anticipate that further collaboration will follow between Rwanda, Uganda, and Pepperdine as the implementation begins.

Emily and Shawn bookend the Ugandan leaders moving toward plea bargaining

Emily and Shawn bookend the Ugandan leaders moving toward plea bargaining

Rather than heading back to Kampala after my return flight from Rwanda, I stuck around at the airport to greet a friend of mine, John Richmond, who was scheduled to land about two hours after I did.  John is a former IJM field office director in India who helped pioneer IJM’s anti-human trafficking initiatives.  He then served as a federal prosecutor of human traffickers, before recently partnering with a colleague to found The Human Trafficking Institute – an international non-profit aimed at attacking human trafficking at its root.  John’s trip to Uganda stemmed from a conversation I had late last year with Kelsey Galloway, who runs an anti-trafficking organization called Willow International that dedicates its efforts to rescuing and rehabilitating trafficking victims in Uganda.  During that conversation, Kelsey and I conceived of partnering for a national conference in June about human trafficking in Uganda, and John was the first call I made.  We all agreed to meet in January in Uganda to explore deeper the trafficking challenges faced in Uganda and to begin crafting the training agenda for the conference.

John’s arrival on Tuesday evening provided yet another opportunity for me to display my utter incompetence.  When John told me he was arriving on Tuesday night, I leapt into “erroneous assumption mode.”  I am such a regular in this mode that I have my own designated parking space.  In my defense, I am an idiot, so it isn’t my fault.  When I fly into Uganda, I arrive at night on the KLM flight at 10:30.  When John flew into Uganda a couple years ago to join our first national plea bargaining conference, he arrived at night on the KLM flight.  So . . . I assumed . . .

Yep, I was wrong.  He came in on an earlier flight on Brussels air.  So when he arrived, I wasn’t there to greet him.  I was in the lobby restaurant . . . writing a blog post about how much of an idiot I was for nearly missing my flight that very morning.  If it wasn’t so ironic, it might be sad or, perhaps, funny.

Fortunately, John is well traveled, so, after scanning all of the signs held by taxi drivers and finding none that said “Richmond,” he figured out how to get onto the internet and sent me an e-mail: “I just exited the airport. Where shall I meet you?”

D’oh!

Fortunately, I had my e-mail open.  More fortunately, he was gracious about my incompetence and didn’t actually have to wait too long for me to extract my noggin from my caboose.

The next day was a whirlwind of meetings, starting with an early breakfast with a friend from the State Department based in Kenya who was in Kampala to assist with training police and prosecutors in personal security in the wake of the assassination of a Ugandan prosecutor about two years ago.  I previously wrote about my departed friend Joan, here.  John and I then met with the country’s lead prosecutor about the human trafficking problems in Uganda, and then I attended a six-hour session of the Sentencing Guidelines Committee – a project we have been assisting Uganda with for about five years.  We topped off the day with a dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in Kampala – Nawab.  John, Kelsey, and I were joined by Pepperdine’s year-long Nootbaar Fellow, Joanna Brooks, and last year’s Nootbaar Fellow, Nicole Banister.  Nicole arrived back in Uganda on Monday and will be spearheading a new joint initiative between Pepperdine, IJM, and the Judiciary as we establish the first-ever public defender office, providing timely representation to those charged with crimes.  The pilot program will likely launch in March.

My final post about this trip to follow soon . . .

Further Evidence

Those acquainted with me even in passing know I am an idiot.  I can’t help it.  My parents aren’t idiots, my siblings aren’t idiots, and my kids aren’t idiots, so it doesn’t appear to be genetic.  My wife isn’t an idiot, and most of my friends aren’t idiots, so it doesn’t appear to be contagious.  Whatever its source, what I have is bone deep – it infiltrates my marrow, as I have proven time and time again.

As demonstrated below, I provided further evidence of my imbecility yesterday here in Kampala, Uganda where I had arrived on Saturday evening on my 20th trip in the past seven years.  And this, after I was so proud of myself for snatching victory from the jaws of defeat just before I departed on Friday.

As I searched for the elusive balance between price and sanity in scheduling the body-punishing, soul-denting trip from Los Angeles to Uganda, I had settled on an itinerary that took me from LA to Portland to Amsterdam to Kigali (Rwanda) to Entebbe (Uganda).  It was “only” 28 hours of travel time (32, when measuring door to door) and shaved about $400 off a (slightly) more direct route, which would have been 23 hours.  The problem is that if either of the first two legs were delayed, I’d be hosed and lose an entire day.

Well, you guessed it.  A “ping” on my cell phone while I waited in the frequent flyer lounge (membership has its privileges) notified me that LA to Portland had been delayed 40 minutes.  Because my layover time was only scheduled to be 65 minutes, I knew I was done unless I acted quickly.  Having previously exhaustively researched the various alternatives, I convinced the nice lady at the computer in the lounge to route me through Salt Lake to Amsterdam where I could resume my original itinerary, assuming nothing else went wrong.  A little hustle between planes in both Salt Lake and Amsterdam got it done.  To top it off, I snuggled up with my Ambien BFF (magic sleeping dust conveniently packaged in a little white pill) at all the right times and arrived without feeling like I had been hit by Brian Bosworth (like when he played for OU . . . not like when Bo Jackson made him his girlfriend).

I felt so smart.  So I decided to stick with the good decision making and got up five hours later on Sunday morning to go to church with Justice Kiryabwire and his family, including grabbing lunch at their place and playing with my God son Mark and his siblings Kirabo and Matthew.

Mark Kiryabwire (God Son)

Mark Kiryabwire (God Son)

 

Kirabo, Mark, and Matthew with "Uncle Jim Gash"

Kirabo, Mark, and Matthew with “Uncle Jim Gash”

A couple hours later, I had the privilege of attending a birthday party for Andrew Khaukha’s two-year old.  (Andrew is the Ugandan project manager on the Memorandum of Understanding with Pepperdine).

Birthday barbecue

Birthday barbecue with Andrew’s family and friends

I went to bed feeling good, and things went quite well on Monday.  I met with our Pepperdine Nootbaar Fellow, Joanna Brooks, at her mediation chambers and had several other productive meetings about ongoing and upcoming projects.

Introducing Pepperdine Nootbaar Fellow Joanna Brooks to Principal Judge Bamwine

Introducing Pepperdine Nootbaar Fellow Joanna Brooks to Principal Judge Bamwine

Tuesday morning started off swimmingly.  Andrew and I made it from Kampala to the Entebbe Airport in 90 minutes – unusually quick for the morning rush hour.  We arrived at 9:30 for our 11:50 departure to Rwanda, where we were scheduled to spend the day with Rwandan justice sector leaders and Uganda’s IJM country director, Shawn Kohl.

As we walked from the parking lot to the terminal, I developed an uneasy feeling that something was terribly wrong, but I couldn’t place what it was.  I slowed my stride and eventually came to a frozen halt.  My blood pressure spiked into the danger zone as my metaphorical head emerged from my metaphorical tailpipe with what had to be an audible suction “pop.”

“You have got to be kidding me . . .” I gasped as I stared at the back of Andrew’s head.

“Yes, Jim?  What is the problem?” he replied.

“MY PASSPORT!”

“Yes, Jim?  What about it?”

“Um, it’s in the safe in my hotel room . . .”

“That is a problem, Jim.”

I quickly glanced at the fitbit on my wrist (the function of which, as my belly can attest, is only to tell time) – 9:47.  Two hours and three minutes until the scheduled departure of the ONLY flight to Rwanda that day that would arrive in time to attend our meetings.  And Rwandair is never late.

Let’s see . . . 90 minutes each way, five minutes to run to my room, and twenty minutes to get through security, check-in, and immigration.  If I started right now, I could get to the departure gate just under two hours after my flight left.  I might have mumbled something that rhymes with “spit.”  I might have.

As he is want to do, Andrew sprung into action.  “Now, Jim.  You call your friend Tango and have him go the hotel straightaway.  I will call my friend who can help us.”

As I am want to do, I stared back at him blankly, then finally said, “We don’t have time.  Even if Tango could get my passport, he will never make it in time.”

“He will make it.  I have an idea.  Just call him and tell him to go to the hotel.”

I did as instructed.  Fortunately, Tango has been driving me for seven years now and is a good friend.  He happily did as I requested.  Meanwhile, Andrew had tracked down one of his friends (he knows virtually everyone in the country) who worked at the hotel where I was staying.  She was off duty, but she agreed to call one of her friends who was working.  After several conversations and an e-mail to the hotel authorizing them to go into my room and retrieve my passport, Tango had it in hand at 10:15.

Rather than getting into his car and driving the 90 minutes (at best) to the airport, he hopped on the back of a motorcycle taxi and sped away from the hotel, weaving in and out of traffic.  In the midst of the frenetics, Shawn arrived at the airport and jumped into the planning, calling his friend to meet Tango at a gas station near the airport where he would dismount the motorcycle and jump into a taxi because motorcycles aren’t allowed near the airport.  At 11:00, we were still waiting and getting increasingly nervous.  Tango was close, but still hadn’t yet transitioned from two wheels to four.  Shawn then had the idea of going ahead of us with the plan of delaying the flight through some charming fast-talking.

Ten minutes later, Shawn had convinced them to wait a few more minutes for us before the check-in process shut down (which is normally one hour before boarding on Rwandair).  They would give us five minutes.  At 11:10, Tango came running up the road from the parking lot and thrust my passport into my hand.  I almost gave him a wet kiss, but settled for showering him with Ugandan Shillings.  When Andrew and I finally arrived at the check-in desk, Shawn was sharing family stories with his new best friend behind the ticket counter.  When the plane pulled away from the gate and onto the tarmac, we were on it, with about five minutes to spare.  I think I aged four years during the process.

Had we not made the flight, we never would have had such an encouraging set of meetings in Rwanda.

The Roar of Silence

It has been four days now since I saw the new Martin Scorcese film at a special preview screening, and yet the sounds of Silence are still ringing in my ears.

silence

I have been eagerly awaiting the release of this adaptation of a 1966 novel of the same name since I learned that my friend Dale Brown was teaming up with Scorcese to finally get this project to the big screen. Another friend, Tyler Zacharia, is Dale’s right-hand man and has been updating me periodically as the film wound its way through the seemingly interminable production process, including a preview screening in November at The Vatican.

In order to render it eligible for the 2016 movie awards, Silence was released in four theaters on December 23rd. This weekend, it expands to 51 theaters, and then expands further to 750 theaters next weekend. On Tuesday of this past week, Dale invited me and some other folks at Pepperdine to join a special screening in Hollywood at the Landmark Theater. My oldest daughter Jessica accompanied me on this father-daughter date.

Having not read the book (but knowing the 2:30 run time), and knowing that the plot revolved around the persecution of Portuguese priests in 17th century Japan, we knew we were in for an evening of active education and contemplation, rather than the usual passive special-effects-driven, car-chased-fueled entertainment. We were right.

My hope in writing this review is to convince you to see the film, so I won’t spoil it for you. I will, however, provide you with some questions to ponder in advance. And while the movie was made by Christians and tells a story about Christians, the themes and questions raised by the film are most certainly universal.

Question 1: Why do some people laugh heartily at the recidivism of Kichijiro, while others squirm and wince? Both responses are, in some ways, appropriate, depending upon how one views human nature and how one sees oneself.  I tended much more toward the wincing, as I saw myself too clearly in this superbly acted supporting character.

Question 2: “What would I do if I were in the shoes of Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield)?” After thinking about this for a few hours after you see the film, then ask, “What should I do if I were in his shoes?” Are these answers different? If so, why? Because of weakness, or because of strength?

For me, my body tells me I probably would have ultimately made the same choice; my mind tells me I would aspire to make a different choice; my soul is conflicted. It seems to me that this all boils down to how one views intense human suffering and the lengths we are called to go through to relieve it here on earth. My experiences over the past seven years in African prisons informs my view of this, but probably not in the way I would have assumed.

Question 3: What did the last scene mean? Should I be happy, angry, relieved, disappointed, or just dumbfounded? All but a few of those in the packed theater on Tuesday night started out with the latter, as we sat in stupefied silence and watched the credits roll. I will confess to wrestling with the other four above-listed emotions in the intervening days.

I had a chance to talk the next day to a good friend who had read the book, and he assured me that the book left the reader in a similar state of wonderstruck limbo.

I still don’t know exactly what I think about the movie, but I do know a few things: (1) I will see it again, and soon, (2) how and why a story about Portuguese priests four hundred years ago has strong relevance today, and (3) my Christian and non-Christian friends will be glad they invested the time, money, and mental energy in this important film.