Catching Up

We returned “home” to Gaba on Thursday night.  We had a couple of days off clinic to catch up.  Since Jim and I had missed our 23rd wedding anniversary while I was on the road, we went on a long date on Friday.

On Saturday we took a trip to Jinja.  On the way we picked up our California friends, Beth and Kate Kirchner, who have been volunteering this summer with various organizations in Uganda.  They will continue helping in Uganda, then Zimbabwe before returning home.

Jessica, Kate, Joline, and Beth

At a coffee shop in Jinja we ran into Spencer Bogle (a former Pepperdine classmate of Jim’s younger brother Jerry).

Jim and Spencer

Next we visited our old friend Franco the monkey at Katie Davis’s Saturday program.  We also enjoy visiting with Katie and her girls.

Franco the monkey

 We ended our day in Jinja with a visit to Ken and Pastor Henry.  The local children really enjoyed our visit and so did we.

Gash & Gregston families with Ken and Pastor Henry

 

Visiting with the local kids

On Sunday we visited with friends at Gaba Community Church, then picked up our friend Henry (who is in his second term of Secondary School) from his boarding school to go shopping and have lunch.  He needed a formal outfit for his end of the term leaving party.  It only took seven guys to help him pick out the perfect suit, tie, shirt, and shoes.

Jim helping Henry shop

We then met the Gregstons at the Garden City Mall for lunch.  We were happy that John Niemeyer (who knew Henry from Restore Leadership Academy) could also join us for lunch.

Gregston & Gash families with Henry

After lunch, Henry went back to school and we joined the Gregstons on a visit to Mulago Hospital, where a little boy named Jamil (who they have been helping) is recovering from eye surgery.  On the way home, we stopped by the National Theater Craft Market to do a little shopping.  Back at the guest house we visited with Shakib (another little boy the Gregstons have been helping) and his family.  If you want more updates on Jamil and Shakib, please visit the Gregstons’ blog at www.dueunto.blogspot.com.

This is our final week in Uganda.  We will have mobile medical clinics in Bethany Village on Monday, Konge on Tuesday, and Namuwongo on Wednesday.  Then we will leave for Los Angeles on Wednesday evening.  It’s hard to believe our time is almost up.  But we are looking forward to seeing Joshua and Jennifer again!

Looming Constitutional Crisis in Uganda

Article 144 of Uganda’s Constitution requires members of the Supreme Court to retire upon reaching the age of 70.  The Constitution also provides that the involuntarily retiring justices shall serve three additional months in order to finish their judgments and wrap up affairs.  There are no exceptions and the retirements occur by operation of law.  There are no exceptions.

Chief Justice Benjamin Odoki served as the lead drafter of Uganda’s 1995 Constitution, earning the widely used moniker “Father of the Constitution.”  He became Chief Justice in 2001 when his predecessor aged out.

On March 23, 2013, Chief Justice Odoki turned 70 and officially “retired.”  Today, June 23, 2013, the three months he continues in office expires.  As of tomorrow (Monday), he will no longer be CJ.  As in the United States, the President appoints justices to the Supreme Court.  As of today, no successor has been named.

And no one seems to know when the President will act or whom he will appoint.  When we wake up tomorrow, Uganda will be neck deep in a constitutional crisis.

There has been some chatter about a possible extension of Chief Justice Odoki’s term, but there is no obvious constitutional escape hatch.  Once upon a time, the Ugandan President was limited to two five-year terms under the Constitution, but that provision was revoked prior to the 2006 election, allowing President Museveni to be elected to a third term.  And then in 2011, to a fourth term.  But no such amendments have been tendered to Parliament to allow the CJ to continue to serve.

The Constitution does allow the President to appoint, when necessary, judges to serve on short-term contracts.  There has been some chatter suggesting that President Museveni could invoke that provision and appoint Chief Justice Odoki to serve as a contract judge, and then re-appoint him Chief Justice for a specified term.  But it is not at all clear that the Ugandan Constitution would permit a contract judge to be the Chief Justice.  Such an appointment would almost certainly guarantee a constitutional challenge, which would be easily filed given the almost non-existent standing requirements for the filing of such a challenge in Uganda.

In any event, it will be interesting to watch this unfold from inside the country.

Chief Justice Odoki has been an excellent Chief Justice and the country would benefit from his continued service.  If the baton is passed, however, there are some highly qualified and talented judges ready to fill his sizable shoes, if need be.

OK, back to life in Uganda.  Jessica, Joline, and the Gregstons arrived back into Kampala late Thursday night after a very tiring, though utterly satisfying, ten-day mobile medical trip around southern Uganda during which they treated over fifteen hundred patients in community clinics.

Friday morning was spent sorting and repacking medications in and among the six trunks they use.  I was a heap of help.

“What is this for?  What does this one taste like?  What does ‘suppository’ mean?  Oh wait, it is called Rectol, so I think I might know where it goes.”

Their patience with me quickly evaporated, so they sent me with Dr. Jay to go to the nearby clinic and carry boxes.  With my octogenarian back, I wasn’t much help there, either.  Regrettably, my face made a brief appearance on the “Useless” Wikipedia page.  An exclamation point was added to this during a phone call with a lawyer friend in DC who works with families who run into challenges in the adoption process here in Uganda.  The case we discussed appears to be intractable, and (in my humble opinion) for what is likely a good reason.  As much as I want to help orphans find homes, and find them immediately, not every would-be adoption involves an actual orphan in need of a family.  My prayer is that those who, for all the right reasons, are trying to help a child will do prodigious research and investigation in advance in order to ensure that the child they seek to adopt is among the large group who are truly in need of a loving home.  With all due respect, children who are living in poverty within a family should not be included within the group identified to be in need of adoption.  Exit soapbox.

In the afternoon, however, I regained my footing by taking Joline off for an eighteen-hour anniversary date, which we had missed while she was on the road.  We checked in at the Golf Course Hotel and took a real shower — the first in quite a while without having to hold the anemic-spraying shower head with one hand.  From there, we went for a couple’s massage at the Emin Pasha Spa.  We followed that with dinner and a movie (Olympus has Fallen).  The rest of the date falls into the category of “what happens in Kampala . . . stays in Kampala.”

The next morning, we set off early for Jinja.  On the way, we picked up Kate and Beth Kirchner, twin sisters we know from home who are here for a couple months serving several different organizations.  They are teachers and are looking to relocate to Uganda at some point down the road.  Our goal was to introduce them to our friends at Amazima to explore some possibilities.  Mission accomplished.

On the way back from Jinja, we stopped off at a church to visit some friends of the Gregstons.  While there, we got to hang out with some really cool kids, most of whom loved my daughter Jessica.

Jessica and her Fan Club

One of them (appropriately named Jonah) was convinced he could take me for a piggyback ride.  Unfortunately, he badly miscalculated how much a beached whale weighs.  On the good side of the ledger, he only blew three discs so his spinal surgery should only be a half-day affair.

Jonah Carrying his Whale

On Sunday morning, we got to attend Gaba Community Church again, which is where we worshiped when we lived here in 2012.  It was good to be back.  I remain amazed at the energy expended in worship by the locals.  One dude burned more kcals during the singing than I expend during the P90X “Cardio X” video.  But let’s be real, I pull up a chair and activate the “ff” button out pretty early into the video anyway.

After church, we picked up Henry from school and took him shopping for his first proper suit.  Joline is describing the shopping experience a bit more in her upcoming post, but suffice it to say that the shop merchants smelled our mzungu money from a kilometer away and ensured they met their profit quota for the month.

Henry (in his school uniform) with the Gregstons, Joline, Jessica, and Me

On Monday morning, I will have the long-overdue opportunity to fulfill a promise I made over a year ago.

A Different Kind of Kamp’ing’ in Uganda

On Wednesday, I had my first Kamp’ing’ experience in Uganda and did not like it at all.  I loved camping as a kid.  As an adult?  Not so much.  There is something about being the one responsible for setting up the tent that sours the entire experience.

For the past three and a half years, I have devoted significant efforts in Uganda to expedite the time it takes to get to trial for juveniles confined to remand homes in advance of trial.  Many of those who plead guilty or who are convicted after a trial are released because they have already been confined in the remand home for longer than the sentence they receive.  But those who are given sentences longer than the time already served are sent to the National Rehabilitation Centre (British spelling intended).  This Centre is commonly referred to as Kampiringisa.  (See how I cleverly apostrophized the word to make it Kamp’ing’??)

For about two years, I have been intending to visit Kampiringisa with Sixty Feet, who sends a team out there every Monday and Wednesday, but the timing never seemed to work.  Well, it worked on Wednesday.  With the Pepperdine team safely back in Los Angeles, and with Joline and Jessica still on the road here in Uganda, I finally had a chance to join the Sixty Feet folks for a visit.

It was as bad as I had heard.  Not only are there more than thirty juveniles serving sentences there, but there are also about eighty other kids there on “care and protection” orders.  “Care and protection” means they are there not as prisoners, but as homeless kids.  Some of them are there because their parents don’t want to look after them anymore, or because they were causing trouble at home.  But most of them are from the Karamojong tribe, and they have arrived at Kampiringisa after being rounded up by the local governmental authority when they periodically clear the streets of begging children.  Most (perhaps all) of these kids are on the streets begging as a result of being sent or sold by their parents to work as part of group of beggars for an adult handler.

The Karamojong (or K-jongs as they are called) are considered by the other Ugandan tribes as the lowly outcasts of society.  Indigenous Ugandans can easily distinguish them from the others and routinely single them out for mistreatment.  It is quite sad.  The same is true at Kampiringisa.  The other children don’t interact with them, and the local government authority won’t let Sixty Feet provide mattresses for them to sleep on, so they sleep on the concrete floor.  When food is served, they are served separately and last.  They are the most malnourished among the inhabitants of Kampiringisa.  Sixty Feet takes active steps to counter this, including relocating many of them to another location (with express, written approval) to be nourished back to health.

All of this I had been told in advance of my arrival.  When we arrived, Kelsey (lead Sixty Feet intern) gave me a tour of the property.  Sobering doesn’t even begin to describe it.  Whenever new inmates arrive, they are put into a cell for about two weeks in order to break their spirits.  There is no bed and no toilet facility, only a plastic can in the corner of this eight-by-ten box.  They are not let out at all during this two-week period.  From there, the prisoners are transferred to the “black room” where they stay about thirty days, until they are adjudged sufficiently docile to be able to roam the premises.  In the padlocked black room, there are about twenty beds, toilet facilities (a hole in the ground), a television, and a place to bathe.

The Black Room (photo from internet -- I took no pictures on this visit)

Situated throughout the rest of the property are a smattering of buildings, some of which are used for administration and sleeping, and some of which are abandoned.  The children mill around all day.  Some play soccer with plastic bags tied up with string, some cook posho and beans over large pots, and others just sit and stare into nothingness.  The K-jongs stay together in small groups.

After the tour, Kelsey and I joined the others in the medical clinic they set up each Monday and Wednesday.  Any kid who is sick or injured gets treated by the combined American and Ugandan nursing staff.  For close to an hour, I held a very small girl with an ear infection.  She weighed less than ten pounds, but was between eighteen months and two years old.  She was badly malnourished and the nursing staff feared she had AIDS.  She didn’t even have the strength to cry (or wince) when they pricked her finger and tested her blood.  We held our collective breaths as we awaited the results.  Negative.  Thank God.

Her ear was oozing puss, so the Ugandan nurse twisted some cotton and thoroughly cleaned it out.  The devil’s-tailpipe smell of what came out raised the bile in my stomach to dangerously high altitudes.  I barely kept it down.  She didn’t even whimper.  Later, Sixty Feet requested and received permission to move her and older brother to another location where they can be nursed back to health.

From the medical clinic area, Kelsey and I returned to the black room and played cards with the kids for about an hour.  Everyone in Uganda, it seems, plays the same card game, which is a variation on Crazy Eights.

I left there more convinced than when I came that something needs to be done about Kampiringisa, and it needs to be done quickly.  At the very least, those serving sentences for crimes (such as defilement of children) should not be allowed to roam around young kids brought there for “care and protection.”  Perhaps that will be one of my next projects . . .

Thursday was a day of meetings, including one with Regent Professor David Velloney and Uganda Christian University Professor Brian Dennison.  They are jointly running a summer program at UCU that has ten students, six of whom are from Regent, two are from Trinity, and one each from Florida State and Southwestern Law Schools, respectively.  We all had lunch at a local Chinese restaurant and talked about Pepperdine’s efforts to advance the rule of law here in Uganda.

I also had a chance to catch up with the lawyer who served as local counsel for my oral argument on behalf of Henry in March.  Third-hand hearsay suggests that we might be getting a ruling by the end of July.

Joline and Jessica arrive back in Kampala tonight, so it will be good to finally be with them for the first time in nearly two weeks.

Mbarara Mobile Medical Clinics

We’ve spent the past couple of days in Mbarara.  I must admit that we’ve been on the road so long that I’m not sure exactly where we are on the map or on the calendar.  The places and days begin to run together.  It’s good to have photos to remember and to share with you.

We held a clinic in the community of Itara (near Mbarara) at the Africa Renewal Ministries school.  We saw school kids that were sick as well as community members.

Itara community members going into clinic

School kids taking a break from class

The road to Itara is lined with banana trees and small houses.  We had another opportunity to meet some of the locals when the van overheated again.

Taking a time out for van to cool down

Boy holding child among banana trees

Today we held a clinic for the community in Mbarara at a church near the main part of town.

Clinic at church in Mbarara

We were joined by a former pastor from Alabama named Ken who runs a ministry to help train pastors in Africa.  He was in charge of spiritual care for the clinic and ten people accepted Jesus Christ as their savior today.  Ken did a great job explaining the gospel to the community members including some Muslim women.  He is pictured below on the left – the only mzungu in the group.

Spiritual care with Pastor Ken

The church building was under construction but the lack of doors and windows actually provided lots of light and air, so it was quite pleasant to work there.  We had plenty of room to move around.  Some of the church members even had space to cook our lunch in the back corner of the building.

This gives new meaning to church potluck

Jessica and Jake spent much of the day in the blood lab, which they set up at the front corner of the church.  This hands on experience has been life changing for them.

Jessica & Jake make a great team in blood lab

We will work a half day clinic at the church tomorrow.  Then travel back to our home base in Gaba.  The van spent the day in the repair shop, so we hope to make it all the way without having to stop.  I’m looking forward to being “home” and seeing Jim.

Breaking the Law

The team took Monday to catch its collective breath after running at full throttle for the prior ten days.  The group that returned Sunday night from gorilla trekking on Saturday bubbled over when they described how cool the rare experience was of spending an hour hanging out with the mountain gorillas.  The eight in our group who trekked had been broken into two groups and tracked two gorillas packs, one of which caught more than a glimpse of energetic efforts to enlarge the herd.  Yikes.

While the rest of the Pepperdine team in Kampala (not including the students, as they returned to work for the judges on Monday) slept, exercised, and explored in the morning, I met with a couple judges about the status of our projects and about their thoughts on the newly rolled out Sentencing Guidelines.

We reconvened for lunch with five of my favorite Ugandans at an excellent Chinese restaurant.  Each of these five judges has worked closely with Pepperdine teams over the last few years, so it was fitting for us to thank and honor them, while at the same time introducing them to the team who came out on this trip.

The Pepperdine Team and Five "Pepperdine" Ugandan Judges

After lunch we spent about an hour with Justice Mukasa, the head of the Criminal Division of the High Court.  As we were waiting for the meeting to begin outside his office, I was caught breaking the law, breaking the law.

You're Not the Boss of Me

We talked about the Sentencing Guidelines, plea bargaining, the upcoming juvenile session – July 15th for 29 kids awaiting trial, and strategies for increasing the efficiency of the criminal justice system.  I was heartened to learn that one of the primary recommendations in my July 2012 report has come to fruition – a committee of internal stake-holders has been appointed to oversee the statutory implementation of plea bargaining in the adult realm.  The Principal Judge is chairing this blue ribbon committee.

Also during this meeting, Judge Doyle and Professor Chase continued their discussions from lunch about what role they might play in the future in Uganda, both in person and from abroad.

As we were getting ready for dinner, I decided to pull the car around.  My streak of accident-free driving came an abrupt end as a scraped another car as I backed out.  I asked the hotel guard to track the owner of the other car.  A few minutes later, he came out to inspect the damage.  After he surveyed the damage, he named his price and I paid it – 30,000 Uganda Shillings (about $12).

We dined with four of the Sixty Feet team.  Our dinner companions were Kelsey (lead intern who has been here for two years), Aaron (recently arrived intern who joined our team in Fort Portal and is now seriously considering attending Pepperdine this fall), Abby (legal intern with whom I worked last summer and who is working closely with David and me on all things J-FASTER), and Ambassador Edith Ssempala (former Ugandan Ambassador to the United States who serves on Sixty Feet’s Ugandan board).

Pepperdine + Sixty Feet = Gold

I love introducing people I know and love to each other, and a good time was had by all.

Tuesday was leaving day for the Pepperdine team, so we had only one official meeting before I took them souvenir shopping.  We met the Principal Judge, who is the head of the High Court.  We had productive and promising discussions about the new Sentencing Guidelines, the Plea Bargaining committee he is chairing, and the new rollout of mediation (for the first time) in the Civil Division of the High Court.  They have had mediation in the Commercial Division for the past four years, since Pepperdine Nootbaar Fellow John Napier was the country’s first.

Jessie and Sophia Make their First "Appearance" before Judge Doyle in Ugandan Courtroom

Professor Chase in the Prisoners' Dock

It was exciting to plan for new points of collaboration between Pepperdine and the Ugandan Judiciary.  Our relationship continues to expand and we are eager to continue to seek to be helpful to them.

Joline and Jessica are still on the road – they return to Kampala on Thursday evening, where we will all remain until the following Wednesday.

Tomorrow promises to be another interesting day as I join Sixty Feet for my first visit to the Rehabilitation Centre, which is where children who are convicted serve out the remaining time, if any, of their sentences.

Stand

“…If you do not stand firm in your faith, you will not stand at all” (the second part of Isaiah 7:9). For those of us that would consider ourselves strong, or even proficient Christians, standing firm in faith should be something that is second nature. If someone told us that God didn’t love us, that Jesus had gotten married, wearing red was a sin, or something else equally ridiculous, we would respond with a firm “No!” Some things are black and white. But what about when our culture clashes with our faith? What about the “gray” areas? How often have we said “it’s not my place to judge” or “it’s your life” as an excuse to not speak out against sin? Yes, it is true that it is God’s place to judge, not ours. I think that way too often though, we judge in our hearts and speak political correctness with our lips. Trying to not hurt feelings has become a cop out for not calling a sin a sin and preaching with timidity because we are afraid of being called intolerant. I have been guilty of this just as much as anyone else, and being in Uganda has really called me out on this. Before I stop being vague, I will preface what I am about to say with this: Give me a paragraph before you stop reading.

      I was at a Ugandan wedding a few days ago. Well, Ugandacan. The bride is from Michigan, and the groom is from southern Uganda. Ugandan weddings are, in a word, long. We only went to a part of the reception, and even that took hours. In America, it seems like toasts are a time for a short flashback, a couple jokes, or just a general good luck. In Uganda, a toast is anything you want it to be. And I mean anything. It’s a great time for your personal testimony, a short sermon, a choreographed group dance (with extremely sheer clothing), and of course, multiple translation errors. It turns out that the words for “life” and “intestines” are remarkably similar. It was a sermon during toast time that really made me question how I go about my faith. The man speaking was a midget-y Ugandan who packed more fire into his four and a half foot self than I have seen in most normal sized or even burly men. He was speaking vehemently against homosexuality using words like “evil” and “wicked.” Even when asked directly for their opinions, I have never heard an American speak so strongly (and still speak in love). Because Pastor Elisha was undoubtedly speaking out of love and speaking only with absolute care for his flock. I know that many Christians differ in both the major and minor points on the issue of homosexuality. My question is this. If you genuinely believed that God was not a fan of homosexuality, would you speak for it? If you believed that God was against something, no matter what your culture says, would you voice your agreement? I believe that there are much bigger issues in the world than homosexuality, but I believe there are few issues bigger than what makes us hold our tongues when we know something is wrong. “If salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again?” (Matthew 5:13). How could I imagine even for a second that I would die for my faith when I’m reluctant to even open my mouth at only the risk of being unpopular? Jesus spoke both truth and grace. My prayer is that we aren’t limited to one or the other.


Breaking Camp

As I have written about previously, I am definitely a hypergamist.  I married up.  Way up.  Today (Sunday, June 16th), our 23rd anniversary, I was reminded of this one more time.  Joline and Jessica are currently on a 10-day trip around southern Uganda with the Gregston family doing medical clinics in rural villages and won’t be back in Kampala until Thursday the 20th.  (The Gregston’s blog is here.)  When I opened my suitcase early last week, I found the anniversary card Joline had stashed in there for me.  Unsurprisingly, I had not thought to put a card in her suitcase.  As I said, I am a hypergamist.

Her card said, in part, “It seems fitting that we are both throwing starfish on our wedding anniversary.  When I married you, I had no idea what kind adventures we would have.”  I didn’t either.  Not even four years ago.  God has led us in a completely different direction than we could have ever imagined.  I am blessed beyond words to be walking with Joline down this ever-changing path.

OK, back to the prison work with the Pepperdine team.

Friday morning, we printed out the final copies of the final briefs.  Exhaustion was setting in for most of the team, but it was the good kind of exhaustion – the kind you feel after you have emptied your reserves into something you believe in.

The entire team drove out to the prison for a final farewell to the 70 inmates with whom we had worked.  While the prison staff was gathering the prisoners, David and I met with the warden to discuss next steps.  We explained that we were handing the baton completely to the Ugandan defense lawyers who had promised to continue working with these clients.  The warden’s most pressing question was “when are you coming back?”

Our hope is that we won’t have to come back, that the Ugandan attorneys will keep the ball rolling.  David will be checking back periodically and likely even returning to Fort Portal from Kampala for a day or two in the coming weeks.

When the 70 prisoners were gathered, David said a few words to them about where their cases were going next and where he hoped their lives would go next.  He encouraged them to look for an opportunity for a new start, and to take full advantage of redemptive second chances.  He led a group prayer as the prison Katikiro (head inmate) translated.  The Katikiro then offered some words of his own.  “Thank you for coming all the way from America to help us.  Thank you for loving us.  God bless you and may you have a safe journey home.  We pray you will come back and help more of the prisoners.”  Those weren’t his exact words, but it accurately captures his sentiment.

We took a few group pictures, then parted ways.  For David and me, this departure was somewhat emotional.  We had been involved in several such sessions with juveniles and have found ways to protect our hearts a bit.  For several of the others in our group, it was very emotional.  I suspect it will continue to be for quite some time as they reflect upon the starfish they are throwing back into the sea.

Final Group Photo

From the prison, we splintered.  Eight of our number (the Doyle/Chase clan, and four students working for the judiciary this summer) ventured south for a date they had with the mountain gorillas.  A few of the students headed back to Kampala, while David, Jessie, Sophia, and I returned to the High Court for one last meeting with the judge and the prosecution and defense attorneys.  The meeting went quite well, with everyone reaffirming their commitment to the process we set up, and with the court registrar promising to add the forty-plus additional prisoners who came forward seeking to enter into plea deals while we were there.

Time didn’t permit Jessie, Dana, Sophia and me to return to the remand home before leaving for Kampala (I hate driving at night in Uganda), but that didn’t stop us from sending David’s driver to the market for three 30-kilogram bunches of matoke (banana/potato-ish vegetable) 10 kg of beef, 20 kg of rice, 10 pineapples, 30 mangos, and 48 blowpops.  David later dropped by the remand home on his way out (after returning to the prison to meet with one more inmate), and they thanked him profusely for the feast they had just enjoyed.

The drive home sucked.  We arrived into Kampala just in time to hit the heart of traffic.  My wrong turn put us smack in the middle of the taxi park, which added another hour to our journey.  We did, however, have the best steak in town at Emin Pasha before retiring to sleep like we were dead.

Saturday was Jinja day.  Jessie, Dana, and Sophia white-water rafted on the Nile while I relaxed at the hotel and worked on a writing project I am pursuing.  They loved it.  Afterward, we had a chance to spend an hour or so with a friend in Jinja who continues to amaze me with her strength, passion, and dedication to the God she serves.  Jessie closed our time with her and her daughters with a beautiful prayer.

We ate at a local pizza joint before getting on the road for the supposedly two-hour drive back to Kampala.  On the television in the background was the Uganda v. Angola World Cup qualifying match.  Uganda came from 1-0 down late in the second half to win 2-1.  They will advance to the final ten (from which five will advance to the World Cup) from Africa if they win or draw next week against Senegal.  So why am I writing about this?  Well, the national stadium is situated between Jinja and Kampala.  The drive back at night is scary enough, but when drunken celebrating revelers are added to the pedestrian and boda boda mix, it was downright harrowing.  I don’t think Jessie, Sophia, and Dana will soon forget it.  (On the way to Jinja, we saw a boda vs. car accident occur right in front of us – the car won.  While the driver and passenger vaulted the handle bars, they landed on the grassy shoulder and didn’t appear to be seriously injured.).

On Sunday morning, Jessie, Dana, Sophia, and I drove out to pick up Henry from school.  I met briefly with his headmaster and then we set off to meet up with David for brunch.  A little over three years ago, Jessie wrote Henry a letter while he was in a juvenile prison, not sure if or when he would be released.  I was able to deliver Henry the letter during my second visit to Uganda in May of 2010.  Henry was quite touched at the time, so it was a very sweet moment when Henry and Jessie met in person for the first time.

Henry and Jessie Finally Meet

Henry is working very hard in his penultimate term of Secondary School.  The national exam to determine whether he gets into medical school (an undergraduate program) will take place in late November.  In the meanwhile, we are awaiting the judgment in the appeal I argued in March on his behalf.  A local attorney who argued a case in the same week as I did recently told me that it should be issued in the near future.

On Monday, we will be meeting with several judges and with representatives of Sixty Feet.  Several of our group then head back home on Tuesday.

On the road to Rukunjiri

On our way from Kabale to Rukunjiri, we stopped to see the view of Lake Bunyonyi.  We took this time to take a photo of our medical team.

Mobile Medical Team overlooking Lake Bunyonyi

The Gregston family is on the left.  Jessica and I are in the center.  David (our driver, clinic helper, and “big brother”) is in the back.  Dr. Joseph (our clinical officer, spiritual encourager, and comededian) is in the front.  Faith (our clinic coordinator, treasurer, and “body guard”) is on the right of me.  Kyle (OSU grad, future med school student, and photographer – thanks for sharing your awesome photos for this post!) is on the far right.

Rukunjiri is a beautiful area of rolling hills and valleys, with crops of rice, coffee beans, bananas, and maize.

Rukunjiri

We spent all day Friday and half of Saturday doing a medical clinic for the community of Bwambara (just outside Rukunjiri) at the Bwambara Community Church.  We saw 250 patients the first day and 100 patients today.  Many people were given the chance to receive the medication and spiritual care that they needed.  Some accepted Jesus as their savior as they prayed with the church pastors.

Patients waiting to be seen outside Bwambara Community Church

Today, there were far too many people to be seen in a half day, so we first saw those who had come yesterday but we didn’t have time to see, then those who were the most sick.  We would have stayed longer today, but we had accepted an invitation to a wedding reception.

Ugandan wedding cake

In addition to the sparklers coming out of the cake, they also released confetti when the bride and groom cut the cake.  If you have never been to a Ugandan wedding reception, you may not know that there are lots of speeches (like one to two hours of speeches).  They even asked Dr. Jay to give a speech, as a representative of America.  He gave a very funny speech, but sadly much of it was lost in translation.

On our way from today’s clinic back to the house where we are staying, our van overheated, so we had to stop by the side of the road.  This allowed time for the engine to cool down and for us to make some friends.

Soccer ball for school boys

The primary school boys were so excited to get a new soccer ball for their school from us, that they went running and yelling all the way down the road back to school.  A few minutes later, the director of their school came back with some of the boys to thank us for the ball.  We told them we were on our way to get ready for a wedding reception, and they actually knew the bride and groom.

Some of us took this mandatory vehicle rest stop as a chance to get some exercise.  Jill and I and some others went walking along the road.  As we walked, the people who lived in houses along the road, came out to greet us.

Walking along road from Bwambara to Rukunjiri

We only walked for about 15 minutes before the van was up and running, and picked us up.  We got back in the van just in time before it started to rain with plenty of thunder and lightning, so it was good that we got off the open road when we did.

We have enjoyed our time here in Rukunjiri and Bwambara.  We have made some good friends and will be sad to leave them tomorrow.

Flurry

Like the swarm of bees we have been since we arrived in Fort Portal, we established a hive in the breakfast room on Thursday morning.  Flash drives earned their name by darting in and out of computers as the final summary briefs moved down the edit, proofread, print, collate, staple assembly line.  By about 9:30 a.m., we had about 35 final briefs – one copy for the prosecution, one for the defense, and one for us.

A couple groups headed back to the prison to interview the three prisoners whose police files had finally arrived in town the prior afternoon.  The rest stayed behind to continue preparing the balance of the briefs.

One prisoner became emotional when telling his story.  While his name was on the cause list, there was no police file.  He reported to Sophia and her group that court sessions have been coming and going and he is getting left behind because his file has been lost by the police.  Fortunately, he has retained a copy of his indictment, so the group had at least some idea where to begin.  He said he was so thankful to finally be able to tell his story.

After lunch, Judge John Doyle, Professor Carol Chase, David, and I met up at the courthouse with the prosecuting and defense attorneys to begin the process of plea negotiation.  My experience in prior such meetings in the juvenile arena counseled in favor of limiting the number of Westerners in the room – this needs to be a conversation by and among Ugandans in order for this process to take hold here.  Since John and Carol had held a plea bargaining seminar for the attorneys on Monday, and since David is a court-appointed mediator here in Uganda, we thought it best to limit our contingent to these three.

The meeting lasted about three hours and about half a dozen cases were discussed, several of which reached plea deals.  Most importantly, for the first time in the adult realm, the Ugandans held a guided discussion about the merits of criminal cases in advance of trial.  This was a big step and promises to gain momentum from here.

While the plea discussions were going on, most of the rest of us ventured back to the juvenile remand home so those who hadn’t been there the day before had the chance to meet the kids.  On the way there, Sophia, Dana, Jessie, and I stopped at a local outdoor market to pump up the new soccer ball we had brought for them, and to purchase some food to supplement their monotonous daily diet of beans and posho (corn flour mixed with boiled water).  We bought as many bananas, tomatoes, onions, and avocado as we could carry.  As we were crossing the street back to the car, I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye and heard Sophia sternly rebuffing a slightly built, but heavily persistent, Ugandan man.  He had hold of her arm and was pawing at her bag.  His countenance betrayed a distinct lack of marbles rolling around in his head.  A few local Ugandans started yelling at the man and I joined them in approaching him menacingly.  We got things broken up in pretty short order, at least in time to keep Sophia from taking him down – she wasn’t having none of his business.  He then chose to stalk me as I put the booty into the boot of the car.  I gave him a banana and he went away happy.

At the remand home, the kids cheered with delight when they saw the new ball, and were excited about the food as well.  After we went around the room for introductions (the new members of our group wanted to meet the kids), we had a ball presentation ceremony, which was their idea.  On behalf of the United States, law student Katie Coy presented the ball to their captain, who was flanked by his co-captain and the warden.

Ball Presentation Ceremony

During the game, I had the opportunity to travel with the warden to a nearby fuel station and, courtesy of Sixty Feet, to fill the tank of their van in order to transport the two children home who were released two weeks ago, but were waiting for fuel money.  I trust that the funds would be used for fuel, but gifts in kind are always preferable to cash transfers.  We were promised the boys would be taken home Friday, but we have since learned that the probation officers in their villages were at a seminar, so the resettlement was delayed until Monday.  (Earlier, we had the opportunity to tell the two boys in person that they would see their families very soon.  Needless to say, they were quite pleased).

We gave the kids the choice of how to divide into teams for an epic match.  There was no hesitation – Uganda Cranes vs. American Eagles.  Joining the American squad were a couple Uganda Christian Law Students and Sandra, who is John Niemeyer’s Ugandan/British/Soon-to-be-American . . . ? girlfriend of two years (that is how long they have been dating, not her age).  Given my advance aged, and given my aching joints and muscles from the prior day’s game, I volunteered to be the photographer.

The match started out relatively evenly, though the ball seemed to be near our goal most of the time.  It was flurry of feet, half bare and half shoe shod.  Within moments, it was clear who the three best players on the field were – Harrison Doyle (Carol and John’s son who played college soccer), Ana Carinena (2L student who played college and professional soccer), and Meredith Doyle (3L who also played college soccer).  The problem is that the enthusiasm of their supported cast on the American side far outpaced their abilities.

Pre-Game Pepp Talk

 

We struck first on a breakaway, as Harrison beautifully crossed the ball to his sister Meredith, who blasted it past the helpless keeper.

Meredith, Just Before Initial Goal

That was the last time we led.  They equalized, then went ahead 2-1.  Ana evened the score with left-footed half volley, but they eventually wore us down, beating us 5-2.

Ana Establishes Her Dominance

Niemeyer Finds an Alternate Use for his Head in Uganda

Harrison's Fancy Footwork (and yes, I was on the field taking pictures)

To say a great time was had by all is rather like saying 2L Stephen White likes carbohydrates.  (He has earned a reputation this week as a world-class carb hound).

After showering up, we ventured outside of town to the hotel/resort where Justice Chibita stays when he is town.  His family stays four hours away in Kampala, and he goes home on the weekends.  Earlier in the week, Justice Chibita had invited the entire team (American lawyers, Pepperdine law students, Ugandan lawyers (on both sides), Ugandan law students, and court staff) for a farewell celebratory dinner.  The food and location were idyllic; the company and camaraderie were even better.  As is customary in Uganda, the dinner ended with a series of speeches.  On our side, David, Judge Doyle, 2L student Nora Lopopolo, and I spoke.  On behalf of the Ugandans, the head prosecutor, one of the defense lawyers, and Justice Chibita spoke.  We all expressed our gratitude to one another, and promised to continue this partnership on behalf of the imprisoned in Uganda.

For her part, Nora closed by reading a prayer written by Oscar Romero that had become special to her on an earlier trip to Guatemala.  This prayer epitomizes what we are trying to do here, and has become special to us all.  I will close with it as well:

“It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work. Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith.

No confession brings perfection.

No pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.

No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.

We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.

We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.”

“We’re doing this because we love you.”

“We’re doing this because we love you. This is the best thing for you. You’ll thank us later.”

 

I never REALLY understood what that meant. I mean, I knew it wasn’t just my parents’ way of justifying their decisions. But, I didn’t understand what they were really trying to say to me.

I assumed that this trip would teach me something, but I wasn’t quite sure what. Currently, I am relative-hopping through Southern/Central California. Throughout my journey, I have experienced many things that have made me think. So far, I (accidentally) stepped into a dirty pond, snuck my younger cousin into a restroom* at a fancy restaurant, went to a drive-in movie, and went barefoot in a public* restroom.

A few times, the kids will make a wrong choice and I will help correct it. For example, one of my cousins will cry when they lose the game Joshua and I are playing with them. After encouraging the child and making sure they know that no one can win every time, I start to think. What if I was like that? What if I was the one throwing a tantrum “just because”. It really makes one start to wonder. During these times, Joshua will reassure me that I was not indeed like this, or at least not a lot. 🙂

After dinner, we had some dessert. Most of the kids had popsicles, while one switched off taking bites of his aunt and uncle’s ice cream bars. Will was growing tired of only being allowed to take small bites, so he did what most kids would do; he asked for one of his own. At almost the same time, the nearest aunt and uncle told him no, and that it would give him a tummy ache. Here come the waterworks!

Will tried to run away and pout, but I took his hand and sat him down. Below is out conversation.

“Will? Why are you crying?”

“They wouldn’t let me have my own ice cream. I can finish my own!”

“I know you can, Will. But do you know why they wouldn’t give you your own?”

“Why?!!”

Because they love you. It would give you a tummy ache if you ate a whole one. They know what’s best for you.” (Sound familiar??)

“Okay…”

So, you see, I was acting a lot like my parents! Now, it was my turn to play that card. Sometimes, we think we know what’s best for us. But, we really don’t. Guess what? Sometimes, even our parents don’t know what’s best for us. The only person who can really be sure is God.

“For the Lord knows the way of the righteous,  but the way of the wicked will perish.”

-Pslam 1:6

 *The words “fancy restaurant” require the use of the word restroom as opposed to bathroom.

*I do not completely neglect hygiene; we were at a water park. That justifies my choice, right? 🙂

Love Always,

Jennifer Gash