Taking the Leap (of Faith)

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Today encapsulated in a microcosm our Ugandan experience thus far.  The day began with the figurative becoming the literal, and ended with an inspiring example of someone who jumped well before we did and dove much deeper.

It took my colleague Jay Milbrandt the better part of a year to convince me to join a Pepperdine Global Justice trip to Uganda.  I have never been good at delving into the unknown.  But since it was only for two weeks, the short- and long-term risks seemed minimal.  Over the next eighteen months of short visits, God opened my heart to the idea of a longer stay.  He did the same for my family, and so after much prayer and deliberation, we made the leap.

Those who know me know how deathly afraid of heights I am.  Like many of my phobias and weaknesses, I can trace my fear back to a single event.  In 1986, I went with my friend Seneca to Austin to watch my older brother John Pole Vault in the Texas Relays.  While we were there, we ventured over to San Antonio and went to the top of the Space Needle.  Up to that point, I had never been afraid of heights.  So I walked over to the edge and looked down.  Instantly, the ground seemed to rush up at me and I turned into pudding.  I slinked back and sat on the floor against the wall shaking and sweating.  Since then, I get weak and anxious even when I see someone else up high.  I can’t even look down from a fourth-story window without growing faint.  This, of course, provides numerous opportunities for jokes at my expense and stunts aimed at freaking me out.  I am an easy mark.

Yesterday, the Gashes and the Gregstons (our Twin Family) drove to Jinja, the source of the Nile River.  The plan was for all of us to go white water rafting, swim at the pool, and hang out with Katie Davis and her family.  (Thursday was a national holiday in Uganda, so we decided to make it a four-day weekend).  After we arrived at our hotel yesterday, we tracked down a brochure for a rafting company to look into making reservations for the next day.  The brochure also indicated that the same company offered bungee jumping over the Nile from a 145-foot platform.  When we called, we learned that the ten of us could go rafting at 10:00 a.m., and those who wanted to do so, could bungee jump before we set adrift on the Nile.

My impulse to directly confront, and try to conquer, my fear of heights came and went like a flash of lightning – big and brilliant when it hits, then immediately gone.  My impulse didn’t even have the delayed thunder.  What did come were the taunts and jeers from my family.  “Dad won’t do it – he’s too scared.”  My comeback reply was devastating.  “No I’m not, I just don’t wanna do it.”  Simply devastating.  Not.

Over the course of the evening and into this morning, I did some thinking and reflecting.  Prior to coming to Africa, Jessica was deathly afraid of needles.  Yet she now draws blood from HIV- and Malaria-positive patients.  I swore (for fear) I would never drive in Uganda, but now I drive all over the city and drove the 80 miles to Jinja.  Prior to leaving our hotel this morning, I decided that it was time to face my fears, but I didn’t tell anyone.  Instead, I let Joshua and Jessica continue to taunt me.  When we arrived and saw how high the platform was, Joshua’s taunting ceased and Jessica backed off some, I think because she saw me get weak again.  When it came to time to pay, Joshua told me that he didn’t want to do it anymore, but I bought three tickets anyway.  (Jennifer is too young, and Joline is still dealing with some vertigo issues).  The Gregstons got four (Jayne was too young).

Joshua was still pretty convinced that I couldn’t go through with it, and I think he assumed that he could back out if I did, so he didn’t protest too much . . . until we climbed the scrillion stairs to the top of the platform.  The plan was for Jay (41) and Jared (12) to go first on a tandem jump, then Jill (41) would go solo, then I would go solo, then Joshua (14) would go solo, then Jessica and Jake (both 16) would tandem.  After Jay and Jared jumped first (with no small amount of consternation on Jared’s part) and didn’t die (though they hit the water pretty hard before bouncing back up), I relaxed a bit.  Joshua reacted differently, though I think he still thought I would wuss out.

Jill’s solo jump was a thing of beauty (though she was quite nervous before takeoff), and it convinced me that I could actually do it.  It convinced Joshua, however, that he couldn’t.  Accordingly, we shifted gears and I decided that Joshua and I would tandem.  As we got strapped to the bungees, I had numerous flashes of panic, but maintained full bladder and bowel control.  But when we hopped and scooted to the edge (ankles bound pretty tightly), the internal muscles threatened to relax in ways that would prove quite fragrant and embarrassing.  Fortunately, I had evacuated my storage tanks (twice) between the time I decided to jump and climbing the tower.

Letting go of the bar above our heads was one of the most psychologically difficult things I have ever done.  We just stood there on the edge of the platform in a tight father-son embrace and listened as they counted us down.  “Three . . . two . . . one.”

Hanging On

 

Fall.

 

Free Falling

 

Touch.

 

Touching the Nile

Rebound.

If we had time before rafting, I would have jumped again.  Alone.  At least I think I would have.

As alluded to earlier, this mirrors our decision to walk out to the edge, let go of any safety supports, cling tightly to each other (and to God), and then fall.  We feel like we have done lots of touching.  And we are ready for another rebound.

I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we keep jumping back into Uganda in the coming years.  It is exhilarating and teaching us in whole new ways to embrace each other and to embrace the One who protects and sustains us.

Tomorrow, I will write about our wonderful afternoon today with Katie Davis – an impressive young woman whose life (and book) is inspiring tens of thousands around the world.  We are thrilled to have the chance to participate in her ministry tomorrow.  Here is a picture of our kids with hers after an afternoon of swimming together.

Gashes, Gregstons, and Davises

Juvenile Justice Proposal . . . Approved

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Yesterday was another good day in Uganda.  We have been having quite a few of those recently, and we are thankful for the many prayers offered on our behalf and on behalf of those with whom we are interacting on a daily basis.

For the past several months, I have been working with Shane Michael on a proposal for the judiciary to streamline and expedite the juvenile justice system here in Uganda.  This is one of the two primary projects I am focusing on during my six months here.  Shane is one of my former students at Pepperdine who is serving as a Nootbaar Fellow in Uganda for one year.  While Shane is embedded with the Commercial Court, he hopes to become a prosecutor in the United States so he has a real interest in assisting with the development of the criminal justice system here.

My interest in the development of the criminal justice system in Uganda began during my first trip to Uganda in January of 2010.  At that time, I came with Jay Milbrandt (Pepperdine’s Global Justice Program Director), and two alums (David Barrett and Ray Boucher) on a project with Bob Goff’s Restore International to try to help 21 kids who had been languishing in a Ugandan Remand Home (prison) in Masindi awaiting trial.  That is where I met Henry.

Since then, I have been part of two other teams of American lawyers, partnering on the most recent trip with Ugandan lawyers and law students, to prepare the cases for two additional groups of imprisoned children at the Naguru Remand Home in the capital city of Kampala.  On each trip, we refined our processes and briefing templates to make our work more efficient and useful.  Accordingly, the proposal Shane and I have been working on has the benefit of first-hand experience within the system.

Uganda’s Children Act mandates that juveniles (ages 13-17) accused of capital crimes (those eligible for the death penalty if committed by adults) shall not be held for more than six months before their trials.  Unfortunately, a combination of a lack of resources, structure, and internal checks and balances causes this time limit to be routinely exceeded.  Several of the juveniles (including Henry) we have worked to free had been on remand for two years or more before their trials.

Our proposal involves taking fifteen of the juveniles in the Naguru Remand Home who are charged with capital offenses and using their cases as a test run to demonstrate that justice can be delivered much more quickly and efficiently.  This proposal was ready to go within a few days of my arrival in Uganda in late January.  Unfortunately, the timing of leave (vacation) and travel schedules of key players on the judiciary caused the official presentation of the proposal to be delayed until yesterday.  We felt so good about the likelihood of acceptance of our proposal that we went ahead and assembled all of the necessary players to implement the proposal and were able to convince them to commit to participating once it got approved.

We first met with the Ministry of Gender, Labour, and Social Development.  Uganda’s Remand Homes fall within the jurisdiction of this Ministry, and I had previously met with the officer who directly oversees the Remand Homes.  We pitched our proposal to her, and she readily agreed that our proposal should be adopted and implemented.  She even proposed the aspect that eventually became Phase 4, which is discussed below.

We then met with the Department of Public Prosecutions (including the Director himself).  This was the most critical meeting of all because the DPP’s procedures and practices would be most directly affected by our proposal.  We were pleased that the Director of the DPP embraced the proposal and assigned two of his prosecutors to work directly with us.

Next came the Uganda Christian Lawyer’s Fraternity.  UCLF has two aspects.  First, it is a professional organization of practicing Christian lawyers who voluntarily donate their time on a pro bono basis.  The second aspect involves a group of four full-time lawyers who do pro bono legal aid work.  This second group is largely funded by an organization in the UK.  The President of UCLF is the lawyer with whom I have been working on Henry’s appeal, and he was eager to connect us with the Director of UCLF’s full-time group.  I had actually worked with this Director last summer when I was here with some other lawyers working on preparing cases at the Naguru Remand Home.  That time, we had recruited the UCLF to work with us on those cases so that we could eventually work ourselves into obsolescence, which needs to be the goal of foreign countries and organizations as they seek to train the Ugandans to deliver these services themselves.  As we expected, UCLF was eager to join in, and their representation of the kids would be provided at no charge.

Next, I met with my friend Brian Dennison at Uganda Christian University, who is an American lawyer living in Uganda and directing the Clinical Program (among other things) at UCU’s law school.  During our last juvenile justice trip, not only had we included UCLF attorneys, but we had also recruited Ugandan law students to serve as the interpreters for the juvenile prisoners for whom English was not comfortable (about half of them).  These UCU law students not only interpreted for us, but they also materially contributed to the preparation of these cases for trial, working alongside Pepperdine law students in a partnership that benefitted everyone.  As expected, UCU law students are hungry for practical and meaningful opportunities to work on real cases, and UCU and UCLF have worked together in the past.

The next piece in this puzzle was Naguru’s warden and the probation and social welfare officers who work directly with the children, not only caring for their physical needs, but also providing crucial logistical support for moving the juveniles through the criminal justice process.  Before any child can be sentenced in Uganda (whether the child pleads guilty or is found guilty after a trial), the probation and social welfare officer must first prepare a Pre-Sentence report.  Every day this report is delayed is one more day the juvenile must spend incarcerated.  Accordingly, it was important for us to get the Naguru officials to sign off on the timeline we were proposing.  Since we had gotten to know all of these officials during our prior visits, they were eager to adopt our proposal.  They also confirmed that the timelines we proposed are reasonable and obtainable, assuming they had the funds to be able to make the trips to the villages from which these children came.

This, of course, implicates the final piece of the proposal – the funding.  As mentioned in prior posts, the cost associated with moving people and paper in this country is often the biggest hurdle to getting anything accomplished.  Such expenditures must not only be approved in advance, but the funds must be disbursed in advance also.  No one has a government (or private) credit card whereby charged can be incurred and then later reimbursed.  And the red tape necessary to get these funds in advance injects huge delays (and opportunities for corruption) into the process.  Enter Sixty Feet.

I have written about this American organization previously, but in a nutshell, they are a group of Americans from the Southeast who have a heart for the imprisoned youth of Uganda.  And they have put their time and treasures toward serving these children.  I encourage you to read more about them here and to consider supporting their efforts.  For the past 18 months or so, Sixty Feet has been providing physical, medical, psychological, and spiritual care for the children at the five Remand Homes in Uganda (among other things).  Through some avenues that God opened up, Joline and I had the opportunity to spend some time with a couple of the principals of Sixty Feet before we left the United States to come here.  This friendship has grown into partnership, and Sixty Feet has agreed to fund the costs of the pilot program.  Huge answered prayer.

Accordingly, as of about two weeks ago, we had all the pieces in place to roll out the pilot program, save for the most important one – the judiciary.  Shane and I created a written proposal, a Power Point presentation, and the five Forms that will be used in implementing the proposal and distributed them to the members of the Criminal Division of the High Court.  After a few preliminary discussions and meetings, the final decision-making meeting was yesterday.  It couldn’t have gone better.  The court appropriately made some minor modifications and tweaks to the timeline and to one of the forms, and then approved us to go forward.

We have now scheduled a meeting for late next week of all of the participants so that everyone can meet each other and develop healthy working relationships as we kick this off.  We have also brought in UNICEF for this next meeting, so they can observe the pilot program and potentially integrate it elsewhere.  They are also a potential funding source down the road.

So what is the proposal?  It is called J-FASTER – The Judiciary Facilitating Access to Swift Trial and Efficient Resolution.  Kinda corny, but we hope the FASTER part can have some subliminal effect.  It is four phases.

 

 

 

 

Phase One is the Investigatory Phase.  This will run from April 1 to May 1.  During this phase, the cases that will be included in this J-FASTER program will be selected.  Fortunately, this has already been done.  The DPP lawyers (prosecutors) have already accompanied us to the Remand Home and selected the fifteen oldest cases – some more than 18 months old (a travesty for those children).  Also in Phase One, the UCLF lawyer, the UCU law students, and the probation and social welfare officers will meet with the children and prepare a summary of the children’s background, including education levels, family status, and get the children’s version of the events.

Phase Two is the Evaluative Phase.  This will run from May 1 to June 1.  At the beginning of this phase, the DPP will turn over the police report and other evidence it has against the child to the UCLF defense lawyer.  (This disclosure of evidence against a criminal defendant prior to trial is a critical change to existing custom and practice).  During this phase, the DPP will decide whether it has enough evidence against the child to proceed with the case.  Also during this phase, the UCLF lawyer will confer again with the child to prepare for the resolution of the case.  And of critical importance, during this phase, the probation and social welfare officer will travel to the child’s home area (often hundreds of miles away) and begin preparing the Pre-Sentence Report so that there is no delay at the end of the case.

Phase Three is the Resolution Phase.  This will run from June 1 to July 1.  At the beginning of this phase, there will be a very important session with the judge.  At that session, one of four things will happen.  First, the DPP may decide not to proceed with the case and the charges can be dismissed.  Second, the child may decide to plead guilty and then proceed to sentencing (where the children will get credit for time served).  Third, DPP and the UCLF lawyer could reach a plea bargain, which we will strongly encourage so that we can model how plea bargaining works for adult cases as well.  And fourth, everyone could decide that there will need to be a trial.  Under this proposal, the trial will have to occur within thirty days.  Furthermore, the proposal calls for sentencing within seven days.

Phase Four is the Resettlement Phase.  In Uganda, when a child commits a crime, it is treated as a crime against the community.  This, in turn, means that in order for the child to be accepted back into the community, there needs to be some closure.  There are village elders (called Local Council members) who can work with the probation and social welfare officers to facilitate this resettlement process.  This happens quite inconsistently, but we have built it into our proposal and the Sixty Feet funding will make this possible.

Sorry this is so long, but I have been almost completely silent about this work until we got the final approval.

Off to Jinja for whitewater rafting and bungee jumping in the morning.  Lots of pictures to come.

Trip to Mubende

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The Gregston family and I left mid-afternoon on last Tuesday and drove about 3 hours to Mubende. After the first night, we fell into a routine of getting up early, doing a devotional, eating breakfast, working at a “clinic,” going back to the hotel and showering, eating dinner, and going to bed a few hours later. Thankfully, one of the nurses that came with us turned out to be a lab technician, so Jake, Jared, and I unearthed our inner pharmacist and no helpless Ugandans were subjected to a blood lab run by children (yet).

The first day, Jake and I helped out with registration. Big mistake. Not only could we not speak the language, we couldn’t even read the Acholi names that our translator wrote out for us to copy onto forms. Then we would take their weight, hand out a de-worming pill, and write down the patient number. Did I mention Jake and I can’t count? Several hours and many butchered names and misnumbered patients later, Jake and I swore to avoid registration at all costs.

On days three, four, and five, Jake, Jared, and I worked in the pharmacy. It’s a pretty fast paced job and we’ve had to learn multiple names in several varieties of short hand for each medicine prescribed. We also learned how to read short hand dosages and decide a dose based on weight and age. It was a job that was sometimes challenging and overwhelming, but one that I really enjoyed. I’m discovering that while my deficiency in simple math makes a lot of pharmacy work difficult, I’m becoming increasingly interested in medicine—a door I shut years ago and I’m now wondering if God has reopened.

On the second day, we faced a loss. A three year old girl came to the clinic very sick and was instructed to go home and eat and come back in a couple hours to be taken to the hospital to be given medicines that we didn’t have with us. David, our main driver, took her to the hospital and when he got there, there was not a doctor or nurse to be found. She died within the hour. In Jake’s words “we lost and we didn’t even know we were losing.” But as David told us, only God can see what could have happened. We can only see what did. And we saw the very next day a pastor sick with what had killed the little girl the day before—only this time we had the right medications for Dr. Jay and the nurses to save his life. Even so, it’s so hard to see how easily the little girl could have been saved if only given the right medications. It makes me think of how many people we’ll go by in life who might have so easily been saved from spiritual death but no one ever gave them the right opportunities. Our God is a just God, but I don’t want to get to the end of my life and realize that someone only got half a chance at life to the full because they were lacking something I could have given them.

But before we found out what had happened to the little girl, I spent some time with the local children. The girls especially wanted to talk to me and ask me questions. They wanted me to tell them two names so I told them “Jessica Mae” which they changed to “Jesca Mary.” They told me things like how old they were and how many brothers and sisters they had. Then all the children sat me down on a bench and showed me their traditional dancing and sang songs that they had learned in school while they drummed on large drums that I think were made from goat skin. They sang about how Jesus loved them and it was amazing to hear the incredible purity and beauty in their voices.

 

The next day, our last day in Little Orange, I was talking to Jackson, who is 18 and speaks pretty good English. We had all been feeling a little off because of the little girl’s death and a little overwhelmed from the scores of patients and still having to turn some away. But then Jackson turned to me and said “Actually, we will not be forgetting you.” Fiona (one of the little girls from the day before) walked up to me then and handed me a slip of paper with her name and grade on it. She said something to Jackson and he translated for me, “She is saying she is loving you.” That really really got to me. I’m not sure why, but it was something about knowing we had made a difference to that one. I might have served hundreds of patients, but I made a difference to Jackson and Fiona. I think sometimes I can’t see the trees for the forest, and I’m guessing that’s how a lot of us are when it comes to doing God’s work. We get so caught up in throwing as many starfish in as we can that we forget to admire the beauty of each one.

Precious Preschoolers

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We spent today at the Africa Renewal Ministries Early Childhood Development Program, where young preschoolers are educated, cared for, and loved upon.  Today we focused on health check-ups for the one and two-year olds.  About half of them had runny noses, but they were otherwise healthy.  These precious children live in the Gaba community (just outside Kampala).  They were selected by Africa Renewal to attend this school because they are in great need.  We were impressed with the care they receive there, Monday through Friday, 7:30 AM to 4:00 PM.

Just take a look at these faces and you will see why it was hard to leave after spending the day with them.

Adorable two-year-olds who greeted us

Joshua making friends

Breakfast Time: Porridge, banana, & multi-vitamin

Playtime with Jessica

Say Ahhh! Dr. Jay examines the kids

Jennifer with little Sharifa (who has burns on most of her body)

Joline and friends

Naptime: After lunch and a bath, children are changed from uniforms into clothes to go home at end of day

 

 

Reunions

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This is going to be a big week for me in Uganda.  I have been purposefully keeping an internet lid on the biggest part of my substantive work; I hope I can lift that lid this week.  I am meeting with the judges in the Criminal Division of the High Court on Tuesday as they are considering the proposal that my colleague (and former student, Shane Michael) and I have pitched to them.  I hope to be able provide the full details by the end of the week.  I would be grateful for your prayers on this.  If the proposal is granted, it would mean a bit of a paradigm shift in the juvenile justice process here in Uganda, and much for the better.

Henry’s first week of school came to an end this week and things are continuing to go very well.  In fact, I drove out to see him for a few minutes today to deliver some additional clothes he learned he needs and some additional school supplies.  Not only was it a good week for Henry, but it was a good week for his school – the final S6 national exam results (the test Henry will take in two years – he is just starting S5) were released, and his school finished first in the entire country.  While this school has enjoyed the reputation for the being the strongest in Science, the first place overall finish was a huge boost.  We continue to be thankful that God opened this door for Henry.

And speaking of Henry, we got an unexpected bit of surprise news when we learned that my little brother’s wife’s father (Jerry’s father-in-law, Kelly’s dad) has requested that we purchase two piglets for Henry’s family and name them Bryan (for Kelly’s dad) and Brent (Bryan’s brother).  We notified both Henry and his sister, and they were thrilled. I am going to add some Mobile Money to my phone and send them the money to buy the pigs.  (If you don’t know what Mobile Money is, then read my previous post on the subject).

This past week also brought a couple of long-overdue reunions.  I had gotten to know Jesse Rudy, the Kampala director of IJM, Uganda, during several prior trips to Uganda, and we hadn’t yet reconnected.  This reunion happened at a really cool restaurant as we discussed a really cool opportunity with other really cool people.  I had met the Dean of Regent Law School a few times previously at Christian Legal Society gatherings, but we had never really had a chance to talk on a deeper level.  That changed on Thursday night.  Dean Brauch, his wife, and another Regent Law Professor came to Kampala to meet with another one of my friends, Brian Dennison, an American lawyer who works with Uganda Christian University.  The purpose of the trip was to explore the possibility of a Regent/UCU partnership the result of which would be that Regent students (and likely students from other schools) would come to Uganda beginning next summer to study and do internships.

We met at a restaurant that had some serious game.  Serious game.  I ordered the platter with Kob (antelope), Wildebeest (beat’s me), crocodile, and ostrich.  Unfortunately, there had been a run on crocodile and ostrich that evening, so they were substituted out for some other leftovers from a lion kill of some sort.  All of it was excellent.  The conversation and discussion about connecting American law students with opportunities to serve Uganda’s legal system was outstanding.  I will be praying that this partnership comes to pass.  I am confident that if it does, there will be an opportunity for Pepperdine students to join in the fun.

This next week will also bring another reunion with someone I have only met once, but who our family (and Twin Family) are eager to meet – Katie Davis.  More on this amazing young woman later in the week.

Finally, I have been growing increasingly comfortable driving here.  So much so, that yesterday I relaxed a bit too much.  As I was traveling down a one-way street, I turned right onto a two-way street.  I hugged the sad-excuse-for-a-curb and continued up the right side of the street.  Unfortunately, a matatu (local mini-van taxi) also preferred that side of the street from the other direction.  We both slammed on the brakes and disaster was narrowly averted.  On the bright side, I think I now know how to say “Great American Satan” in Luganda.  All in all, I consider this to be a net positive.

Mobile Money

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As is the case for all developing countries, Ugandan is a cash-driven society.  The lack of widespread use of credit cards creates numerous challenges for all sectors of society, including the judiciary.  In the United States, the court system can purchase supplies and pay all sorts of suppliers and vendors via government credit cards and/or a system of invoicing.  The same is not true in Uganda.

There are no government credit cards and virtually every purchase is a cash transaction, most of which don’t usually generate receipts.  Consequently, opportunities for corruption are widely available and too often utilized.  This, in turn, leads to the creation of systems that cause immense delay and incredible inefficiency.  For example, many of the courts in Uganda operate via “session” calendaring.  Criminal cases are not heard on a rolling basis, but rather in “sessions.”  This means that forty cases are set for a session that will occur over a two or three month time period.  A judge may have two or three sessions a year.  This is solely driven by the fact that the cash to pay for the session has to be requisitioned in advance.  The cash is largely to pay for witnesses to come to court (who otherwise won’t or can’t afford to come), to pay for fuel for the transportation for the buses to bring the defendants from prison to court, and to pay for the transportation of files from the police station or from one court to another.

Interestingly, this incredibly inefficient and antiquated system of having to pay for everything by cash has combined with the ubiquity of cell phones to create a money movement innovation that is actually somewhat ahead of the West.  This innovation is called Mobile Money and it is rapidly gaining popularity in Uganda.  In fact, my prediction is that Uganda will skip credit cards altogether.  (A similar thing happened in telecommunications – cell phones became affordable before infrastructure was in place for landlines.  Accordingly, virtually no houses and not many businesses have landlines, which is where the US is clearly heading).

Mobile Money operates off of the cell phone platform (MTN is the biggest player in the cell phone market and got an early jump on Mobile Money relative to its competition).  Here is how it works: a customer will take cash to an authorized Mobile Money dealer (there are tons of them around within easy reach).  The dealer creates a Mobile Money account for the customer and places the amount of the deposit on the customer’s account (minus a very modest fee).  The customer then merely needs to input a passcode into the program on the phone to get access to the money.  At that point, Mobile Money works just like PayPal – the most popular system in the US for moving money around via the internet.

Mobile Money

With the increasing use of Mobile Money by regular folks, an increasing number of businesses are accepting Mobile Money as a form of payment for goods and services.  One person with a Mobile Money account can immediately transfer money to another account holder with the stroke of a few keys on the phone.  Accordingly, borrowing a few bucks (or shillings) from a friend is more easily accomplished via text message than it is to reach into a wallet, remove the bills, hand them to someone else, who then puts the bills into her purse.

Old fashioned theft mechanisms of purse of wallet snatching may quickly become a thing of the past as cash may soon be unnecessary.  (Phone theft is pointless because the money can only be accessed with a password and the account can be frozen in a matter of minutes via a Mobile Money dealer).  I can imagine a day soon where beggars on the street will be holding up signs with their Mobile Money account numbers.

In a very real sense, then, Uganda may actually be closer to going totally cashless than the US.

P.S.  Henry just called from his school and reported that his first three days have gone exceedingly well and he has “very many” friends.  Thanks for all the prayers on his behalf.

Chicks in the House

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Lots of chicks.  Lots and lots of chicks.  Overrunning the house.  They barely sleep.  All they do is eat.  And they are pooping everywhere.  Next week, they will be kicked out of the house and made to fend for themselves in the small barn behind the house.

Last week, Henry’s family had 240 three-day-old chickens delivered to their house.  They bought these chickens with the remainder of the cow money that we left with them the prior week.  If you have no idea what I am talking about, click here.

This past weekend, Henry told me about the delivery and how excited his family was.  We have been quite heartened to hear that the reaction of their neighbors has been uniformly positive.  We had been concerned that resentment or jealously would arise, but the fact that Henry’s family had (and then unjustly lost) the cows and chickens has completely mitigated this risk.

Here is a video Henry took with his phone of the chickens, which are living in their house for their first week.

Unrelatedly, I got some really cool business cards this week.  My good friend Bob would call them “bitchin’,” but I don’t use that kind of language.  At least as far as my mom knows.

New Business Card

A Mother’s Heart

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Do you know that empty feeling you get when someone leaves?  It might be from a friend moving away, or a child going off to summer camp, or a sibling leaving for college.  Well, I have that feeling tonight.  When I look around our apartment, nearly everything I see reminds me of Henry.  I see the deck of cards scattered on the table where he was teaching the kids card tricks, I see the school supply list that we spent all day Saturday shopping to check off, I see the school calendar from his new boarding school, I see the rice krispy treats he made with the kids, I see the leftover pancakes in the refrigerator from breakfast this morning, I see the sewing kit which I used to mend his shirt before church, I see the band-aid wrapper in my purse from the cut he got from carrying his heavy metal foot locker into school today, I see his cell phone that we must keep for him because they are not permitted at school.

Henry playing cards with Gash & Gregston kids.

 

Henry making rice krispy treats with Joshua & Jennifer.

 

Henry with Gash family at church.

My heart is sad because we had to say goodbye to Henry today, but my heart is glad because we have been praying for this day for so long.  As my husband and I attended the parents meeting today, with Henry sitting between us, we were so proud to act as his guardians.  I should not have been surprised that we were the only mzungus (white people) in the room, but we tried to blend in as best as we could.  Henry has wonderful parents, but it would have been difficult for them to make the journey to Kampala and take him to school.  There were many supplies that needed to be purchased, packed, and delivered to the school.  We really felt like we were taking our first child to college.  It was great practice for when we will be taking Jessica to college in a couple of years.

Jim & Joline taking Henry to school.

If all goes according to plan, Henry will study physics, chemistry, and biology at this school for two years, then go on to study medicine in a university.  His dream is to become a doctor, and I believe he will do it.  Henry is smart, hard-working, and has wonderful people skills.  I think he will be a great doctor someday.  It will be hard for us not to be able to see him until March on visitation day, but we will be praying for him daily.  I know God has a plan for Henry.  I am just happy to get to watch that plan unfold.  So, the joy that fills my heart is covering that empty feeling I have from saying goodbye.

 

Back to School Day

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On Friday afternoon, my driver (Sherlock) and I went to pick up the letter that would supposedly say I was allowed to drive the government car I had been carried around in for the past four weeks.  But when I opened the letter, the first thing I saw was my score – 68 of 100: Pre-Driving – 20 of 30, Driving Theory (I kid you not) – 18 of 30, Technical Proficiency – 30 of 40.

“Um, what is passing?” I nervously asked Sherlock.

“50 of 100,” came his reassuring reply.  “I got a 75 after driving here for ten years.”

Good thing their expectations are so low.  (Unfortunately, the low expectations are not limited to driving skills).  My sense from being on the road is that most people behind the wheel would score in high 30s in Technical Proficiency, but in the low single digits in Driving Theory.

Late Friday afternoon, Henry arrived on the bus from Hoima and met me at the mall.  Joline and the kids had spent the afternoon at a craft market with Sara Ribbens on her last day in Uganda – she flew home with her kids on Friday night (huge answered prayer) – so they met us there also.

Since we needed to drop Henry off at school on Sunday afternoon, we had quite a bit of shopping to do because his school is a boarding school and almost everything on the “Required” list he didn’t have.  We grabbed some low hanging fruit, and then ate at the Indian food restaurant in the mall.  Henry had never had Indian food before, and neither had my other two kids (Jessica was still out of town doing medical mission work with the Gregstons).  Everyone loved it, especially both kinds of goat we ordered.  We decided to hit the shopping hard in the morning.

I had previously decided that I was going to try to avoid driving at night, if possible, so it was not ideal when my first time behind the wheel with my family was after dark.  Fortunately, all went well.

In the morning, Henry joined us for our daily exercise routine – he can now operate a treadmill like a gym instructor.  After showers, our shopping spree kicked off, at least for some of us.  Joline and the kids (plus Henry, minus Jessica) dove in while I met with an American named Holly who has encountered some difficulties with finalizing her legal guardianship of twin three year-old girls and has been in Uganda for six months now.  I hope I can be of assistance to her, but the situation is a bit different from that of Sara.

Over the next six hours, we got Henry the following items:

Mattress and bedding

Towels

Three pairs of shoes

Socks

Underwear

Pajamas

Biology book

Soap

Toothbrush

Toothpaste

Iron

Dishes

Utensils

Paring knife

Thermos

Mosquito Net

Alarm clock

Cleaning supplies

Laundry basin and soap

Calculator

Notebooks

Pens and pencils

T-shirts

Swimsuit

Apron

10-liter Jerry Can

And some other assorted items

I made it back and forth to the mall hitting only four potholes and two pedestrians.  Actually, I didn’t really hit any pedestrians, but I scared a few with my wiper blades.

We took a few pictures of the haul to commemorate the occasion.

Henry with School Supplies

Later that night, Jessica arrived home.  They had seen over 1,000 patients in four days in two villages.  Sadly, a three year-old girl who had been sick with malaria for two weeks died while she was being rushed to the hospital.  As you might expect, that hit everyone pretty hard, as the Gregston’s post indicates.

After church on Sunday morning, Joline, Henry, and I set out for school to check Henry in.  Before we left, the six of us circled up and prayed that all would go well.  The kids and Henry hugged it out, and then we got on the road.

I hate being late.  Ever.  For any reason.  No matter where I am going.  Period.  Unfortunately, we got a later start than I had hoped, but we were still going to be fine unless we got lost.  Well, we got lost.  My faithful navigator (Joline) tried to find us on a map, but to no avail.  Like the real man I am, I was pretty sure I could find my way without asking for directions.  (The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, so I got a bit short tempered as well).  Then we hit an epic traffic jam.  We just sat there for about ten minutes.  Finally, Henry jumped out, conversed with a local in Luganda, and figured out where we should go.  When he got back in the car, he explained where we needed to go . . . which was exactly where I was already headed.  At least as far as you know.

We arrived about five minutes early, but the place was crawling with parents and students.

Registration

After about forty-five minutes, we got him registered.  Fortunately, the mandatory assembly started about an hour late, so all was well.  The auditorium held about 500 and almost every seat was full.  Never have Joline and I felt so many eyes upon us wondering who we were and what we were doing there.  We just smiled, shook hands with some folks, and sat with our “son” between us.  Someone could have detonated a kiloton bomb and not another mzungu would have even heard it, let alone felt its concussion.

The assembly was informative and engaging.  We had an overwhelming sense of peace that this was exactly the right place for Henry.  So did he.  After the assembly, Henry moved into his dormitory, but school rules didn’t allow us to go in.  He came back after about twenty minutes to say goodbye, and told us that he had two new friends already.  We shared some “I love you’s” and fought back tears as we felt like we were dropping our first kid off at college.

Just before parting ways

Joline will be posting in the next day or so with more of the details of Henry’s schedule, but suffice it to say that we won’t be able to see him for two weeks.  We are praying that God favors him with a good start and lots of good friends.  We would love your prayers as well.

Jesus, Take the Wheel

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The Carrie Underwood song after which this post is named takes on added significance when living in Africa.  There have already been many instances in the four short weeks we have been here where we have found ourselves seeking the sort of surrender this song implies.  But the reason for the title of this post has much more literal than figurative significance this week.

Why?  I have decided to drive in Uganda.

Why?  We are growing weary of having to call (and pay, and wait) for a driver every time we need something at the store, want to go to the mall, etc.  As I have previously posted, the Ugandan Judiciary has been quite kind to provide me a driver and a (stick-shift) car for my trips to and from work and various appointments.  But this leaves us a bit wanting in the evenings and on the weekends.  Since the car is a government car, one needs special permission from the government and an international driver’s license to drive it.  Before I left the United States, I secured an international driver’s license.  To get it, you need fifteen bucks and a faint pulse – you don’t even need to be able see.  Seriously, they issue international driver’s licenses to the blind.  If you don’t believe me, look at the regulations themselves here.

So what’s the big deal?  Well, to get permission to drive a government vehicle, you need to take a driving test.

OK, so what’s the big deal about taking a driving test?  Well, Uganda is a former British Protectorate, which means that they drive on the left side of the road here.  As one might expect, the steering wheel is also on the opposite side of the car – on the right.  This, in turn, means that the stick shift is to the left of the driver.  Likewise, the turn signal is on the right, rather than on the left – on the left is the windshield wiper controls.  Adding to the challenge is the utter lack of road stripes, stop signs, or other discernible traffic rules (there are only five stoplights in the entire country).  Add to the mix a meteor shower of motorcycles driven by seemingly suicidal teenagers who are carrying one passenger, two passengers, three passengers, a small herd of goats, enough lumber to build a two-bedroom apartment, enough sugar cane to keep the Coke factory supplied for month, etc.  Sprinkle in a herd of pedestrians (most of whom are children) for whom Frogger just isn’t quite realistic enough.  And, of course, the road is potholed like it has been hit by a meteor shower.

Kampala Traffic

Since early this week, I knew I was taking the driving test today.  On Tuesday, I switched places with my panicked driver for the last kilometer of my trip home – a lightly trafficked stretch of road with only a few turns.  As I pulled out into traffic, and tried to find second gear with my left hand, he muttered something in Luganda.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It is a Ugandan saying that means, ‘if you can’t find it, grind it,’” he replied.  Is that supposed to be funny??

With each turn, on came the windshield wipers.  “No, the turn signal is on the other side,” he said repeatedly stressed.  I (barely) resisted telling him an American saying that starts with “no” and ends with “Sherlock.”

Then on Wednesday, I took over for the last three kilometers home, including through some “intersections,” which are simply free-for-all-roundabouts.  Less grinding, more wipers.

So today, we went to the Ugandan version of the Department of Motor Vehicles.  Unlike in the United States, I didn’t have to wait in any lines.  Instead, we were escorted to a back room to meet with a guy behind a desk.  He inspected (i) the letter I brought with me from the court that requested the test, (ii) my international permit, (iii) my California driver’s license, and (iv) the fidgety mzungu sitting in front of him.

“The application fee is Twenty-Five Thouthand Shillings,” he declared.  (Most people in Uganda pronounce “Thousand” as “Thouthand.”)  I had no idea if this was legit or not, but he looked serious, so I pulled out my wallet and handed him three ten thouthand shilling notes.

“Got change?” I inquired?  He scowled at me as if I had said, “I got this money from your wife” or something equally offensive.  He muttered something in Luganda to his buddy sitting across the room, who then pulled out a five thouthand note from his pocket and handed it to me, pocketing one of the ten thouthand notes.  I thought about asking for a receipt, but thought better of it.

Mr. DMV motioned for me and my driver to follow him outside.  Along the way, he quizzed my driver (in Luganda) about my driving abilities, who mercifully covered for me (or so he later claimed).  Just when it appeared that Mr. DMV was going to give me a pass, his supervisor emerged and instructed him to take me for a test drive.  Here we go . . .

Sherlock whispered to me a quick reminder about the location of the turn signal and wished me luck.  The parking lot from which we were to emerge dumps uphill into a fairly busy road.  “Should I turn left?” I hopefully asked.  “No, go right.”  This, of course, meant crossing traffic uphill to the wrong side of the road driving a stick shift on the wrong of the steering wheel, which is located on the wrong side of the car.  Now or never, I thought.  I gunned the engine, released the clutch, and flipped the turn signal, which cued the flippin’ windshield wipers.  Mr. DMV glared at me incredulously.  “Windshield was a bit dirty,” I weakly muttered as I fumbled to shut them off (speeding up their motion before finally halting them).

For the rest of the five-minute drive, Jesus took the wheel.  I passed.  As of tomorrow, I will have a car on the weekends and in the evenings.  Unfortunately, I may also have one less pair of underwear for the rest of the trip.

In other news, Sara Ribbens had her interview with the US Embassy on Wednesday and was issued a visa to return Nya and her other kids!  She leaves tomorrow!  Here is her celebratory post.

Additionally, I picked up all of the paperwork that Henry will need to start school on Monday.  He is taking a bus from Hoima tomorrow afternoon to stay with us on Friday and Saturday night.  We will spend a good portion of Saturday shopping for what he needs to bring with him when he checks into the boarding school on Sunday afternoon.  Our shopping list includes a mattress and bedding, a ten-liter jerrycan(?), a flask(?), a plastic basin, two bars of soap, a pair of slippers, a pair of sandals, canvas shoes, a peeling knife, a mosquito net, a night dress(?), a mug, utensils, an electric flat iron, a box file, an apron, a swimming costume (?), ten rolls of toilet paper, a rag, and rubber drier (?).

Joline and I are looking forward to attending the mandatory “parent meeting” on Sunday.  We will post pictures of us dropping Henry off.

In case you haven’t tested your Uganda cultural literacy, check out the new tab Daily Quiz we have set up.

Also, if you don’t know the Carrie Underwood song referred to in the title, click here.  And if you want to see a hilarious parody of it – “Cletus Take the Reel” – click here.