When I am 90 years old and having trouble recognizing loved ones or even remembering my name, I will still remember this day like it was yesterday.  It began like the others this past week — up early catching up on e-mails and world events.  The prior evening, I learned why Tango (my driver) hadn’t come the day before – he had “knocked” (had an accident with) a Boda Boda driver that morning.  His car was damaged, but no one was injured badly.  Maybe I shouldn’t drive here next year after all . . .

The driver took me to the Naguru Remand Home where there are currently 160 juveniles of both genders between the ages of 13 and 17 imprisoned waiting for their trials.  I met briefly with the warden and one of the social workers I have gotten to know.  I also saw the ladies from Sixty Feet joining arms and singing with some of the girls.  They are living Matthew 25:36, “I was in prison, and you came to visit me.”  I wasn’t able to stay long myself – I hope to be able to return for longer on Friday.

Bob Goff and the rest of the team were returning from a safari at Murchison Falls, and I was scheduled to meet them at the Family Court for a very important hearing.  Waiting outside the courtroom was Hero and his mother.  As described previously: http://www.throwingstarfish.com/2011/11/surprise/, Hero is a nine year-old boy who miraculously survived a witch doctor ritual last year, and bravely testified against his assailant.  On the calendar that day at the Family Court was the final approval to allow Hero to travel back to the United States with Bob for a six-month series of reconstructive surgeries by one of the top doctors in the world.  Hero and his mother remembered me from Saturday and they told me where to find Bob.

As it happens all too often in Uganda, the judge was late in arriving to court.  In fact, the 11:00 a.m. hearing was spontaneously postponed until later in the afternoon.  This threw the day’s itinerary for a loop, but after a few calls, a switch was arranged – we would head directly to Luzira right now, have lunch with distinguished members of the Ugandan Judiciary at 1:00, then come back to the courthouse for the hearing.  Unfortunately, this timeline meant that we would have to leave the rest of the group behind because there wasn’t time to get them from the hotel, so we set off for Luzira.

Luzira is the maximum security prison outside of Kampala where the Witch Doctor (WD) who carved up Hero was incarcerated.  When Bob had told me a few weeks ago that one thing he wanted to do on this trip was to go visit WD in prison, I wasn’t all surprised because I already knew that Bob was nuts.  In the car with me were the driver, Margaret’s pistol-packing female body guard (who looks fifteen years old), Bob, and Margaret.  Margaret is also nuts.  She was the Registrar in Masindi when Henry was convicted and she played an instrumental role in securing his ultimate freedom.  She is now the Family Court Registrar and she is also a pastor who has no fear because God is on her side.  Just ask her.

It took about twenty minutes to get through all of the various security check points, but we finally ended up in the Warden’s office.  The Warden’s office was nice and spacious, and had plush red carpet to match the furniture upholstery.  Bob and Margaret took seats just on the other side of the desk from the Warden and I sat behind them on a small couch.  They explained to the Warden who they wanted to see, and after some back and forth, he sent a guard away to retrieve WD.  While we were waiting, the Warden told us that they had 3000 prisoners at this facility that was built in the 1920s to house 600.  They have recently reached a point where more than half of the prisoners have been convicted of serious crimes – the others are still waiting for their day in court.  Until just recently, more than half of the prisoners were on remand, just waiting for something to happen on their cases.

After about ten minutes, the guard and WD entered through a door to my left.  WD looked nothing like how I pictured him.  More specifically, he looked exactly like I thought he would look, but I pictured him in cuffs, leg restraints, chains, or something that would restrain his movement.  Nope.  Just bright yellow shorts and a bright yellow short-sleeved shirt with something bulky in his breast pocket.  As he walked in, he slumped to his knees on the soft carpet and looked submissively at the warden, who said something to him in another language.  Bob and Margaret turned their chairs to face him, and he looked at me and then looked at the couch.  I was sitting on the right side of the two-person couch and nervously patted the seat next to me, motioning him to join me on the couch.  He did.  Gulp.

It was clear that he remembered Bob and Margaret.  Bob had sat with the prosecution for WD’s entire trial and provided critical support and assistance to the prosecution.  Bob also arranged for the entire trial to be captured on film.  This is going to be a phenomenal book someday, and I am confident that Bob will get it written.  Our meeting with WD will be at least a full chapter, but here are the quick highlights.

Bob asks WD how he is doing, and WD responds through Margaret, who is interpreting, that he is OK, but prison is hard.  WD tells Bob that he is not angry with Bob and holds nothing against him.  Bob tells WD that he hopes he knows how much God loves him and that God will forgive him for what he has done.  WD gives a barely perceptible nod.  Bob tells WD that he talks to Jesus every day and that he often prays for WD, praying that someday WD will come to know Jesus as well.  I, of course, am riveted, and no longer nervous about WD pulling out some chicken feet and shrinking my head.

WD says something to Margaret as he reaches inside his breast pocket and pulls out a small Bible consisting of the Psalms and the New Testament.  Margaret interprets that WD has been given a Bible in English and has attended some of the church services at Luzira.  Bob asks WD if he can see his Bible.  WD hands it to him.  As Bob is flipping through it to see if it has been highlighted or marked in any way, he asks WD if he has any favorite verses.  Psalms 23 and 91.  Bob then asks if WD wants Jesus to be the Lord of his life.  WD responds that while he has been reading the Bible and thinking about it, he has not yet decided if he wants to follow Jesus (or words to that effect).  Bob leans in and asks, would you like to make that decision today?  WD pauses, then nods.  Would you like to ask Jesus into your heart right now?  Pause.  Nod.

I, of course, start crying (though quietly).  Bob moves his chair close to WD and reaches out to hold his hands.  Not wanting to be left out, Margaret and I place our hands on theirs.  With Margaret interpreting, Bob walks WD through his confession of faith and acceptance of Jesus as his Lord and Savior.  My eyes and nose are leaking so much that I think WD was wondering if he accidentally put a spell on me, but I kept my hands on his until it was finished.  Afterward, Bob stands up and opens his arms wide.  WD stands up and Bob hugs him, telling him that they are now brothers and friends.  Monkey see, monkey do.  I, the monkey, hugged it out with WD also.  Bob then arranged with the Warden to get WD a Bible in his native language, and we gave the Warden some money for WD to be able to purchase some things at the prison canteen.  Bob got instructions on how to write to WD and promised him that he would.

As we were leaving, I was still trying to process what had just happened.  Even now, I am still trying to process what happened.  I confess to being a bit of skeptic when I hear stories like this, but I will testify under oath that the foregoing is true and accurate in all respects.

From Luzira, we drove to a really good Chinese restaurant to meet up with some special friends.  Our group arrived before the others, and I tried to tell the rest of them what had happened, but I couldn’t really talk about it without choking up.  Shortly after we arrived, Katie Davis arrived to join us.  I was really hoping to meet her on this trip.  She, like pretty much everyone else in the world, is a friend of Bob so she drove in from Jinja to meet up with us.

The reason I was hoping to meet Katie was that I had just finished her new book before I left for Uganda on this trip.  It is called “Kisses from Katie” and it is a fantastic story about a girl who moved to Uganda after graduating from high school in Tennessee about four years ago and has decided to stay.  She currently has more than a dozen orphan girls she is foster parenting and runs an organization that educates hundreds, and feeds over a thousand.  Her organization is called Amazima Ministries and you can learn more about it and the NYT Bestseller book here: http://www.amazima.org/index.html.

Also joining us for lunch were Benjamin Odoki, Chief Justice of the Ugandan Supreme Court, Alice Bahigeine, Deputy Chief Justice, Yorokamu Bamwine, Principal Judge, Geoffrey Kiryabwire, Head of the Commericial Court, and Stella Arach, Court of Appeals Judge.  All of these judicial officials have made recent visits to Pepperdine.  It was great to renew our friendship with them over a good meal.

After lunch, Bob, John Niemeyer, and I set out for the courthouse.  Unsurprisingly, the judge was still not ready for the hearing, so we waited with Hero, Hero’s mom, and Hero’s little brother.  Hero is such a well-adjusted and friendly boy that one would never suspect what he has gone through.  Eventually, Bob, Hero, Hero’s mom, and a Ugandan attorney Bob hired went back into the Judge’s chambers.  Two hours later, they emerged with all the documents necessary for Hero to come to the United States to have his operations.  Praise God.

We left the courthouse at around 6:30 and it took us about 45 minutes to drive the two miles to the hotel where we met up with the rest of the group for dinner.  I was finally able to tell the whole story – Bob is too modest to tell it himself, and he is also a crier so I am not sure he could have gotten through it.  We ate at the hotel’s restaurant called “Spur” and I had a good burger and great milkshake.  Justice Benjamin Kabiito (Civil Division), whom I have gotten to know well on my trips here and his trip to Pepperdine, also joined us also.

It was a long and exhausting day, but one I will never forget.  I suspect tomorrow will be the same, as Bob and Margaret have convened a national gathering of witch doctors to try to educate them about the human trafficking laws and to warn them that they will be prosecuted if they persist in ritual mutilation of children.  For Bob, however, this simply means trying to make them his friends.  It should be another memorable day.

Tuesday was an action-packed day of meetings with Ugandan Judiciary members and Ugandan lawyers.  It began early again – I can’t seem to sleep past 4:30 a.m., but I am going to bed early each night so all is well.  When I got up this morning, I had quite a few documents waiting for me to review relating to the American couple who is desperately trying to bring home the two Ugandan children who have become as much a part of their family as their biological son.  I never expected to become an expert in international adoption law (or even involved in it), but God has ways  of putting you where you can be useful.  And I feel like I can be useful with this, so I have delved headlong into learning all that I can about this stuff.  The metaphor of drinking from a firehose comes to mind.  While I am nowhere near being an expert yet, I am getting my arms around it faster than I expected.

After about four hours of e-mails and adoption law reading, I met up with Shane Michael at the Commercial Court.  Shane is a 2011 Pepperdine Law graduate and is serving as a Pepperdine Nootbaar Fellow for one year in Uganda.  This program is named after our dear friend and benefactor, Herbert Nootbaar, who turned 103 on Sunday.  I was quite disappointed to miss his birthday party, as he has become a good friend.  Shane is embedded with the Commercial Court and is serving as a Court-appointed mediator.  Shane is also a utility infielder of sorts and will be helping with the juvenile justice projects on which I will be working; he has also jumped in to help the American couple seeking to adopt.

Shane and I met briefly with Justice Kiryabwire, the Head of the Commercial Court and liaison for Pepperdine’s relationship with the Ugandan Judiciary.  It is always good to see Justice K, and I had the opportunity to deliver to him a computer he had ordered during his trip to Pepperdine last month.  Justice K gave me an update on the logistics of my visit also, confirming that Shane and I will be sharing the huge office Shane currently occupies, and that they have been able to secure a car and a driver for me so I can get to and from work.  I had briefly considered trying to drive myself, but five minutes back in the city confirmed that this would be a horrible idea.  The road conditions, the fact that there are two stoplights in all of Uganda, and the fact that they drive on the other side of the road would be a recipe for disaster if I got behind the wheel.

From there, Shane and I headed off to the court of appeals to see if we could get some more clarity as to when Henry’s appellate case would be heard.  This is a critical piece of information because my family’s arrival date in Uganda in January has not been set precisely because we don’t know when the argument will take place.  Since I am arguing the case, we will move here a week or so in advance of the argument unless the argument is in February or later.  In that case, we will likely come in late January.  Fortunately, one of my Ugandan friends is the one who sets the hearing dates.  Unfortunately, he was in meetings all day, so we didn’t connect in person.  We did, however, connect telephonically, and have set up a meeting for Wednesday morning.

From the court of appeals, we headed back to Bugolobi (the suburb where I am staying now and will be living next year) to meet with a Ugandan lawyer (Valentine) who is directing a huge juvenile rights project.  This project involves all aspects of Ugandan juvenile law, and is being overseen by the Chief Justice of the Ugandan Supreme Court, but funded by both public and private sources.  Shane became aware of this project a few weeks ago, and we have been asked to play an active role in the juvenile justice/criminal law side of the project.  I look forward to working closely with Valentine when I return in January.

While we were meeting with Valentine, the rains came down and the floods came up.  The streets turned to rivers.  When it rains in Uganda, it rains hard.  I wish I had filmed it – it is too hard describe in words.  Picture the best shower you have ever had.  None of this pansy spray or pin-prick strands of water, but streams as thick as a baby’s arm gushing from the faucet at you.  Then picture that as far as the eye can see.  The roads that are paved have asphalt about a quarter inch thick, with red mud yawning through the surface every few feet.  Add this to a national allergy to any sort of drainage system, and you get red mud rivers that would support kayak races.  As we were driving (wading) through these rivers on the way back to the courthouse, I asked Tango (the driver) whether traffic slowed down when it rained (like it does in the US).  Negative.  It actually gets much lighter because people just don’t drive in it unless they have to.  (Ugandans’ sense of being on time is another national allergy, so they just wait).

I arrived at the office of the lawyer with whom I am working on Henry’s appeal at about two minutes before our scheduled meeting time of 3:00 p.m.  They were stunned to see me, and told me that they didn’t expect me to arrive at 3:00.  As I was saying . . .  I had a chance to chat with another lawyer in the office about the case, and the lead lawyer arrived around 3:15.  We talked for about thirty minutes, much of which time we devoted to Ugandan adoption/guardianship law.  This lawyer is truly top-notch and I have connected him with one of my former students in Texas who is very seriously considering adopting a Ugandan orphan.  This lawyer has also agreed to meet on Thursday with the American couple here in Uganda to see if he can be of assistance to them.

On my way back to the hotel, I stopped in to see the Criminal Court Registrar, the lawyer who manages the criminal court docket in Uganda, and we talked about some of the work I will be doing with that court next year.  I also stopped at the grocery store in Bugolobi, somewhat near where I will be living.  Joline had given me a list of things I was supposed to look for, but I could only remember one – American peanut butter.  Check.  What they don’t have, though, is Diet Coke (Coca-Cola Light).  Fortunately, there are plenty of other places in Kampala that do have it.

Back at the hotel, I met with the apartment manager and got another tour of the apartment where we will be staying next year.  (Actually, the apartment I looked at was the one below ours, where some new friends of ours from Oklahoma will be living for the same six months we will be here.  God has really blessed us with built-in community with a family who is eerily similar to ours.  More on this in a later post).

After catching up on some e-mail, I went down the restaurant to order some dinner to eat in my room.  They told me it would be 25 minutes, so I told them that I was going to get in a quick work out in the gym.  About a dozen curls (with barbells I borrowed from a ten year-old girl), two full minutes on the stationary bike (I went an entire kilometer), a handful of lat flies (like I know what that means), and I was done.  I hate lifting weights, and I really don’t want to further feed the rampant rumor mill at Pepperdine that I eat Steroids like Skittles.  Back at the restaurant, the waitress said “Wow, you are huge – that must have been a great workout.”  Actually, she said “Back already?  Your food should be here in fifteen minutes.”

I enjoyed my club sandwich and fries – after all, my two minutes on the exercise bike burned more than enough calories to cover the meal – then resumed reading about adoption law until about 9:30 a.m.  Lots more meetings tomorrow.

As I look back at how long this post is, I realize that I have violated the important principle I learned at the Restore Leadership Academy on Monday.  This piece of paper was taped to the wall:

I will try to heed it more carefully with tomorrow’s post.

I got a solid eight hours of sleep – from 8:30 p.m. to 4:30 a.m. and then got up to catch up on what was happening in the world.  During breakfast, the team (which has been joined by two recent female college graduates from San Diego who are working here in Uganda with Restore for a few months) prepared the diplomas for each kid.  Bob goes big with graduation, and the diplomas are no different.  He “borrowed” the diploma template from an Ivy League college and makes the Restore diplomas really fancy, including dripping a pile of candle wax on the page and then creating a seal with a Restore insignia.  They look awesome.

Restore International has recently completed the paperwork for the purchase of a huge piece of land (called Seven Corners) down the road from where the school currently resides.  They are feverishly working to put up the buildings for the new school and decided to have graduation at this new property that it took three years to secure.  When we arrived at Seven Corners, it was about 11:00 a.m.  Everyone was already there and they were waiting for us.  A huge troupe of students in traditional African garb escorted us down the road toward graduation field, dancing, drumming, and singing the whole way.

Henry had decided he wanted to surprise his parents so he didn’t tell them I was coming.  Henry greeted me and pointed out where his parents were sitting (front row).  When he did, I could register their surprise.  We hugged and I took some pictures of them just before the four-hour ceremony got underway.  Go big or go home.

Since it was Sunday morning, the graduation ceremony blended in a worship service, and consisted of about a half dozen tribal dances/performances, a couple choir performances, and several speeches from local dignitaries.  As you might expect, Bob is adored around these parts and he got rousing applause when he spoke.  That guy has more enthusiasm than anyone I have ever met.  At some point, he asked me and Darla to each say a few words of welcome and greeting.  Eventually, we got around to awarding the diplomas and wrapped up the ceremony with a meal.  Bob went nuts each time a graduate was introduced – 38 from S4 and 25 from S6 – his enthusiasm for making each graduate feel special never waned a bit.  I took some more photos with Henry and his family, and just in time, as the rains came – and oh did they come.  The dirt roads soon turned to rivers, which masked the potholes that we had to maneuver on the way back.

Before I left the graduation, I arranged to meet up with Henry and his parent that evening at my hotel.  They arrived at 5:30 and we ate dinner and talked until 8:00 p.m.  While they understood and spoke English well, they had a difficult time with my Mzungu English, so Henry often had to interpret.  I would say something in English (as slowly and clearly as I could), they would look at me quizzically, then Henry would repeat what I said word-for-word in English, and they would smile and respond in English.  It was a bit surreal.

As we were wrapping up dinner, I took them to the lobby where the internet worked and called Joline and the kids via skype.  Henry had told them about the magic screen whereby they see and talk to people in America, but I am not sure they really understood until they experienced it.

Throughout the evening, every ten or fifteen minutes, one of them would rattle off something in Runyoro, and Henry would tell me how appreciative they were for us helping Henry get out of jail and back into school.  They were also incessant in their gratitude for my assistance in them being able to travel to Gulu for the graduation.  They told me that they had to sell all of their cows when Henry’s father was in prison for nearly two years on the charge that was dismissed when the evidence was examined.  They explained that since the arrest, they have not had any “extra” money to travel.  We eventually said our goodbyes and I promised to come visit them in Hoima early next year.

Throughout the day, I couldn’t help but marvel at what can be done with the “extra.”  There were 63 graduates, most of whom otherwise would not have received an education, and 200 kids in other grades in the midst of their own life transformation because Bob decided that he (and others who joined him on this journey) could make a difference with the “extra” income he had but didn’t need to live on.  Just being there in person really drove home just how rich we are, and just how much others’ lives could be enriched with the “extra.”  Bob has been my hero for a couple years now.  He just moved up a notch to superhero.

I miscalculated . . . badly.  On the flight from LAX to Amsterdam, I had gotten my four hours of pharmaceutical sleep at the time when Ugandans were sleeping.  But on the flight from Amsterdam to Entebbe, Uganda, in a moment of weakness and stupidity, I took a nap for a couple hours.  Unfortunately, this meant that when I could finally get to bed on Friday night at about 1:00 a.m., I was unable to sleep.  At all.  I tried twice, but each time just laid there.  Finally, I gave up and just caught up on e-mail and some other work.

Over breakfast, we had a heartbreaking meeting with a couple who had been in Uganda for the better part of a year and had been granted legal guardianship (a step toward adoption) over a little boy, but had been unsuccessful in their attempts to do the same for a little girl.  They had been foster parents for both kids for several months and both kids clearly considered them to be their parents.  Please pray for them as they try to complete the difficult adoption process.

We also met with a couple Ugandan officials (I am being purposely vague), one of whose children had attended the excellent prep school that I am hoping to get Henry admitted to early next year.  She graciously offered her assistance in the upcoming admissions process, but cautioned that Henry would have to score very high on the national exams to even be considered.

We also met the bravest boy in the world.  Having previously heard about him, it took all I had not to just pick him up and hug him.  To protect his identity, I will refer to him simply as Hero.  I had a chance to sit with Hero (who just turned nine) and to help him cut up his breakfast before he ate.  He made a paper airplane out of a napkin, and borrowed my pen and started writing and solving math problems on the napkin.  When interacting with Hero, one would have no idea that about a year ago he had defied all odds and had somehow stumbled out of a field bloodied and disorientated after having been kidnapped and ritually carved up by a witch doctor.  Not only did he survive, but he stared the witch doctor in the eye at the trial and identified him as his assailant.  That witch doctor was convicted, representing the first time in Ugandan history that anyone had been convicted under the trafficking in body parts statutes.  Bob Goff and his Restore team orchestrated the trial.  Later this week, Hero will fly with Bob back to the United States for a series of reconstructive surgeries over the course of about six months.

After breakfast, we packed up and set out on the five-hour drive north to Gulu where Henry was in the midst of the next-to-last day of the national exams.  I was in the car with John Niemeyer, Bob Goff, and Darla Anderson.  We talked about Niemeyer’s law school plans (perhaps this next fall at Pepperdine?), Darla’s life at Pixar (fascinating), Bob’s hopes and dreams for Restore International’s work in Uganda (expansive), and Henry’s plight so far and his hopes and dreams for the future.  After we crossed the Nile, which serves as a de facto dividing line between the North and the South in Uganda (Kony and the LRA rebels never made it south of the Nile), we stopped to feed the baboons http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6oZWuaHZOVY.

Upon arriving in Gulu, we checked into the hotel and then set off for the Restore Leadership Academy, which is about fifteen minutes outside of Gulu.  The students all know Bob and love it when he comes to the school because that means something big is going to happen.  Last time he came, he brought huge tarps and a skateboard and the kids learned to “tarp surf.”  Last time Bob’s law partner Danny DeWalt came to Restore, he lugged with him two “portable” basketball hoops and introduced the kids to a new sport.  Niemeyer bought the kids some jerseys and the big year-end game was scheduled for Saturday night.  After we arrived, the game got going.

Before we arrived, Niemeyer had called Henry and learned that he and Joseph were actually in Gulu getting his parents settled at their hotel.  Their father had been to Gulu only once, when he dropped off the boys for school in June of 2010.  But their mother had never been to Gulu.  About twenty minutes after we arrived at Restore, Henry and Joseph arrived in a taxi.  I had positioned myself behind Niemeyer’s car so they couldn’t see me as they walked up.  I had also given my Flip camera to Hunter so he could capture the reunion.  As hoped, they were quite surprised http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35ujndtJe7U.  They told me that their families and friends had been asking them for several weeks whether Mr. Jim was coming to for graduation, but he had told them what I had told him – that I couldn’t leave work in the middle of the semester to come.  (Thanks Dean Tacha and Dean Perrin for the Hall Pass).

The three of us talked for the next half hour, but there wasn’t a ton of new things that had happened since we had spoken by phone earlier that week.  Henry did tell me, however, that he felt very good about how the three-week long national exams were going and that his last day of exams was this coming Monday.  When it started raining a bit harder than the light sprinkle we had been experiencing, our group set off back to the hotel.  Henry told me that he wasn’t going to call and tell his parents that I came because he wanted to surprise them in the morning.

Back at the hotel, I skyped with Joline and the kids for a few minutes, but was starting to show narcoleptic tendencies, so I went to bed at around 8:00 p.m.  Tomorrow is graduation day, and Bob’s motto has always been “Go big, or go home.”  It should be a full day of action and whimsy.