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.

Jim and Darla with Bob, after we were awarded our Honorary Doctorate Degrees

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.