Thanksgiving

I was told, today, they do have “thanksgiving” here in Uganda, but it is not what I was thinking.  I was thinking of giving thanks to God for all the blessings that have received, like the pilgrims did in the 17^th century.  I was also thinking of a meal with friends.  Yesterday, I was with the other US Americans in Koboko (the Ray family and their visitor, Rachael) for dinner, our thanksgiving.

The reason it came up is because the Charismatic Church in Mugujai is holding a thanksgiving service.  They are giving thanks for the donations the short-term missionaries from Foursquare Polson, MT left with the Ray family.  They were with us for a discipleship class and again for a church service in Mugujai last March and noted the lack of benches and chairs.  They asked Leroy to use some of the money for benches in Mugujai, the rest was unrestricted.  Ten benches were purchased along with several chairs, a pulpit (a wooden stand used for announcements and for preaching – not a built in, fixed in one place, go up the steps into a raised speaking platform) and a table that can be used for an altar.  Today they plan to dedicate them.

Graduation

I was invited to attend the graduation of the SSEST (South Sudan Evangelical School of Theology).  Since some of the members the discipleship class are among the students, and Bishop Moses who lives in Mugujai and frequently translates for the discipleship class is also the principle of SSEST, the discipleship class was canceled today.

It brought back memories of DSOMAT (Diocesan School Of Ministry And Theology) in the Diocese of Olympia.  I graduated from DSOMAT in June 2009.  These students would have graduated in May 2020 if corona virus had not postponed the final classes.

Unlike DSOMAT graduation which was strictly a church event, the local politicians were invited to SSEST’s graduation – and they came, despite it being campaign season and the students being South Sudanese refugees (non-Ugandans, non-voters).  Events began with the signing of the Ugandan national anthem.  It is a South Sudanese school but only the Ugandan anthem was sung, and they knew it and sang from memory. 

I had been told certificates were a big deal, today I saw it in action.  You would think it was a college graduation by the way friends placed garlands (Christmas garlands) around their favorite graduates’ neck, gave gifts, and took pictures. 

DSOMAT started a new group of students each year, SSEST starts a new group once every three years so their next graduation will be 2023.

Still adjusting

Patience is a virtue.  It is also part of my adapting to the local culture.  Our prison ministry team meeting is scheduled to begin at 2 o’clock.  At 2:15 p.m. there were just two of us.  One more came by foot and two more by boda (including our presenter) before 2:30 p.m.  It was a good meeting with lots of sharing.  The sharing revealed that the word ‘perspective’ is not widely understood, and a synonym will be needed. 

Aunt Ruth

There is thunder and dark skies today.  Somehow it is appropriate.  I just received the news that Aunt Ruth died Monday evening (USA Pacific Standard Time).  It was expected.  I am feeling gray as the memories come like a flood.

I remember going to Aunt Ruth’s house as a grade school youth and playing in the basement while the parents met upstairs (on the main floor).  This visit we were playing outside, in the lower back yard.  A couple of us started running up the steps to the upper back yard. I missed a step.  I still have a scar on my lower right leg a half inch wide and an inch and a half long.  I let out a cry that was heard upstairs and everyone came.  Aunt Ruth was quick to supply mom with whatever she needed to stop the bleeding and clean up the wound. Aunt Ruth also provided supplies to clean up the floor since they brought be back into the house to be treated. I think it was Doug that took care of that so that neither my mom nor his mom would have too.

I remember going to that same house many times over several years.  Aunt Ruth hosted many family events.  When I was in my teens Aunt Ruth was showing off her first grandson.  I was upstairs with the adults this time.  After everyone else had a chance to hold him and I sat quietly (but longingly) looking on, I was offered a chance to hold him.  He fell asleep in my arms.  Many years later my cousin tried to goat me by saying “there was no accounting for taste”.  Maybe, but there was accounting for the trust Aunt Ruth had when she let me hold him for the better part of half an hour while they talked.

As I finished high school and looked at colleges, I had an occasion to visit Aunt Ruth at work.  She was the secretary to the bishop of the Diocese of Olympia.  While we were in her office, she asked me if I was still thinking about seminary.  Yes, I was.  She told me the bishop preferred candidates that had worked at a secular job for a few years after graduating college.  Her words influenced the decisions I made.

After Aunt Ruth sold the house that was on a hill, with a view of Lake Washington, she moved into an apartment east of the University district.  She continued to host family events.  I remember that story and a half of stairs well.  I did not have any problem with them.  After living there several years, she did.  She fell.  After recovering she decided to move to a place with fewer steps.  No more house on the hill or apartments with a lot of steps.

The new place was on 15^th NE, approximately 15 blocks east of Northgate.  She continued to host family events.  I remember her hosting an extra Thanksgiving dinner.  She had some of her immediate family over the night before for dinner and today they returned to Idaho.  That did not stop her from inviting my mother and myself over for Thanksgiving dinner leftovers.

Aunt Ruth, I miss you.  Thanks for the memories.  Rest in peace.

Seminars

This appears to be make-up for the effects of CoVid-19 week.  Seminars are everywhere.  When I went to teach computer skills this afternoon, I passed a seminar by PCOAT (the European Union flag was along side the Ugandan coat of arms on the banners) talking about corona virus and how it is still there.  The chairs were all socially distanced. They appear to be taking advantage of the allowances for gatherings now that it is election season.

Tomorrow the Charismatic Church will be resuming a series of Bible seminars.  This one will run three days and appears (to me) to be the final one in a series because they are talking about a graduation on Friday.  The Rays have been invited but they do not know the time of the graduation.  The bishops in my computer skills class seemed to expect me there on Friday but I have not received an invitation.  Maybe I am included on the Ray’s invitation since they know me through them. Maybe their casual mentioning it is the invitation.

Thursday the Africa Inland Church (AIC) will be starting a three-day seminar for youth.  Their seminar will be talking about marriage, finding the right partner, what to expect …  The Rays have been asked to present one of the opening sessions.  I was not asked, duh, I am single.

Cooking

I have an all gas, four-burner stove with a gas oven.  There are part gas and part electric and all electric versions available. 

Most people in Small London use a small charcoal stove or cook over a wood fire.  Cooking over wood is the most common and it has caused wood to be scarce.  The ladies bring it from significant distances, often from D. R. Congo or from South Sudan.  Those “stoves” are three rocks to set the pot on, with spaces between each of the rocks to feed in the wood from three directions.

St. John’s Birijaku

Today, for the first time, I attended all three services at St. John’s, Birijaku.  Birijaku is next to Small London.  I believe that, technically, I am in Birijaku, although the area is known as Small London (the name of the nearby small trading center i.e. small collection of “stores”).

Let me begin with thanks to God that we can hold services now and I pray that the rest of the world will be able to do so soon.

I had been under the impression that all three services were full.  Maybe they were before corona, but not now.  Only the first service, the one I usually attend, was full.  It “starts” at 7 a.m. but the church bells ring at 6 a.m. followed by gathering and ‘let’s get ready to worship’ music.  The people leading the service gather at a church tookel pray and then enter just before 7 a.m.  They do not exit until after the second service (and then re-enter after Sunday School for the third service).  The second service begins at 8 a.m. or when the first service ends if it runs over.  It used to begin at 8:30 a.m. (there used to be a half hour between services); however, Sunday School restarted today so it was moved up. 

The Sunday School moves into the building for an hour between the second and third services.  The third service is in Kakwa.  It begins at 10:30 and ends around noon.  No concern about keeping to a hour this time because there is nothing coming afterwards. This is a good thing because it gives time to translate when an English speaker (like me) is asked to give the message.

Melody’s Birthday

Today was Melody’s birthday.  Melody is the oldest child of Peter and Sunday, the family that lives in the boy’s quarters of the Ray family (the other missionaries in Koboko).  She is just a few months younger than Orrin, the Ray’s youngest.  We went to Arua so they could swim and have pizza for her birthday.  Afterwards we came home (to Koboko) for cake and presents.  The cake was made by Essence (the Ray’s oldest daughter).

Melody and birthday cake while we sing Happy Birthday

Melody (8) trying on her gift, sister Ester (3) helping

Bitter Sweet

Instead of writing about the things I see or hear about around me, I find myself directed to get more personal today.  It was hard to come up with a title.  The day has been a day of blessing and a day of sorrow.

A good friend of the Ray family arrived late yesterday.  She came bearing gifts and the Rays shared some Ziploc bags, cheese, and raisins with me.  Thank you, Rachel, and thank you God.

Following morning prayer and returning home with these gifts I checked my email before going to Mugujai for discipleship.  I received news about my Aunt.  She is my dad’s older sister and the last member of that generation on that side of the family.  She has been in a care facility for some time and went on hospice during the first lock-down of Washington State for corona virus.  Despite all that, the news hit hard.  Aunt Ruth is still with us but has not taken nourishment in any form since Friday (a week) and is bewildered by everyone, family, and caretaker alike.  The day has held returning memories of many happy family gatherings at the house that looked down the hill to Lake Washington (during my youth), and of family gatherings at each of her apartments in more recent decades.  I think she would be excited by the post I made on the 15^th (serving) if she could remember who I am.

There was good interaction and great questions during the discipleship training in Mugujai, which was a blessing and an emotional lift at a time when I needed it.

Rice

I have seen rice drying before.  Today I witnessed the preceding steps.

I have agreed to let Alfred use my boys quarters to store some of his produce.  Earlier in the year that was maze.  Currently he is growing rice in his field that is just below my yard.  (I learned rice does not need standing water, but frequent rain is enough.)  Today he laid out a tarp and manually sorted the grain from the chaff by beating it.

Separating the grain from the chaff

Chaff

Rice

That is a lot more rice per chaff than I expected.