June 23

Okay folks, today’s entry is going to have my usual entry as well as comments from Alex, Ken and Branden – trying to describe their experiences. I say trying because there are no words, no pictures, no videos that would adequately describe what we are experiencing here. But try we shall. The debrief sessions every evening get progressively more emotional, more intense. I am positive that this trip is going to impact every one of our lives and will take weeks, months, years, probably the rest of our lives to process. On to the events of yesterday (Monday).

We headed down to the Palace yesterday morning about 8:30. Once there, the KIU students began separating out some foodstuffs that some of our funds have supplied. There was rice, maize flour, cooking oil and laundry soap. Basic needs. We then separated into teams of 3-4 people and headed to “Texas City” – a slum. Picture a university – by American standards rather run down but by Ugandan standards quite nice. Down one end of the campus is a dirt road that leads into a slum. And this slum is like nothing that you’ll see in North America. Many of the buildings are stone or brick, but like the neighborhood around Omega Healing Center the stone walls are the entire structure – there are no amenities inside, often no floor either. Other buildings are made of sticks or pieces of tin patchworked together. The “streets” are mostly dirt paths, some so narrow that you can’t walk 2 abreast, most navigable only by motorcycles (boda-boda) and even them slowly. Down the middle of the streets are streams of sewage and they’re strewn with garbage. There are piles of garbage all over the place, which serve as feeding grounds competed over by goats, chickens, and the occasional cow. And when I say cow, please don’t picture a nice grain fed black angus. These cows are as thin and stunted as the people living here. There are piles of charcoal – no, not Kingsford briquets, just chunks of charcoal – everywhere. This is what they use to cook. All of the time – not just when they feel like grilling.

We enter a courtyard surrounded by 3 of these stone buildings – each housing 5-6 families – and a garbage pile and community outhouse on the fourth side. In the middle of the courtyard is a patch of dirt with a stick frame, probably 30 feet by 20 feet. This is Pastor Ronald’s church. He holds services there – if it’s raining or unbearably hot they’ll pull tarps over the top of the frame, otherwise it’s just the stick rectangle open to the sky. Pastor Ronald assigns each team the name of someone that they’re to deliver the food to. How we find the peoples’ homes I haven’t a clue. I was teamed with Grace and Vivian – two Kenyan KIU students. Most of the Kenyans speak Swahili as their native tongue and English which is pretty much the universal school language of both countries.

We walk down another couple of dirt paths and arrive at Margaret’s house. Margaret answers the door – or rather the sheet that hangs across the doorway – and after a few minutes of awkward signaling and gesturing she invites us in. You see, Kenyans, Tanzanians, and most of the other countries surrounding Uganda speak Swahili. The Ugandan’s native tongue is Lugandan. Margaret does not speak Swahili, and she didn’t attend school so she doesn’t speak English. Grace & Vivian do not speak Lugandan. I, of course, speak only English and what French I remember from 30+ years ago in school (can you say “useless”?). Margaret invites us in. Here is this woman who lives in absolute poverty, and there’s these 3 strangers coming to her home with food – one of whom is a very large Mzungu. She looked terrified.

Her home is about 8’ square. One half is the bedroom – a pair of bunks separated from the rest of the home by a mosquito net. The other half is the living room. It has a love seat type piece of furniture and two chairs. Grace & Vivian take the love seat, Margaret sits in one of the chairs and I fold myself into the other. There is hardly enough room between to house everyone’s feet. And we had removed our shoes before entering, so here’s this black pair of size 13 socks crammed into the tiny space with the three black women’s feet.

Grace begins to attempt to explain to her who we are and why we’ve come; that the food is from God, that the Mzungu has come from America to tell her about God. All three of us make attempts to talk with her. I think Margaret was rather terrified of me – she spent the entire time leaning out of her chair in the opposite direction of me, and never made eye contact. After about 20 minutes, her daughter – Harriet – comes in, followed shortly thereafter by her friend Marjorie. Harriet is about 12 and attends school, so she knows some English, and stumbles through some rudimentary translation with her mother. Does Margaret work? No, she can’t find a job – not even washing clothes. Is Harriet’s father around? No, he died. How does Margaret get money? There was a vague reference to “the young man”. Does Harriet know the Lord? Oh yes! Does Margaret? She thinks so, and there is a Bible sitting on the back of the love seat, so there is some hope. But this is about as far as the conversation can go.

We leave and head back out to the courtyard. Shortly thereafter the team that Sam was on emerges to join us, followed by Erika’s team. Erika’s team had similar results to ours. Sam’s team, however, was able to find someone who understood both Lugandan and English very well. Both the woman in the home and the man who was translating accepted Jesus.


Honestly, it was spirit crushing for many of us. But Pastor Kennedy, the students and Pastor Ronald are committed to continue ministering to these people, to providing them with whatever they can. As we moved back to where the bus was parked, we discussed our experiences with several others. Many of the Kenyan students were as heartbroken as us, but they’re still committed to continue the efforts. Sophia honestly tells us how much she is dreading the trip to Gulu this weekend because conditions up there are much worse than this.

And yet, there is hope. There is hope for eternal life. There is hope for survival thanks to people like Pastor Ronald and the students. There is hope in my mind that maybe I can try to convince some of the other Mzungus back home to help sustain the efforts. On the way back out, several of the students point to one of the stick structures. This is where Mother Mary’s orphanage was housed up until 6 months ago.

Deep breath. Okay, on to the afternoon. After lunch we piled into the bus – along with at least as many KIU students as us Mzungus to go a high school in Gaba – a suburb of Kampala close to Lake Victoria. On the way, I’m packed into the bus beside Patrick. You’ll read more about him in Ken’s comments, but among other things, Patrick is a genuine character. I recognized the first time I saw him that he has a grin every bit as mischievous as my own. As we talk, he informs me that the Swahili word for crazy is “chizi” (pronounced cheesey). So it quickly became known that Dale is the “Chizi Mzungu” and Patrick is the “Chizi Mafrica”. Sam can call me “Bunta Chizi” (crazy father) and I can call her my “Chizi Binti” (crazy daughter, of course!). Actually, Patrick told me that I am “chizi cabeesa” (not sure on the spelling) which means totally crazy!

The plan for the school was that the assembly would be opened by Aaron, do some introductions, then Pastor Kennedy would pray, then we’d do the Set Me Free drama. Branden would then preach, and two of the students would tell their stories of their life in Christ. The designated students – first ones out of the gate – were Alex & Sam.

We arrive at the school and are lead up to the 4th floor of the building. The high school students are already in the room – approximately 130 of them (near as I could count) in a room about 30’ long by 20’ wide. With desks. There’s no power available, which means no sound system, which means we can’t play Set Me Free, which means the drama is out the window. Go with the flow!

Lance introduced the team and I got a good laugh from the students when I told them I was the Chizi Mzungu. Branden preached, and then we had the highlight. Alex got up and knocked it out of the park – first time he’s ever been up to speak in front of any group of people, and he spoke with confidence, volume and passion. He told them of the terrible struggle he’s had recently after the death of his friend, but how God and His Word has comforted him. Absolutely awesome job. This was followed by Sam who enthralled them before she even opened her mouth – they don’t see many Mzungus, never mind girls that are that tall with hair that is that curly! She too delivered her story very well, telling them of her struggle with overcoming fear in her life. I would also add that when Branden told the students a little about his life – that his father walked out when he was an infant, that his mother was an alcoholic and drug addict and that he was pretty much raised by his grandparents – one of the students responded with “I’m sorry.” They have an image of Mzungus that our lives are perfect, that we have no pain, no problems.

While intermingling with the students afterwards, one of them told Lance that he had been a Muslim and converted to Christianity 6 months ago. Another one talking to Branden asked him how she could convert as well, so they put the two kids together to get her into Gaba Community Church.

One of my enormous concerns in this trip was discipleship – going out and “winning” the people to Christ is absolutely useless if there isn’t any infrastructure to help them learn what it means to live a Christian life. I have been very comforted in the fact that this is exactly what Pastor Kennedy’s team of KIU students is doing – and doing so well and with passion.

Since I’m writing this Tuesday morning, I’ll pass on something else we learned as a follow up to the Texas City experience. We have been warned that many of the people we’ll encounter will view us as some kind of gravy train – that the Mzungu will give them lots of money, sponsor their children, pay for their education, take care of all of their needs, etc. Branden talked with one man who said that he was an artist and wanted Branden to hook him up to sell his art work in the US – regardless of whether or not Branden knew anyone who sold art in the US. The most sobering experience belongs to Erika. She took a picture of 3 of the children that she had met in her visit. Their mother had gone to Pastor Ronald afterwards with the understanding that this meant Erika had agreed to sponsor the children. He asked Erika if she had made any promises (of course she hadn’t), and told us that we should not take individual pictures of kids like that.

Finally, I want to try to introduce you to some of the KIU students that we’ve been working with. Today I’d like you to meet Brian. If I can ever get the dance video loaded up you’ll see him. Brian is about 6’5”, skinny and lanky, but can he ever move! He has a smile that is totally infectious and a fabulous sense of humor. And he loves the Lord. When we were all trying to absorb the experience of Texas City, he was around to help bring some reality to us, to let us know that what we were doing WAS valuable, and that we can only do so much – that we can never fix everything. Brian is hoping to begin studies this Fall at Mississippi State University ( he was quite impressed that I knew it was in Hattiesburg!) if he can get the visa worked out. Branden and I have both put him on notice that if and when he makes it over, we’re flying him out to Portland for a visit!

Okay, that’s probably about enough out of me for today. There’s plenty more below from the others.

Alex’ Comments

Hey everyone this is Alex! Just stopped by to give you a quick update on what happened today. Today we went through a place called “Little Texas” - why it’s called that is a mystery to the group. Going through the small back alleys and seeing small children living in an environment like that , pretty much makes you feel like crying right then and there. There isn’t a picture, or video in the world that can describe what we saw there. When going through a back alley, a woman approached us and asked what we were doing. The group I was in, of course, pushed me up to the front to tell her. I explained the gospel to her and what Jesus had done, in about five minutes she accepted Christ as her personal savior. A little bit later we loaded the bus again to go to a high school about twenty minutes away where Sam and I would be sharing our testimonies to a crowd of high school students. Of course I was scared out of my mind and sweating more than a 15 year old Mzungu should. But as soon as Pastor Branden introduced me and pulled me up in front of everyone, I felt calmness that I will never forget. Let’s just say Sam’s and my testimonies went well  Well, I’m getting pretty tired and am having a hard time typing so I think I’ll be going to bed to get ready for tomorrow.

THE KIU STUDENTS & THE DOUBLE OVEN IN THE GREGSON’S (KEN) HOME

Yesterday (Monday) KIU students Patrick , Millicent & I were one of several teams on our way to Texas City, a very poor part of Kampala. I was going to say that Patrick and Millicent were typical KIU students, but there is absolutely nothing typical about any of the KIU students, nothing!!

Like, American kids, they have dreams - an education, marriage, a family & success. What makes them so special is their love, faith & commitment to the Lord. They are part of the United Faith Chapel community led by Pastor Kennedy at Kampala International University.

We have 2 bags of food stuff (staples) to deliver to Rita. It’s 10:15 a.m. Patrick Millcient & I arrive at her home, a 10 by 10 stone shack furnished with a mattress on the left & a very small couch on the right. Rita invites us in. She is unmarried & caring for an infant. She has no food, no job, no way to feed her baby. The food we deliver will feed them for several days. Rita is also taking care of her sister who is about the age of Erika & Kayla, 17 or 18. The sister is sick with a very swollen eye, likely infected.

Patrick & Millicent speak to Rita in the Ugandan Language, & share the good news of Jesus Christ. Their compassion for their faith is on fire and very humbling to me. Millicent is praying in English. The words flow from her mouth, full of compassion and faith. My compassion is for Rita’s physical living conditions, Patrick & Millicent compassion is that she trusts Jesus Christ as her Lord and savior. You see, the KIU students truly believe in their heart of hearts that Jesus will take care of Rita, her baby & sister. Their love & faith in the Lord is impossible to describe. These students are an inspiration to all of us.

As we get ready to leave I ask Patrick if we can leave Rita some money to buy food & for medical attention for her sister. I give Patrick my wad of Ugandan money, 207,000 Ugandan shillings, about $100.00 American. He gives Rita $15,000 Ugandan, enough for food for a week or two & her sisters medical needs, & gives the rest back to me. I’ll let you figure the math (2,000 shillings = approx $1). Patrick, Millicent & I will have two more similar encounters.

My mind turns to the 4,000 square foot home in Wilsonville where Camille, Kam & I live and the new double oven & the new refrigerator & the new dishwasher. Hey they had to be replaced. They were as old as the 4,000 square foot house, built in 1990 that is the home of 3 people. The dishwasher leaked, the ice maker no longer worked on the fridge & the oven---you had to slam the door as hard as you could a couple of times for the digital system to light up. And besides, most of the neighbors replaced theirs years ago & the colors were old & outdated. An inexpensive repair, Camile’s choice was out of the question, they had to be replaced.

You see, Ken had to have the the new stuff and Camille deserved a double oven not just a replacement for the old single one. Several hundred dollars would be spent to the electrician for a conversion from 110 to 220. Not to mention the dollars to the cabinet maker. The bottom line is the new double oven, refrigerator and dishwasher would feed Rita and dozens others for weeks & weeks and help Mother Mary keep the orphanage going for a year.

Patrick & Millicent & the other KIU students. Their fire & spiritual passion to share the good news. I want it! I want to be born again, again. Then there is the daily Starbucks and the ----

Branden’s Comments

What happens when you mix a Kenyan, Rwandan, and me? Well, it is quite the experience. We went out today to the slum like I’m sure you have read, and we gave out food and preached the Good news of Jesus Christ. The problem was that my Kenyan friend Aaron speaks Swahili and English. David, my Rwandan friend speaks French, and I speak English and Spanish. Why is it a problem? Ugandans speak Lugandan.

I know that others have described the state of the slum but they are right. No words, pictures, or video can describe to you the scene. It wrenches your heart to see people living like this with, in our American minds, no hope. The three of us approached a house near the “church” in the slum. The “church” is a stick lean-to in the middle of the houses. We knocked on the door and the woman invited us in.

Ugandans are very hospitable.

We gave her the food and asked a few questions about her beliefs and we found out that she is a Muslim. Islam is growing rapidly in Uganda because of the money they are pouring into the communities down here. We began asking her questions about Islam and the commands she received from the Quran. We began explaining to good news of Jesus Christ, that God, through Jesus atoned for our sins and freed us from the slavery of sin. She looked into my eyes with desperation and said “I would very much like that” I asked her to repeat after me and pray to Jesus and receive his forgiveness. Did I mention that her daughter was there as well? Did I also mention that she received Christ on that day? I have never been able to share my faith with a Muslim let alone have her receive Christ with me in an 8x8ft room in a Ugandan slum. The amazing part isn’t just that she received Christ. It’s that the students at KIU don’t leave without getting their information so that they can get plugged into a discipleship program at any of the local churches. God is moving in the hearts of the Ugandans!

Do you remember me saying that we Americans see no hope?

The Kenyans, Rwandans, and Ugandans that we ministered with see a hope. They see that Jesus is THE only hope. They see that the money we raised at a church in Tualatin paid for the food and supplies didn’t come from us. It came from God. Truly, genuinely, and passionately they believe that Jesus is the great provider.

There is Hope. Jesus IS Hope.

I wonder what would happen if we started looking at the world through those eyes. What if instead of pulling ourselves up by our boot straps we saw that EVERYTHING is a gift from God?

Would we spend differently?

Would we think about how we used our time?

How could we serve at home?

God is at work in Uganda.

God is at work in us.