July 2

We’re back in Kampala. Things are back to normal – the Kampala Philharmonic Canine Choir is in full throttle this morning. Yesterday was a long, miserable trip from the lodge back here interspersed with a couple of moments of levity. I remember distinctly hearing Lance telling Cameron that it would take about 4 hours, Kennedy saying 5. It took 8.

We left the lodge at 10:45 am to catch the 11:00 ferry. Of course, this being Uganda, the ferry didn’t actually leave until 11:30, so we were hanging out around the ferry slip for a while. The Lodge, however, had provided us all with box lunches to take along. There was a bunch of other people, a troop of baboons and a few warthogs hanging out as well. Most of our gang got out to hang out rather than being cooped up in the bus some more.

Pretty soon I hear a couple of the kids talking about “where’s that one going”, then
“Somebody should close the windows.” Too late. One of the baboons leaped up into the window beside where Erika & Nick had been sitting , reached right over Erika’s and grabbed Nick’s. Turned around and jumped back out. I’m quite sure now that baboons can read – Erika had a vegetarian lunch while Nick had a steak sandwich.

A couple of the baboons then went through the various items in the box. At one point a warthog wandered over to begin rooting around at something they had left and the baboons moved off. One of the baboons took the box of mango juice over to a little concrete pad. We were rather surprised that he couldn’t figure out how to insert the straw into it and just bit into it instead. He was rather smart, however, to take it to the concrete since he was then able to lick up whatever spilled.

Once across the Nile for the last time, we headed up to Murchison Falls. We had seen it from a distance on the boat trip, but you can drive up to the top and get a much closer view. Once again, mere words cannot describe it. Think of a river as huge as the Nile being forced through a little crevasse of rock about 20 feet wide and you’ll get some idea. Absolutely awesome!

That little detour led to The Great Tse-Tse Fly Hunt. For some reason I always thought they were tiny bugs, but they’re about the size of a normal house fly. And they have a nasty little mouth, with which they bite mammals and suck blood. Those mammals would include humans. And they swarm the bus – even follow it down the road. A bunch of them followed us down to the Falls parking lot, and by the time we left several of them had moved into the air conditioned comfort, I suppose looking for a leisurely lunch. Ken nailed one on his window with the Uganda guide book. Aaron was chasing others around with an old rag. Lance took off one of his flip flops and splattered one who had already had lunch on his window, which brought a chorus of “EEEEEWWWWW!!!” from all – there was a rather large blood spot on the window in its wake. Cameron grabbed Branden’s pillow and tried to nail one, at which point Branden grabbed Cameron by the neck tightly – I’m assuming to pray for his success. Lance detached Branden before Cameron lost consciousness. (just kidding about the neck grabbing, of course). Hunting them all down took quite a while, but it did help to break up the tedium a little.

Going from the Lodge back to Kampala is in the neighborhood of 250 miles. 150 of that is on dirt road. And the dirt road was badly washboarded and rutted out in numerous places. Made for a very long trip, and we were bouncing around enough that it was next to impossible to sleep. It was a little interesting to watch the landscape transition from savannah at the park back into more jungle like as we got closer to Kampala and there were a few troops of baboons. Otherwise, it was a very long trip. If you’re interested in looking it up on a map, we went from the Paraa Lodge in Murchison Falls National park, via dirt road to Masidi, and then paved road on into Kampala.

Then we got to Kampala. We arrived at the outskirts about 6 pm. We finally pulled into Momma Mumbasa’s for dinner a couple of minutes before 8. The traffic here in the evening is a thing to behold. Actually, if you can avoid beholding it, that would be preferable. I told Michael that it was a good thing he was driving because if it had been me I’d be in jail after having run over about 500 boda-boda’s (motorcycles) . There are no rules in traffic here except for “the bravest one wins”. And let me tell you – some of them are pretty danged brave! To quote Branden “I think I’m ready to get back to a little order.”

But I also noticed how alive the city was at that time. In addition to the motorcycle and vehicle traffic, the streets were packed with throngs of people. I think of the US and doubt highly that you would see that many people walking down streets that were pavement-dirt-storefront. It has a vibrancy that is pretty cool. It also has air that had all of our eyes burning and our throats raw by the time we got to dinner.

So today is another play day – hanging out with our brothers and sisters from KIU and going shopping. It’s our last full day in Africa. Where has the time gone? As we prepare to leave, I find myself dealing with some very mixed emotions. I miss my wife and son terribly – I don’t believe I’ve been separated from Linda for this length of time since we started dating around 25 years ago. I miss the food, my home, my routine. But I’m also going to miss this place, the people. I’ve made what I consider to be some very good friends here, people who I will cherish. And there is so much more that needs to be accomplished. So leaving also brings a sadness.

Once again, I’ll try to wrangle someone else to add some thoughts, but to be honest it’s very much like herding cats. Let’s see, the priorities are taking pictures, talking and laughing, listening to ipods, reading, sleeping, swimming, showering, putting on makeup, and pretty much any other activity other than writing something for me to post in the blog.

By the way, in case I haven’t mentioned it, Alex has now officially been dubbed “Pastor Alex”. When he’d get up to share, it floored all of us and the young man has blossomed (just as many of us had predicted).

Kam & Ken’s comments:
A quick story from our Sunday trip to the IDP camp. We have delivered food and shared the Good News of Jesus to several households (tiny shacks). Virtually all are single mothers, at least there are no men around. Up until we meet Becky none have spoken English. They all graciously accept the small amount of food we leave and accept Jesus. Sometimes, at least for us when we have to rely on an interpreter we just don’t know for sure that the message truly was accepted or understood. It was very difficult to deduce whether the individual had wanted Jesus or said they did in order to ensure that they received food. We have to remember that we are the hands and feet of Jesus delivering the message of salvation and the Holy Spirit takes over from there.
Then we meet Becky. She is a lovely young African mother with a small baby. She speaks very fluent English. She is very hospitable. She brings out several chairs and takes us to the hut next door where there is a large mat. Dad & I share the Gospel and pray a blessing over her family. She eagerly accepts Jesus as her personal savior. As we prepare to leave we notice another young mother at the adjacent hut. One of the most amazing experience’s of our trip to Africa is that Becky, who just received Christ 2 minutes earlier helps us share Jesus with her neighbor. In fact Becky does most of the talking. Her neighbor receives Christ and we see the Holy Spirit already at work in Becky. What a blessing it was for us!
We have truly seen God at work in Africa, over and over and over again. We have learned not to let the little things get to us, and we pray when we return to the USA that we don’t get reprogrammed to the American way. For example, the traffic in Kampala is totally indescribable. It truly is the law of the jungle. Mothers nurse their children everywhere including when we are sharing the Good News of Jesus. Forget about refrigeration, a butcher shop is a small shack with the meat just hanging out in the not so fresh air of Kampala. The list of things that would bother many Americans goes on and on. We Americans get so caught up in being politically correct or we want everyone else in the USA to do things our way. Africans just live their lives, trying to raise their children and survive.