Mon., 02 May, En Route
After a morning of scrambling to pack last-minute things, including my battery of lectures and sermons, there is hardly time to visit with my kids or enjoy the special breakfast that Paula made. How can I organize myself to spend less time at work and more time with the children God has given me?
On the drive to the St. Louis airport, my son, Beni, read from our John Piper devotional book about the "touch of God," beginning from the account in Kings where the followers of David were described as "men whose hearts God had touched." Piper's question touched me, "How does the massive planet Jupiter touch a speck of dust?" That really puts into perspective the condescension of God. Marvellous.
The airports are looking more like subways every day - dark and gloomy, concrete and flourescent lights, and lots of uniformed officials. My tax money seems to pay salaries for more and more people who do less and less practically for me. Instead of checking my bags at the ticket counter, I now have to carry my bags to the transportation police.
On to the Atlanta airport. We met our teammates, Beverly and Paula. I'm a little nervous about taking an older woman who does not seem culturally flexible. She asked right off what she was going to eat in Uganda because she had heard that boiled eggs were the main source of protein, and she said she couldn't stand boiled eggs. After a few minutes, I read to her from Luke 10, where Jesus says two times to eat what they serve you. Lest I become too smug, Jesus goes on to say, "Do not move from house to house" - uh oh, I've certainly blown it on that one!
We arrived in London exhausted, but hit the ground running with a whirlwind tour of the city. My impressions of London were: very expensive, teeming with people, witty people, hospitable people, yet a minimum of safety measures and an expectation to watch out for yourself. The tube would never pass American safety standards, but Londoners are told to "Mind the Gap," and they live with the risks. There is a much smaller margin between cars on the streets, too. Amazingly, to an American, it works! Maybe the USA has gone overboard in legislating public safety.
Wed, 04 May, Arrival
The smaller, older plane we took into Uganda must have had larger seats - or maybe it made all the difference to get an aisle seat, but anyway, I dozed more successfully. On the plane, I sat next to an older lady who had attended a PCA church and was a missionary with the Baptists in Uganda. It looked like many of the whites on the plane might have been involved in mission or development work. I talked to a college-age girl in the visa line who said she was doing development work in the Congo. She was from France and was travelling solo. I don't think I could send a daughter that young alone to an area like that, but it seems this is a much more trusting and trustworthy culture. Our checked bags sat out for hours untended while we were going through the visa line yet were not stolen. There was nobody even in the customs area to check us. What a contrast from Atlanta and London!
We were welcomed warmly by the whole Regional Committee at the airport. Pastor Ed Kasaija prayed for us, and his prayer showed remarkable insight into our spiritual state and our physical needs. My eyes hurt so bad from exhaustion that I didn't see much on the drive to our quarters. Some things I did notice: at the airport were exotic flowers I'd never seen before and a tree with weaver-bird nests just like the one we saw the month before at the St. Louis Zoo, but this one was alive with birds! Further impressions were the greenness of the land, banana trees, and lots of little shops on dirt side-roads with an occasional termite mound of red earth five feet high. On the drive, I got to know Sam Bongole a little bit. He is quiet, but a good communicator. He has a diploma in business administration, loves numbers, has three children (ages 8, 6, and 2), built a school only to have it flooded last year, so now he is re-building on higher ground. He had 250 students, 100 of whom were Muslims. Some Muslims have since built another school and are offering practically-free tuition, so he lost students to that , too. Between the flooding and the Muslims he lost about half his students.
The guest house is a big concrete structure with wrought-iron windows, at the end of a dirt road. Rashid had to take a running start to get the van to drive up the hill. The main level has a large room with bay windows, plastic chairs and table, with four bedrooms and a kitchen opening off it. Wyatt and I were given a bedroom on one side, and the women a wing of their own on the other. The other two bedrooms appear to be occupied by Ugandans, but they are very quiet. They served breakfast of bread and butter, tea, and little sweet bananas like the ones from my wife's childhood home in Florida. The house is very clean, the beds nicely made, and even the bathroom in the Entebbe Airport was sparkling - all cleaner than what I would have found in the USA or England.
It's disconcerting to see black people here in Uganda dressed in modest, conservative clothes, with serious, responsible, friendly faces, walking normally without a strut. So different from African-Americans. How has America so failed at producing models among blacks while African blacks outclass the American ones? Is it the missionaries?
I dozed to try to get my eyes to stop burning, but it was not easy due to the fact that the construction workers who were finishing the top floor of the guest house chose that time to pound on the walls with hammers and throw steel beams around the upstairs floor - which was also the roof of my room! I caught a few winks anyway before they served a wonderful lunch of chicken curry, potatoes, and green beans.
Our 2pm meeting with the Regional Committee was convened by Pastor Ed Kasaija, at 3pm, right on time by African standards, it seems. Present were Fred Kabenge, Patrick Bukenya, James Yiga, Robert Bagonza, Bob-Gad Kalowya, Rashid Luswe, "Pastor George Wyatt" (as the Ugandans called him), Beverly Moye, Paula Bonner, and myself. We set a schedule for the coming weeks which addressed the various priorities for our respective interests, then adjourned.
Thu, 05 May, Kitintale Seminar
After a night of sleep in a real bed and a hot shower I feel like a new man! Sure, I’m not adjusted to the time difference, there were dogs barking all night, and lots of strange sounds living in a house with other Ugandan families that is also undergoing construction in the basement and upstairs, but I was tired enough to sleep anyway! The view of Lake Victoria from the main room is beautiful. The caretakers of Dr. Krabbendam’s house have gardens around the house, growing cassava, papaya, bananas, green beans, and a whole field of aloe vera as a cash crop for medicinals. It also appears that the locals dip water out of the underground water tank next to our bedroom.
Patrick Bukenya drove us to Kitintale church – over an hour’s drive away. I was impressed at the industry of the people here; lots of bikes, mopeds, taxi busses, trucks, and private cars bumper-to-bumper, and all the streets lined with small businesses. Larger businesses were visible as we got closer to downtown Kampala and modern skyscrapers in the center. It is nice to at least be able to read the signs and advertisements – English is the trade language here. In other countries where I couldn’t even read the signs, I felt much more confused. The Africans prefer to talk to each other in Lugandan, but they speak English to us.
Kitintale church is being remodeled from its original wood post-and-slat structure to a new brick-and-mortar structure. They are just building a stone wall around the old wooden ones and will remove the old building from the center of the new building when it's done! Pastor Robert requested that we help them raise money to finish the new building, particularly to put a roof on it. They have a big sound system and are blaring music. Robert Bagonza is the pastor here; he also is a shampoo maker. He looks just like Eddie Murphy, but with a very serious face. He has two children, but his wife died 8 years ago. He is courting a lady named Monica, who is a member of the church, a single mom with four children. Monica has a used shoe business, operating out of a stall that she rents in the mornings. After an hour or two, Immanuel Armstrong stepped in. He used to be a school administrator but is unemployed as of this writing.
The TMP committee members for this church are Deacon Armstrong (Chairman), Monica (Treasurer), Richard (Secretary), and Robert Bagonza (representative elder). They filled us in on the statistics of the TentMaker Project at Kintintale. Businesses assisted include: foodstuffs, charcoal, drink kiosk, carpentry, cosmetics, poultry businesses - fifteen in all, financed through TMP. Ten loans were extended in 2001, and five more recently. The total amount was 2,080,000 = (Ugandan schillings). Three recipients dropped out and can’t be found now. Repayment has not been complete, although a couple are doing well. The recipients are saving, tithing, educating their children, buying more equipment for work, and building houses for themselves. Armstrong emphasized that even though no one had finished paying back the entirety of their loan, they are showing progress in the above ways. However some are requesting more in loans to help them pay back their initial loans. Robert expressed concern over how much dependence there is. Yet he says to be sure to pass on thanks to the people in the USA: “We don’t know where to begin and where to end in saying thanks.” He pledged to do his best to be faithful with the funds. They also have a “worker’s project” where they meet regularly and all bring an agreed-upon amount of money. They pool as a “savings circle” and give it all to a different person each meeting. Pastors are also pooling their tithes and making micro-loans to their members from that pool.
Wyatt began his seminar, including an overview of the TentMaker Project, its policies, and a survey on the topics of stewardship, profit, tithing, saving, business ethics, work motives, debt, budgeting, and business practice.
Interesting how little response there was to Wyatt’s humor. They sat deadpan at attention – about twenty of them (more than half of whom were women). The only thing that got them saying “Amen” was when we talked about the potential of them having more money. At times it rained so hard on the tin roof that the blaring P.A. system was needful over the din of rain. I videotaped the three hours of Wyatt’s lectures in hopes of providing the seminar through audio or video tapes in the future. Wyatt seemed to do a good job – he’s obviously done it several times before.
We stopped half-way through for lunch. Some ladies in the church served matoke, boiled potatoes, and rice, with a pea sauce, a green bean sauce, and a meat sauce. The sauces were very salty and spicy – very tasty to make up for the blandness of the matoke, which tasted like mashed potatoes, but was from a banana-like fruit. I noticed several people only served themselves rice or matoke. Wyatt and I and the pastor were given plastic lawnchairs and forks; everyone else sat on wooden benches and ate with their hands. The bathroom was an outhouse with a hole in the floor. On the way home, I saw more than one man relieving himself in full view of the road without the benefit of even an outhouse.
One of the teenage girls engaged me in conversation; she asked how I liked the lunch, and I think I blew her mind when I said I had never had matoke before. It also blew her mind to find out I had 8 children with one wife in fifteen years. Ugandans don’t seem to have large numbers of children, and many of the church leaders are delaying having children. I suspect they have gotten tons of indoctrination in American ways of thinking about the family from tons of development agencies. Half the billboards downtown were public service ads – many for condoms, with pictures of a man and wife with one happy child.
I was geared up to do my Old Testament seminar on missions for two hours, but since we started two hours later than scheduled, I was just given the floor when Patrick arrived to pick us up. I got in a five-minute teaser about the Abrahamic Covenant. I don’t know if it interested anyone. I’m supposed to do adult Sunday School and the Sermon plus an afternoon workshop there on Sunday.
On the way home, Patrick said he was paid by Dr. Krabbendam and would eventually start a business later when there was start-up funding. At one point I heard a ping under the front tire and a clatter on the highway. The next time Patrick applied the brakes he got a panicked look and said his brakes weren’t working! We limped along to the nearest garage where they opened up the wheel and found one brake shoe missing and the other worn down to the quick. We eventually made it back to the lodge at 6:30pm and debriefed with our other teammates who had spent the day with Rashid touring the Institute for the Blind and Rashid’s boarding school. A guard at the school was killed a few weeks ago, so Rashid was armed with a pistol an had hired a guard with a military rifle (the previous guard only had a bow and arrows).
As I was about to excuse myself for bed, Robert came in with his wife and boy and a neighbor who had been trained through the U.N. to teach business start-up seminars. It would cost about $200 for 20 students for a week. Do we take advantage of a good professional resource, or do we keep this church-based and insist on a Biblical basis for our training? Robert brought the issue up, and the woman said that we all follow the same God – Muslims, Hindus, Anglicans, etc. Robert stopped her cold by asking why the religions didn’t intermarry.
Fri, 06 May, Kitintale Visits
Wyatt advertised yesterday that anyone with disabilities should meet with our female team members this morning, so they came, expecting to be healed of various diseases, only to find that Paula Bonner was only intending to teach them how to take care of blind people. Meanwhile, I videotaped an interview with pastor Robert Bagonza.
A teenage girl in the church taught me some phrases in Lugandan:
A Christian greeting is “Praise the Lord” = Mukama Yebazibwe
The response to this is “Amen” = Amiina
Mukama is the word for the Lord, whereas the word Katonda is used for God the creator.
How are you? = Olyo’tya
Fine = Jendi
Pastor/Shepherd = Omusumba
Let’s go=Tu Gende, You all should go=MuGende, Let him go=Muleke Gende
Gift=Echilabo
Thank you: Nayazzizah (upon physically receiving a gift) or Webalay (after the fact)
No, thank you=Sagala
You’re Welcome or O.K. = Kaale
What’s Your name? = Gwaoanay
I’m sorry=N’Sanuwa
I don’t know=Semanjay
We went out for lunch in a deluge and went up to Fred Kabenge’s church and house in Mutungo, but the rain had washed ruts so deep in the dirt road that the bus high-centered and got stuck. The Ugandans kept trying to push the van out, but to no avail. I offered to help, but they deferred me – I guess they didn’t want a guest of honor to get dirty helping. Finally, I grabbed the jack, raised the back of the van, and had the men push the van over so that it would fall with the wheels straddling the rut, and off we went, covered with mud from the escapade.
Other highlights:
I got to tell an evangelistic story to a crowd of children at the brick kiln.
I got to taste jackfruit. It’s the consistency of string cheese, but with a pineapple flavor – and a little kerosene flavor.
Prayed blessings on and read scripture to a couple of loan recipients and potential loan recipients.
Everybody is building brick houses these days.
I discovered that power supply in Uganda is unpredictable. There are only two power plants, and one of them is frequently called upon to supply power to Kenya, providing much-needed income in Uganda. However, when the power is going to Kenya, it shuts off in Uganda! We never knew whether we would come home in the evening to candlelight or light bulbs. The Ugandans were used to it and didn’t skip a beat.
The loan recipients we visited today are as follows:
Pastor Robert – shampoo maker
Jim – fruit stand just outside Kitintale church building
Sarah Kwagale – started selling snacks, now selling charcoal in neighborhood of Kitintale church
Rose – making bricks
Deborah – near Mutungo – poultry and egg business. Building a house. Pray for her non-believing children.
Mugisha Augustine – barber (Whether for men or women, the Ugandans call the shop a salon, but since they have no short “o” sound, they pronounce it “saloon.”) He wants to get his first loan to rent a space at a busier location.
Monica – engaged to pastor Robert, mother of 4, started with a food vending stand, but it didn’t make enough profit, so she’s now selling used shoes and building a rental house
Immaculate – Her non-Christian husband has pressured her to develop her successful food business into a night club, and it looks like a lively bar. We ate a snack lunch here.
Shortly after the power went out in the evening, Wyatt’s adopted son, Boaz, came to visit. He had no hair or eyebrows, and his hands looked like “flooglies” from the Spy Kids movies. Wyatt told me later that he had been burned badly as a child and his current condition is the result of the makeshift skin-grafting available to him in Uganda. He wanted his picture taken with each of us Muzungus. He’s in some kind of college-level international business study program. He was the only Ugandan that I met who was the hugging type. He was also the best conversationalist (in English) I met, although he also spoke with the strongest interposition of l’s and r’s that I encountered in all the Ugandans I talked to. (The Lugandan language is apparently similar to Chinese in the respect of having no distinction between those two letters, but many of the Ugandans were able to hear and correct for it to some degree in their English.)
Sat, 07 May, Kitintale Visits
I’m sick today – achy all over, but today is another loan recipient visitation day.
I was the first one up this morning and got a good hour praying, watching the sun rise over Lake Victoria, and reading the Bible. I’m in Ezra now and was struck at the deviousness of the enemies of God’s people, first seeking to infiltrate and undermine by offers of help, then seeking to intimidate by twisting the truth to put them out of favor with the higher authorities. God’s people refused the offers of help from God’s enemies, yet they stopped when the authorities told them to stop, recommencing only when God, through His prophets, said to build the temple (even though the state authorities had not given permission).
We spent the morning visiting with Carol Arnold (wife of the late Jack Arnold who started Equipping Pastor International), Dan Mountain and his wife, and a lawyer named Jonathan were also there with EPI.
Our first stop was late in the morning at the Kitintale church building, with a woman named Mai. Her husband left her, she has AIDS, has 4 children (one of whom also has HIV), her vegetable kiosk was damaged, and she cannot earn enough to cover her living costs, much less pay back her loan. She asked for financial help, but she was afraid to try to take out a second loan. Wyatt suggested she apply for our Educational Assistance program, since she didn’t want to take her children out of school. We laid hands on her and prayed and gave her words of encouragement. My heart breaks to hear Mai’s story.
Our second stop was with Chris, a photocopier at a university. He paid off his first loan to buy paper and just got a second loan in February. He dreams of renting a bigger place and buying his own photocopier and a large stock of paper at bulk price to get maximum return on investment. He’s young – still in college, but is the chairman of the church savings circle. Pastor Robert copied off his dowry contract and asked for prayer that God provide the money to underwrite this (about $1,500). Meanwhile, Wyatt found out that retail space is charged by the square foot. Noticing that Chris’ current space has a very high ceiling, he suggested that Christ could keep his current space (at lower rent) and build shelves up to the ceiling. The thought of vertical expansion was a new idea to a man thinking in terms of square footage!
Since throwing up after our first visit, I felt weak and queasy, so I didn’t eat anything for lunch, even though they took us to a nice restaurant. I knew it was a nice restaurant because it had a porcelain toilet and a sink with running water in the bathroom instead of the typical outhouse with nothing but a hole in the floor.
We then went to a carpentry shop where we met Godfrey. He is a big, strong man with obvious skill in carpentry. I respect him immediately. His shop, however, is outdoors, and the owner of the plot will not allow him to put a roof over his head, so he can’t work in the afternoons during rainy season due to rain, and he can’t work in the afternoon during dry season due to the heat. The machinery and power to operate it is expensive. He got a loan this year and has paid a little back already, but he wants a bigger loan to rent a covered building.
At Wyatt’s request, we stop and descend into the bowels of a building in the downtown area. In a cave-like basement, perhaps 15 by 20 feet in size, are four salons and three electronics repair businesses! Joseph, whom Wyatt adopted and sent through tech school, is one of the latter, specializing in synthesizer repair. His shop is conveniently located under the biggest musical instrument store in town.
As we drive home, I am struck at the wholesomeness of Ugandan culture compared to the culture of London. Here, the women wear traditional dresses, there is no pornography visible, the billboards are family-friendly, and there is no public display of affection between the sexes. I’m sure there must be undercurrents of sin, but in Uganda it isn’t obvious to my eyes. The church groups are full of well-dressed, friendly, intelligent, brightly-smiling people. Bras are not part of the traditional dress, but the way the average woman carries herself, it is not provocative. I get the impression, however, that a lot of the young ladies throw their chests out when they walk just to show off. That’s certainly not unique to Uganda, though.
08 May, Lord’s Day, Kitintale
I’m at the Kitintale church all day today. Between Pastor Bagonza’s prayer yesterday, the charcoal, and a good night’s sleep, I feel totally well today – praise the Lord! I woke up this morning to watch our new roommate trying to get Wyatt to stop snoring. He tried yelling Wyatt’s name, shining his flashlight at him, and trying to roll him over. I don’t think he realized I was awake and laughing at him.
The power has been out for two days, and the water went out yesterday, so I couldn’t get water to even wash my face this morning, and now, at the end of the day, I feel really greasy!
At breakfast, I asked Dan Mountain, the new director of Equipping Pastor International, what motivated the local pastors to ask us Americans to preach. He said he hadn’t really thought about it. Wyatt suggested that it demonstrates how Christianity is for all tribes and not just the tribe of the pastor. Don added that he thought it was a status symbol: if you can attract people from America, you gain status in the eyes of fellow-Ugandans and more people will come to your church. These pastors, however, know the language and culture, and they know the Bible, so it’s hard for me to see much good in us Americans filling their pulpits. I did it anyway.
Pastor Robert started every meeting with a booming “HA-LE-LU-IA” over the P.A. system, followed by various youth choir ensembles singing praise songs to the skillful accompaniment of a synthesizer player who coaxed a rich sound out of that little Yamaha, including drums. The songs were mostly repetitive upbeat praise choruses such as, “I will sing Hosanna… I will shout Hosanna… I will clap Hosanna… I will jump Hosanna… I will sit Hosanna…” Makes me wonder if they know what “Hosanna” means.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so unprepared to teach. As I reviewed my notes, I realized that they were filled with idioms, American illustrations, and English Bible phrases. I suddenly felt like it would be utter foolishness to stand up and speak. When I stood up, I sputtered for a minute, trying to figure out how to start. As soon as I got the first few words out of my mouth, I was interrupted by the interpreter who was trying to provide an interpretation of my splutterings, and then I was off trying to start again. I found myself going on long rabbit trails, trying to explain secondary points, but before I knew it, an hour was up and I had gotten through all four pages of my notes on the Old Testament basis for missions!
I had no idea what the people thought of it, but afterwards they asked very insightful questions which left me thinking maybe I had pitched it too low. Beverly, who went with me to teach the children’s Sunday school, said that the kids knew the stories of every Bible character mentioned in Hebrews 11. They must be getting excellent Bible teaching.
When I was speaking, the pastor did his best to make my voice boom by switching microphones on me and turning up the volume. I tried to accommodate by “eating” the mic, but it is ingrained in me to hold it at chin level and speak in a dignified volume.
I was sweltering in my suitcoat under that hot tin roof, dreading having to fill another hour’s worth of time teaching. On the spur of the moment, during the worship service, I decided to do my “Prepared for the Great Commission” sermon. Later on in the service, a deacon came to me and asked what my text would be, so I gave him Matt 28:18-20. As time got closer to the sermon, I started panicking about it, wishing I hadn’t committed myself to that, but once again, after a halting start, I got to the end of my notes and an hour had flashed by.
It is such a challenge to teach through a translator. I have to chop my thoughts up so small and re-adjust my vocabulary and idioms at the same time to make it easier to translate, and then I wonder if the translator got it right, so I grope for synonyms and restate my point in different words just to make sure. Again the questions were insightful, such as “Why didn’t God save many Gentiles in the O.T.?”
We took a taxi bus to lunch at the same upscale restaurant as yesterday, and this time I was able to order and eat. (I had a Ugandan sausage – like a summer sausage served hot – and French fries!) An unwed mother from the church was with us to interpret, and she said that my teaching was very clear and that it was not a subject she had heard taught on before.
Godfrey the carpenter also came to lunch with us. We met his wife afterwards. They had seven children, which seems unusual here. He asked about how we educated our children, and how carpentry in the USA worked. He was about the only man who stayed for the evening service, aside from two teenage boys. I wonder if the female leadership in the singing and praying of that church tends to discourage male involvement?
As I was standing up to give a 45-minute exposition of Matt 9:36-38, Pastor Robert said, “You have an hour and a half.” Having no idea how I would fill that much time, I embarked on that awkward dance again with the translator. The only positive thing about translation is that I have several seconds to collect my thoughts on a regular basis while the congregation is listening to the interpreter. I went through the passage, told stories about answers to prayer, did a survey of prayer in the Epistles, a Caleb Project World View Demonstration (without props!), fielded questions, and sat down an hour and a half later.
Then they prayed – holding hands in groups, all of them praying out loud at once. I really think they got my message. They were really thinking and praying about missions. Their questions were very insightful on mission strategy. Godfrey asked about the strategy of targeting responsive vs. unresponsive fields. How exciting it would be if God were to use me to start a missionary movement from Uganda!
By this time it was 5:30pm, and I was expecting to go home. But no! Pastor Robert asked if I could come back up and teach for 45 more minutes! Beverly came to my rescue and offered to do a lesson with informal Q&A time. She refused to use the microphone and told everyone to move to the front of the room so they could hear her. (Oh the things that an older lady can get away with!) After her lesson on Proverbs 3:5, she opened the floor for questions. One teenage boy asked why Christians suffer, and a teenage girl asked when the Christians were going to be blessed. Pastor Robert and his wife-to-be must be walking concordances; they came right up with scriptures to answer those questions.
Finally we make it back to the guest house. As we talk with the other guests into the twilight hours, I find out that a girl was saved under my roommate’s teaching. He also taught me a good way to respond to an email correspondent I was debating dispensationalism with. Well, if God can use a donkey, he can use an immature roommate… oh, and He can even use me! I am strongly refreshed. Teaching is such an ecstatic frame of mind for me that I guess it didn’t tire me out much. (I also found out later that a lot of people in the USA were praying for me not to be tired today.)
Mon, 09 May, Jinja
I took off my watch today – This is Africa, after all, and I haven’t really used it except to see if it is late enough in the morning to get out of bed. After breakfast, one of the masons responsible for all the banging around upstairs sought me out to give me an art gallery brochure on Dr. Kefa Sempangi, who graduated from Westminster Seminary, founded First Presbyterian Church in Kampala and now works in politics. He apparently dabbles in art, too. Like so many others, the mason asked for my email address. I already get emails about once a day from Africa asking for money or offering to transfer millions of bogus money into my bank account – what am I up for when I get home from this trip??
We took a LONG drive around lake Victoria until we got to the Nile river, where it comes out of the lake and starts heading toward Egypt and the Mediterranean. We stopped to eat at a Chinese restaurant. It looked so out-of-place in Uganda. It looked like any Chinese restaurant in the USA, but was smack in the middle of the jungle using paints and building materials and designs which exist nowhere else in Uganda as far as I can tell. It cost only slightly more than what lunch would cost at a comparable restaurant in the States, and the only differences from American Chinese restaurants were these: Goat was offered as a choice of meat, there were no Chinese staff, and there were no fortune cookies after the meal. I was surprised how much I appreciated hearing familiar American pop music at the restaurant. I haven’t heard much music at all in Uganda, and the music I have heard I haven’t been able to make sense of.
We pulled into a riverside park and took a ride in a large wooden canoe with an outboard motor on it. It was quite comfortable as long as we were in the shade, but hot and sticky in direct sunlight. Not unlike other rivers and freshwater lakes I’ve been on before, although there was a super-abundance of waterfowl: cormorants, white kingfishers, white egrets, black egrets, blue herons, storks, and weaver birds, all fishing on the edges of the river. It is a big, deep river with green vegetation right down to both banks. I picked up seven stones from the point where the waters of Lake Victoria join with the underground springs to form the start of the Nile River.
We then drove downriver a bit to a set of waterfalls. Because of the hydroelectric dam further down, the falls were not as high as the Niagara, but it looked like a comparable amount of water. Mighty shoulders of green liquid poured over five different cliffs. Absolutely splendid. I found myself singing the Doxology over and over again to Koinonea’s new tune. (The style sounds similar in my ear to Ugandan music, but it seemed to baffle the Ugandans when I sang it to them on Sunday afternoon - they couldn’t pick up on it. I later figured out that what sounded the same was the rhythm, but since the melody structure was based on a Western scale and Jazz chords rather than on the simple Pentatonic scale commonly used in Uganda, it still sounded foreign to the Ugandans.)
Anyway, as we were discussing if these high rapids could be navigated, over the top came three white kayakers! It seemed utterly foolhardy, but they made it down, flipping upside down and every which-way and submerging for breathtaking amounts of time. I wished I could have had my family with me there; they would have loved it, watching the river pound through the rapids and playing on the shore with the birds. We also saw a Ugandan acrobat with a lame leg balance a pole upright on the ground and climb up it 20 feet into the air, and dance and blow a whistle up there in time to the drummers who accompanied him!
The drive home was long and tiring. I feel like I’ve had all I can take of seeing new sights, meeting new people, smelling car fumes, and seeing teeming masses of Ugandans lining the roads. I just want to go home, yet I’m not even a third of the way into this trip. Lord help me. Beverly wanted to talk the whole way home and I just wanted to be quiet. She has great insights, though. She’s decided there are some missing links in the TMP training seminars that needs to be addressed in order to improve our success as a project. Partly as a result of this, Wyatt is developing a new accounting training spreadsheet and plans to try it out in the seminar tomorrow.
Now I’m in bed under the mosquito net to escape the bugs, listening to the rats squeaking as they raid the kitchen – and to the crickets chirping outside. It’s apparently a nice house by Ugandan standards, but it is not bug-proof. The windows have permanently-open louvers above the glass. At least we have meal service and even laundry service. What a luxury to just leave the laundry outside the dormitory door and find it clean and pressed at the end of the day!
Tue, 10 May, Mutungo Seminar
Elder Barry was at breakfast. He talked a lot, but I sensed it was because he was so excited about ministry in Uganda that he wanted to draw everyone into it. So many American pastors are coming through this guest house. I have no doubt that Ugandan pastors who have attached themselves to ACTI are drawing donations from multiple churches who do not know of each other, and some are getting quite wealthy in this manner.
We arrived at Mutungo church, where the TMP extended its first loans. Its location close to trees, its brick walls, and high roof make it much cooler than the Kitintale church. The pastor is Fred Kabenge, who has obviously adopted some American ways. He’s one of the only Ugandan men I’ve seen wearing reading glasses. He also wears blue jeans, and is the first pastor I’ve seen wearing a T-shirt instead of a button-down. I recall hearing that in some countries, blue jeans are considered dressier than nice slacks because they are so much more expensive to import from the USA.
About 23 others attended the TMP seminar that Wyatt put on. Only three of them were men. It seemed that the Kitintale church was at least 70% women, too. This church seems more reserved, though. They don’t have a P.A. system or synthesizer. Singing was with drums and voices, but not as active and enthusiastic as the Kitintale church. Armstrong interpreted for Wyatt. I had a good conversation with him about child-rearing. Although he is a single man, he has adopted nine nieces and nephews! He is the first Ugandan man to talk with me about his family as a priority for ministry. He said that his family is his first ministry and asked me how I was able to keep that priority with so many children of my own. He said that, although the church people are not promiscuous, rape is still a big problem. He deals with this by keeping his girls busy with church activities. With the numbers of virgins lost in the context of youth groups in the USA, I was left wondering if this man’s strategy would be effective in Uganda.
After presenting a seminar at the Mutungo church, we met with the church committee that oversees the TMP there. This included Ketura (Treasurer), Deacon James, Elder Moses and his wife Millie (Chairman), and Rita (Secretary). Moses was not able to come, so Pastor Fred sat in.
They gave a report of loans and repayments with commendations of two people who paid back. From 1999 to 2004, thirty-six loans had been extended, and all but two have paid back. There is apparently a third defaulter from among the six more loans extended in 2004. These three defaulters left the church and quit paying. Two, however, have been contacted and have promised to get back on track with loan payments. Depending on the faithfulness of those two to fulfill their promise, that’s an encouragingly small default rate of only 2 to 7%! No record of repayment contracts was available. Pastor Fred says that the TMP is really helping with unemployment, but the profits have not been enough to cover all their needs. Businesses are still young and weak. There have been fewer diaconal needs, however. The TMP recipients meet monthly at the church building, and that is a good thing. Pastor Fred also has started his own micro-enterprise revolving loan fund, and said that in time they might not need TMP loans any more! That news enthralled Wyatt.
The committee graded TMP as a C (average), but it appeared that they were grading their own businesses rather than the TMP structure. They said we have a program that “works” and is “slow but sure.” They said they needed better marketing strategy for their businesses. It would be good if we could get some successful entrepreneurs to teach business strategy to these folks to supplement the Biblical teaching that Wyatt and I can provide. We also need to emphasize the repayment contract in future seminars.
Wed, 11 May, Mutungo Visits
I woke up at 5:30 this morning to the sound of the guy next door throwing up. Then a gully-washer rainstorm swept over the place and knocked out the power. I figure a cold shower is still better than no shower. I’m still basking in the afterglow of getting to talk to my wife on the phone for an hour last night! Dear Lord, may Your “good hand” be on her and our children.
As I’m reading in Ezra, I am struck that the early church missionaries who converted the king and worked under his political influence were not unlike Ezra, who obviously sold King Artaxerxes on the power of God and the excellence of His law and His worship. The king had a great deal of trust in Ezra, even giving him authority to govern all the provinces between the Jordan and the Mediterranean, executing the death sentence and everything according to Mosaic law and to exacting revenue for temple-building from the treasuries of the local provinces! Ezra also is a model of accountability in the way he handled the temple utensils, keeping himself and the priests accountable by a record-keeping process each time it changed hands until it was placed in the temple.
I wonder why the Levites didn’t want to come at first to Jerusalem? Ezra had to go on a special recruiting mission to get some. Ezra believed they were necessary even though they would be a financial “drain” on the resources of his entourage. But God blessed Ezra because (7:9-10) he had “set his heart” to study, obey, and teach the law of the Lord.
We spent the morning in two teams, visiting TMP recipients in Mutungo. Ketura, Patrick Bukenya, Paula Bonner, and I were on a team together. We started with Ketura’s charcoal stand. She paid her loan back within six months and wants another loan. With that fast a turnaround, we think she could have saved trouble by paying back the loan at a slower rate so that she would still have the capital and not need another loan so soon. Then we saw Luke’s pork butchery – he is a very enterprising manager with a butchery, grill, and restaurant as well as another business in another location. Our last stop before lunch was Betty’s fruit stand. She was very poor and her husband died. She had to send her three kids to live with her mom, then one of her kids died. She can’t make enough money to save and doesn’t feel she can afford to tithe. My heart went out to her. I read Psalm 13 to her, but it felt like I couldn’t do enough to help her.
Paula and Beverly are really getting a kick out of these interviews. This is the kind of thing we could consistently use donors to do on trips. The donors bring accountability directly! Paula grilled the people she interviewed much closer than I was comfortable with.
While we waited for Wyatt and Beverly and pastor Fred, who comprised the other team, I went and played soccer with five kids in the vacant lot next to the church building. That was a lot of fun. I was not as good as the kids on the other team, but I was better than the kids they put on my team. Teamwork was non-existent. We lost 2-4. I was sweating profusely. After the game, I offered them all a breath mint and suddenly there were five times as many children with their hands out, wanting one of my candies!
Next stop was Deacon James. He has a barbeque joint, a shoe shop, and his wife runs a grocery store. He has been expanding business well, but did not have the right idea about the TMP and used his loans to pay family needs. He still hasn’t paid the loan back four years later…
The ground everywhere in Kampala is red clay. It gets all over our shoes and clothes, and a fine orange dust covers the concrete floors. The women of the church laughed at the orange knees of my jeans yesterday. Reminds me of the bluegrass song by Sons and Brothers, “Red Clay Halo”
“It’s mud in the spring and it’s dust in the summer, and it flows in a crimson tide, ‘Till the trees and the leaves and the cows are the color of the dirt on the mountainside.
It’s under my nails and it’s under my color, and it shows on my Sunday clothes. Though I do my best with the soap and the water, that dadgum dirt won’t go!
When I pass through the pearly gates will my crown be gold instead, or a red clay robe with red clay wings, and a red clay halo for my head?”
Lunch at a western-style food mall and then to the parliament/government area where we interviewed Rose at a snack stand in the craft fair park. This single mother bought a refrigerator with loan money so now she can sell sodas, and she’s doing a fair profit. Cokes cost about thirty cents here in Uganda.
Thu, 12 May, Nakitokolo Seminar
I was up late last night preparing for my first TMP seminar teaching today at Nakitokolo. It’s a delightful place - out in the country, not crowded, more relaxed, greener, smells clean, chickens running around, trees everywhere, and quite a complex of buildings around the church grounds. We did our seminar in a school classroom. I got to teach an hour on stewardship (Based on the parable of the stewards in Matt 25) and an hour on the payback contract. I emphasized the latter because so many people could not tell us in the interviews what the terms of their payback were. I think I did well - at least there were very few questions. This group had a much more difficult time with the accounting sheets, though.
You know, it’s interesting how God has created a world in which a man can work and easily see a return multiple times what he needs to live on so that he can give to the poor and support his family (as long as his government and his employer don’t take advantage of him). It didn’t have to be that way; God could have arranged that 12 hours per day of work would only provide means for one person. It is interesting to note how many exhortations in the OT and NT there are to work and share with others. The system of generosity in the OT is huge, and often the NT has purpose statements which say that we should work in order to share with those in need (such as Eph. 4:28).
On to the meeting with the Nakitokolo local TMP committee in the afternoon. Present were Pastor James Yiga, Sam Bongole (Treasurer), Elder Timothy, and Deacon Henry Ssonko. Half the businesses failed. Seminars last year and this year should help. This is a more rural area with more farmers., and the drought of the past year or so has been a problem. This rainy season they got rain, and they have also learned to do some farming in the swampy areas. The committee asked forgiveness for poor management which resulted in defaults. One thing they picked up from last year’s seminar was that they could not get a second loan until they paid off the first loan – a policy that some of the other churches did not uphold. They begged us to give them a chance to issue second loans to those who had defaulted.
On the way home, 24 people piled into the 14-seater Toyota van for a ride! We dropped people off by ones and twos, even dropping Wyatt off for an evening with his “adopted” son, Joseph. Beverly and Paula lobbied our driver, Patrick, to stop for pizza and ice cream, so he took us to a western-style restaurant downtown. That pizza had the most flavorful bacon on it that I’ve ever tasted. When we got back into the van, I wanted to be quiet and rest, but Beverly wanted to talk more strategy for the TMP, recommending that we give our training to the officers of all the local committees together for an entire week rather than doing so many short seminars all over the place. I tend to concur. It takes more than three hours to offer good training, anyway. We also discussed improvements to the accounting training spreadsheet, including making the labels readable to those who could read Lugandan and not English and making icons for people who can not read at all.
Continued in Part II - click on Diary2 at the top of this page to continue.
