Most of the day Saturday focused on teaching spiritual warfare to the fifteen or so Hope Alive Country staff at the country office. I don’t have to try to get them to believe in the reality of the demonic. Most have had personal experience with it. Most have been taught that you have to go to a gifted pastor to deal with the demon, so my approach to get the person who has been attacked to do their own spiritual work – usually with help from your friends – is very different.

This picture of the group is “African style” with everyone as stiff and serious as possible. They laughed at the “required” pose so hard we almost never got the picture taken. “American style” (below) felt much better for this fun loving group.

There are so many fascinating stories here. William, in the sport jacket at the back of the left picture, is a Hope Alive! Africa graduate who is now moving into a mentor role. He is getting 10 students assigned to him so he can mentor the student and also whatever family the student lives with. Where death is so common, it is some times a biological parent, but often an aunt or even an older sibling. Keeping students in family arrangement  is crucial to success in life in Africa. He will do Bible study, teach life skills, help with homework in order to help the student learn spiritual and earthly life.

Sunday was Lugogo Baptist Church (http://www.lugogobaptist.org/).  We already at the building both Tuesday and Wednesday for HA! sessions, so there were many familiar faces. But I had not met Abby yet. Neither did I get to hold her. She had a very good place with Catharine. The worship was African which means whole person worship which feels a bit weird to this American fellow, but one does get into it. A little girl in front of us was really going until I turned the camera on (of course). You can see her here.

Later a fellow from Congo did a song – full of energetic praise. The congregation joined in. About half way through a group formed spontaneously (I was told – and it’s typical) and danced to the front to express their praise. You can see them here. Sherry thinks this would be good for Grace, my church back in Gresham.

Friday I noticed that I had a sore spot on my right leg above the ankle but didn’t pay much attention. Just a bump. It didn’t improve on Saturday. It was a little hard to sleep since it was painful if I laid on it. I showed it to Sherry and Catharine Sunday morning. Both were concerned. Sherry thought it looked like the cellulitis I had four hers ago, but that spread rapidly and caused both fever and great pain, which were not present. Catharine thought it looked like a bite, which made sense to  me. She recommended using a cortisone crème which had worked for her. It made the red much deeper and felt good but did not change the pain or the knot.

Catharine knows a physician who is part the World Venture team. He and his wife had arrived on the Saturday midnight flight. I was planning to chat with him Monday – don’t want to cause problems – but both ladies wanted to advance the agenda. Catharine called his wife, knowing she would be going to Dorothy’s shower. Jay was still sleeping but called back later. Catharine sent him a photo and he asked lots of questions before arriving at the cellulitis diagnosis and prescribing an antibiotic. We drove to the pharmacy and  bought them over the counter (how different from USA!). I followed doctor’s orders and  started taking them immediately.

As we pulled out of Hotel Zebra I was struck by the fellow closest to us in the picture. As you look closely you’ll see the local way of dealing with paraplegia: No wheel chairs or motorized scooters, but this hand cycle. In this case he has help from his children as he heads up the hill. The other traffic is quite common. The motorcycles are “Boda Boda,” the most common form of public transportation. There are walkers on the side of the road everywhere. This woman with a large bag of something was in a rural area, with no houses anywhere in sight. Just before I snapped the picture, she raised her arms so that her forearms were relieving the burden on her head and neck. I asked Bosco how far she might be walking with this heavy load: “15 or 20 kilometers,” he said. My heart went out to her and many others with such loads. If is a blessing to have a bicycle to be your cart especially if you are transporting water containers.

We had to stop at the Equator, of course. If nothing else they have public toilets, a rare thing here. I was more interested  in the local people than in shopping so I wandered down the road a bit to find Rachel and her Mom playing and hoping to make a sale. My reaction was to stay on the other side of the road and not interfere. She saw my camera and invited me to take pictures. So I came over and quickly made a new friend. She invited me to look at her wares but I had no money with me. “Looking is free,” she laughed. I stayed to play with Rachel. If you look, their shop is a shipping container. As we left, I playfully asked Rachel if she wanted to go with me. She took my hand and was ready to get in the car!

Bosco stopped at one of the many small stands along the way to pick up some tomatoes. I stepped out to do a picture and also made a new friend.

As we entered Kampala, Catharine stopped at the Post Office to check mail. The clerk was her friend (not surprisingly she has many friends in this very relational culture) so they chatted happily. Notice the thing here you would never see in a post office in the USA?

We arrived back mid afternoon with a couple of hours free, so I accepted Darrie Turner’s offer to talk about things Ugandan, especially traditional religions and spiritual warfare. I really appreciated his kind offer especially since he and Debbie got caught in traffic that delayed them nearly an hour. Their stories and experience of people who have to keep the ancestral spirits and local demons happy made me want to preach the gospel of freedom in Christ to everyone. If you do not feed the spirits by spilling some of your food or drink on the ground or do sacrifices of chickens before building or planting, you will be in big trouble. Stories are common of children sacrificed and buried in the foundations of larger buildings. They live in fear of enemies going to a witch doctor to put a curse on you and ruining your life. Over 85% of Ugandans are Christian though many are nominal. They are very syncretistic combining Christian practices with African traditions. A 2010 Pew study showed that about 27% of Ugandans believe that sacrifices to ancestors or spirits can protect them from harm. One common saying is “you can’t have too many gods here.” The Gospel must be preached and lived here!

The evening ended with Mutungo Outdoor Theater. Catharine invites friends to gather to enjoy a movie on her lawn with popcorn and snacks, of course. This time Frozen was the feature. It was followed by a supper of butternut squash soup with lots of stores and laughter.

The highlight of the day in many ways was the three home visits. We met Rose, the site supervisor, (going up to the door in the picture) and two of the mentors there and went to the three homes. As you can see, the homes are very humble. There is just one small room, a curtain for a door. No indoor plumbing or cooking place with an open trench to carry the water away.

The first home was Godfrey. He is a pastor in a small church caring for his son, Caleb, and Ivan, a foster child, both Senior 4 which is the the equivalent of our high school. That is when everyone takes their exams. everything depends on your score and you only get one chance. If you do very well, there are scholarships to university and the possibility of a life style with such things as indoor plumbing if you graduate. If you pass, you can go to university, but you have to find your own funding. If you do not pass, then you are pretty much consigned to a life of poverty.

Godfrey kept expressing his gratitude for our visit. When he heard that his home was the first we ever visited, his gratitude exploded! From my American perspective, I have done nothing for him other than my contributions to Hope Alive! Africa (yes, you can do that too!). From his perspective I had honored him immensely.

I expressed blessing to him for being a father faithful to his son as well as other men’s sons. I blessed him for working hard as a porter in a factory job that seems like virtual slave labor to me – he was so grateful to have a job (paying perhaps $30 per month) so he could buy some food, charcoal to cook food, drinking water, and pay his rent (perhaps $12 per month). He left his wife in the village with another child so he could get an education for Caleb. Sherry and I told him of our family and he rejoiced with  us. He kept laughing in joy as we talked.

We met Sarah and her daughter, Shamim in the second home. She was a bit embarrassed she had only one “chair” for for Sherry to sit on. I joined the others on the reed mat on the floor. After a bit, her son, Sharif, arrived. As we told stories Rose asked if Sarah was ready to be saved. I was a bit taken aback by the question, but folk here are quite open to say they are not saved when talking with believers. Catharine joined Rose is speaking the gospel to Sarah, but she was not ready yet. I asked if she went to church somewhere and she said she was Catholic. We were a bit surprised since her children have Muslim names. That was from her husband who was gone. When we asked if she worked, she was a bit shamed to say she did not. She just does odd jobs any where she can to get money for rent and food. We prayed for her and departed. I asked if I could do a picture so I could pray for the family and found that she felt very honored that I wanted that.

As we approached Annette’s home, an actual house which she managed to acquire through  hard work and some gifts from others, I saw four grave stones. They were her husband and three of his brothers, all dying of AIDS, the epidemic disease here. Annette had been a widow since 2002 and was HIV positive herself. She brought out two chairs and insisted that I join Sherry there while the others sat on mats on the grass. From the right are Peter, her cousin, Ben, the HA! mentor, Norman and Collins, her sons, Annette, Catharine, and  Rose, the site supervisor.

Annette asked if we would like a soda. I was clueless as to what to say. Knowing her poverty, I was inclined to decline. Suspecting that her generosity was real, and taking some facial clues from Catharine and Rose, I accepted. Of course I wanted to whip out my wallet and pay but that would only despise her hospitality. She was very pleased to give us something. I still marvel how I measure everything in economic terms even though I cognitively know honor-shame, and hospitality. Then we had do figure out which soda to get. No way I was choosing Coke since that would be more expensive. They enjoyed explaining Ugandan sodas and we decided to have Fruitee.

Collins is a top student and also a gifted football player at position 8 (striker in soccer). I said the Portland Timbers needed him. It turns out some from their area are top professionals in Europe, UK, and America. There is real possibility that he could join them. But school is his first priority. Norman is the brilliant student, loving science especially. Annette glowed as we pulled the stories out of her sons. As in the other homes, we asked for prayer requests. I was struck that Annette asked for a very real gift: Life.

The family joined us as we walked to the car. I looked behind me to see this scene. I am very glad she a woman in the most dire straits is saved, marveling that she smiles and blesses everyone. I want to have her attitude of joy, generosity and hospitality in my position of richness and privilege.

We checked into the Hotel Zebra, getting excellent help as you can see.  The video is here. The entrance to the hotel  was not so impressive, but the facility was very nice. Only problem is that there was no electricity in the town so everything was dark. The greeter assured us that the generator would go on soon and be on all night. I will admit I was skeptical, but his word was good. After we got checked in we went to visit some of the homes of the students. I will put that in a different post since it was so moving.

Thursday’s supper and Friday’s breakfast were on the veranda. I find that I am a huge fan on Katogo, a savory mix of . . . well I am not sure what. I’ll have to find out. [Update: it has many variations but always includes matooke, a kind of green banana, and a sauce often with inexpensive meat – it was a poor man’s food which has become very popular]

I was deeply touched by the attitude of the mentors, especially Patrick. He was a student from extreme poverty who enrolled in the Hope Alive! Africa program, graduated last year and is now serving as an intern. I have rarely seen some one so bright and also so committed to humble service. His love for Jesus came out strongly as he took a turn leading in the singing and then prayed. Wish I could have gotten more of his story – but he was too busy serving.

We left early for Masaka which is about 90 miles southwest of Kampala. The town was destroyed in the 1979 war with Tanzania and again in the Ugandan civil war in the early eighties. You would never know it today. It is beautiful, quiet and peaceful. It has a couple of hundred thousand people in the district and perhaps 75,000 people in the town.

We crossed the equator as we neared Masaka. It was our first time to cross into the southern hemisphere (although technically that was true in Nairobi on our way here, we were far too busy getting to our next flight to notice). We took the obligatory picture but did not pay for the hoax to see water go down a drain clockwise a few meters north, counter clockwise a few meters south and straight right on the equator. We did buy some things from the aidchild.org market and enjoyed African tea to refresh us for the remaining drive.

Bosco, our driver for the trip, is a most interesting fellow. He was telling me of some of the tensions with his wife’s Muslim family. They don’t like him since he has no religion. Although he is Christian, he is nothing since he is not Muslim. We talked further about religious relations in Uganda. He said there is no problem here – yet. There are Muslims with a plan to make Uganda an Islamic country though 70% of the population is Christian at least in name. I sure hope not in light of Sudan’s official decision to hang a pregnant woman who married a Christian and converted in the process (story here). She was shown great charity in that she was not executed immediately but given until Thursday to return to Islam.

I taught spiritual warfare to the staff and mentors of Hope Alive Africa (www.hopealiveafrica.org) gathered in their meeting room at Masaka Baptist Church. They were eager students with many questions. We started with a very fun time of singing. You can hear two songs here. See if you can get the message of the second song which starts about 2:30 into the recording.

One challenge for my teaching is that the electricity in Masaka has been out for three weeks or so reportedly because of a transformer failure. Doing things directly from Bible, which I much prefer, is impossible with a variety of translations. Fortunately the nearby Compassion office has solar power, a generous spirit, and long extension chords so we were able to work a shared text projected onto the wall.

Another challenge is that they had a very difficult case with a demonized woman and that dominated their thinking. They were very appreciative for the more widely useful scriptural teaching but things go exciting when it was time to talk about that case. Unfortunately there are not simple answers to difficult cases so we did more sharing of ideas and experiences, which I enjoyed immensely. I was able to bring into questions some common and dangerous practices like interviewing the demon.

We started about an hour later than announced. Hardly unexpected. So after a couple of hours of teaching, they said lunch was ready so I adjourned the session at 1:00. It was 2:00 when the lunch actually arrived from the local restaurant. The Ugandan fare was delicious and the portions HUGE. Despite my pleas for relief my plate was heaping.

[time to head back to Kampala – to be continued]

11:00 May 11 means departure time, so we loaded our suitcases and carryon bags into Jerry Fast’s van and began the long trek. The 10 hour  Portland to Amsterdam leg. We love the A330 with two up seating so Sherry gets her aisle and I get my window to see the barrenness of the far north of Canada, Hudson’s Bay, Greenland and the arrival in Amsterdam, and we can still snuggle.

Amsterdam was a much quicker turn around than we expected with a full scan check in to the travel lounge but then if you look REALLY closely you might notice that the nose tire of our 747 is worn and needs to be replaced. Didn’t see it? Well no one else did at the time. But it delayed our departure by 90 minutes making our turn around  in Nairobi very iffy, which set off my travel paranoia, of course. Sherry is much better at trusting God than I, as you can see.

The flight over the Sahara was fascinating. I tried to take pictures, but alas none really showed the barren beauty. The lake behind the Aswan dam was amazing with irrigation coming out. Sherry and I both slept a bit and enjoyed full meals and snacks. Remember the days? You can see the fellow across the aisle who used his blanket to make a tent. He and the woman between us were athletes from one of the Gulf States going to Kenya to train track and field athletes there. Sadly, she was so soft spoken I could hardly hear her over the roar of the jet engines.

We did make the flight to Entebbe, but it was a great rush. Sherry had requested wheel chair assistance and the fellow earned his keep. We even went through diplomat queues only to be stopped by a locked door to the tarmac. A nice lady finally arrived and we rushed to the plane and completed our journey.

I had hoped to see Entebbe, but the midnight arrival made that impossible. The assistant made our journey through passport control very easy indeed and soon we were greeted by Catharine Coon with warm welcome and our drive to her home. Our beds in her “servant quarters” were most welcome.

Tuesday morning was a chance to join the Hope Alive Africa (www.hopealiveafrica.org) Break Away session. It is school holiday here so they have a time for the students to gather, sing and do creative lessons, a feature notably lacking in the rote memory oriented schools. After a time of singing praise to Jesus, the group was eager to learn and quickly got into Catharine’s “Math and Art” activity. Every classroom was filled, so Jesse, a short termer from Salem (can anyone say “small world”?) took her primary reading class outside for their lesson. The students are from poverty stricken homes and reading a real children’s book is an unknown pleasure.

I asked several for their stories. Ambrose (pictured) and his brother, Dennis, were two of them. Both were orphans who had lost their hope when Hope Alive found them. They both worked really hard in school. Dennis is now in program to study electrical engineering. Ambrose just finished his secondary school and the exams. He passed them
but is not sure his score will qualify him for a government scholarship. There is not as much money available now. I listened to his faith in Jesus, his deep hope to serve, and his wondering what he will do if he does not get a scholarship. Tuition is far out of his ability. . Results will not be announced until after we are gone. So he prays and I join him. Will you?

We stopped by the super market to pick up a few things before heading home. Who would expect a big display of chicken gizzards? And “monkey gland sauce??” Is it real or just a name? I decided not to try it.