Monday 7/23

Monday-
Levi’s fever broke! And he was feeling better and came down for breakfast, but threw up before because he took his malaria pill and some pepto pills with no food. So he got to rest some more for the morning, but the group that stayed back got to join up at lunch, so it all worked out.

Today we got a taxi out to the widows house and they were just finishing leveling the foundation trenches, and starting to make cement, so we were filling the wheelbarrows with the aggregate that we pounded on Saturday, to mix with the cement and sand and water. Once they got the trench level, we started filling it with one brick’s depth of cement. As we were waiting for that to set up, some of us went to get more water, this time at the pump well, which was closer, but harder to get the water out of. Elena and I carried it back on our heads. We’re totally getting it. When we came back, everyone was in a big line to pass bricks from the pile and distribute them around the perimiter. Simon estimated that we’d need 3000 bricks, and the load we had today was 1000, and we used less than half on the foundation. Once the cement had set enough, (really it should set for 2-3 days, especially since it rained in the middle of the process, and it will rain more, but in 3 days we won’t be here anymore) simon worked a crazy rig to square the corner stones (crazy theological implications there) and once those were in place, they started laying the brick. They tought Taylor and Matt how, but really there were only 3 or 4 trowels so the rest of us didn’t have a whole lot of “work” to do. I was sitting under the edge of a hut after taking Michele and her sons to go get water (Michele and Casey carried it on their heads!) and chatting with Levi and Foster and Matt, and somehow there grew to be a great crowd of kids around us. No kidding, there were like 50 all pressed in and staring. And I was just singing the Tee-Pee Villiage song to Levi, because we were comparing kid camp songs, and the kids repeated the “wa-oonga” part. So all of the sudden I was teaching them the wa-oonga part. And 50 little Ugandan kids were pressing in and singing with me. Then I didn’t know what to do next, so steve suggested from the back that we sing B-I-N-G-O, so we sang that. And then there were a couple of other camp songs. And Matt and Levi got called away to work, so it was just me and Foster. Foster is a trooper. Seriously. We just kept making things up. And then it was time to go, and while we were singing, they were able to lay 4 courses of brick, and after the majority of us left, taylor and matt stayed to fill in the foundation trenches. It was pretty amazing. Tomorrow, only 6 go back to work on the widows house, which is a little sad, but also, more effective since most of us stand around anyway, and there might be something more useful for us to do here.

So when we got back, I came up and showered right way, and feeling clean was amazing. I took my blanket and went and laid on the grass outside to read. And then I was struck with how safe I feel here in Pallisa. Really, this isn’t the norm. Yet we really can go wherever we want here without too much concern. The hotel is especially safe. Although the children are getting bold- because we have played with them on the back lawn, some of them know we are here and have come into the compound, and even into the hotel, which upsets the hotel staff. So we should figure out a way to deal with that.

Then there was dinner, and after dinner some team community time and worship. It was really cool. Riley and Steve lead the singing part, and then there was some great time in prayer, and we got to talk with our prayer buddies about where we are. Some things I am processing are all of the paradoxes all around. Levi and I were talking earlier about how rich the faith and community and love of the Christians here is, but they don’t have running water. It’s sort of the opposite of America- we have, so often, a shallow spirituality and faith and love, but we have the necessary things to sustain ourselves. And Michele and I were talking about how we want to bring grace and walk along side of the Christians here, but it’s almost like they want us to save them. How do we bring grace without becoming a savior? Something to wrestle with. And the faith of the people here strikes me as very real, and very emotional. My faith is very real, but I don’t know if you would know it by looking at me, because it’s not very emotional. The depth is in the intellect- I interact with God most in hymns and reading and thinking things through. I see what they have, and want it, but it feels awkward on me- like ill fitting clothes.

That’s another thing Michele and talked about. I was struck today at the widow’s house that Africans just don’t seem to be made for clothes. Especially western clothes, which they wear some semblance of, for the most part. It makes no sense. Who told them that they were poor, I wonder? Because in their little communities they have food and shelter and contentedness, and yet someone came in and convinced them that they need clothes and things and strip malls (or the palissa version of- shops in a row) and the trappings of the west, and somehow they now believe that this is what they want. They want to create a little britian, a little America, that this is somehow ideal. That we, somehow, are ideal. But really, we’re not the answer. You can be greedy with a lot or with a little. Having a lot doesn’t solve it, and having nothing doesn’t solve it.

Riley raised the question tonight that we came here to serve, but they seem to be serving us more than us. Michele mentioned that they are our hosts, and they want to take care of us, and I mentioned that they want to host us with dignity, and Steve said maybe the way we serve them is by accepting their hospitality gratefully.