Flying home

So I made it from Uganda to Ethiopia to Sudan and I'm now sitting in Egypt.  Everything has been uneventful thus far.  I'm hoping to keep it that way.  It's now 4:30am my time and I have about 3 hours until my next flight to France... I'm not feeling tired, hungry, thirsty or anything.

However, I should be feeling all of the above.

Also, I'm not quite sure what's happening at the moment.  I'm transferring to a different airline so I had to get my bags but not get a visa for Egypt.  That didn't seem to go over real well but at least there were about 4 others doing the same.  Anyhow, I have my luggage and they have us in some kind of holding room and they took our passports and spoke a lot of Arabic.

Haha I'm not so sure what that means but I think it'll all be good.

So the girls at the Centre all woke up to say goodbye at 4:30 this morning thanks to Colline who went to each hut and banged on the door!  I'm going to miss them a ton.

Then made it safely to Kampala.  My cook Concy came with me on the bus.  She doesn't travel much so she wanted to pray before going.  It started like this - "God, please don't let me vomit like last time I was on a bus."  Haha anyway we made it vomit free the whole way.

Then got pick pocketed.  I stepped off the bus, stuck my phone in the side pocket of my backpack and took a few steps.  A guy pushed against me and lo and behold he stole my phone out of my bag and sped away.  I swiftly yelled to him that he was an idiot and to give me back my phone.  He did.  I think that's what Jesus teaches you to do in this type of situation?

Then caught up with Phil, Suzan and Silver in K'la and hung out with them all day.  Right now we're all hanging out at Suzan's house eating the wonderful cake that Concy made for me to take back to America (sorry mom and dad, I don't think it would have made it in one piece).  Tomorrow I have some errands to run, chilling to do and a plane to catch in the evening.  Then starts my trek home.

Good byes

I hate goodbyes.  I've never been very good at them, I get all kinds of nostalgia about the past, how the kids will change, how things won't be the same next time I come etc.  The group of girls that has been living at the Centre while I have been here has been amazing, each in their own way.  Whereas last time only a few who spoke English well told me their whole stories, this time many of them wanted to talk, either through a translator or broken English.

So today I spent the day doing all my last minute bonding time with the children and girls.  I bought soda for them for dinner which they ended up quarreling about because 3 kids didn't get one.  It left me feeling crappy that it caused a problem instead of just being fun.  But they quickly made up for that when they started with the goodbyes and thank yous.  I swear if I was told I am beautiful and that I'm loved half as much in the State's as I was today I'd be a different person!

After about an hour of that they decided to escort me to my house.  So 25 of the women and I walked across the compound.  Scratch that.  25 women carried me like a rock star in a crowd to my house.  It was hilarious, I've never laughed so hard.  After some more time they began to go back to their beds but some lingered around to have private conversations about the future etc.

It was a good day. One of the girls said she wants just a little piece of my heart in hers.  I realized that so much of my heart already is in Kitgum.  I love feeling so at home here.  I'm going to miss it so much.


Last minute prayer requests:
Electricity!  My phone battery is almost dead, my computer is almost dead (I have an internet modem) and the only ATM in Kitgum that accepts my ATM card wasn't functional today.  Thus, I am now unsure how I am going to pay for my bus ticket to Kampala at 5:30 tomorrow morning.

I'm lying under my mosquito net, listening to dogs barking, a cow mooing and Shania Twain playing far off in the distance.  I am in serious denial about leaving here in less than 36 hours.  Fortunately, I do believe that I will be coming back here, and soon I hope.  When I tell people I'm in university they're either shocked that I'm old enough or shocked that I haven't finished yet.  I'm not sure why I can never be my age, but I don't mind.

I spent today figuring out all kinds of last minute things in preparation for my being absent.  The scholarships should be able to run smoothly from here on out, at least I'm praying for that outcome.  It has also been hectic trying to see everybody, and I really enjoy sitting with people, talking, or just being silent together but being in a rush is not conducive to such long conversations.  However, I'm blessed that I have had plenty of time for this in the past weeks.

Today the kids all got new shoes and bounced around the compound all day with them.

Making Peace

Sorry about the frustration of my last post, it was a knee-jerk reaction from being protective of the girls here.

The fact is this could have been anyone unfamiliar with the situation asking such questions in a moment of excitement or anxiety from hearing such extreme stories.  I know she was just doing her job trying to hear from different categories of women that are here at the Centre and she may not have known how well they understand English.  She made a mistake and caught me on a day that I was feeling incredibly protective since I am soon leaving here and I want them to be in the best possible condition when they return to their own communities in two weeks.

That being said, I'd love to hear all the things that I've messed up by saying in the past!  I'm sure I would be horrified!

Frustration

So there's an American woman who came to visit today from an NGO.  Working with an NGO you would expect them to be extremely sensitive to the cases that we're working with here.  Instead she asked things like "when you were trained by the LRA, did you ever fight in a battle?"  Here that question would be comparable to asking a soldier you don't know if he killed people during the war. Or maybe even worse because the people the child soldiers were forced to kill here were from their own communities.  That's not a question for the general public to know.

I was embarrassed after that one but it got worse when she requested to have one more testimony "from the one girl with HIV/AIDS"  She asked plenty loud enough for everyone, including the only girl here who has AIDS to hear clearly.  Everybody looked at her at which point she had to leave the room because she was crying from being labeled as "that one girl with AIDS."  It took her 5 weeks to tell  me her story, she wasn't about to do it for completely strangers.

If you're ever in a situation like this, in the States or elsewhere, talk with people beforehand and find out what's appropriate in the culture before humiliating whoever you are talking with.

Today was interesting.  The man who donated the funds for the New Life Centre came to visit from the States.  He's an older man  but he is active and loves the Lord. Two other Americans came with him for their first time.  It was fun to see their reactions to the activities here - they laughed and cried.

The girls did a great job with entertainment and such.  We had testimonies, dancing, singing, devotions, relay races and netball.  Good times.

One of the girls, Brenda, told her story today.  Her father is a drunkard and has beaten her for years.  Growing up she had to work for relatives in order to pay her PTA fees for school (about $5 a term for primary).  And when she'd enroll her father would beat her and tell her she was wasting her time because she'd never succeed, but she went anyway.  The father even held her at gunpoint at one point in his anger.

The first week she was here she told me that she'd love to go back to school.  She graduated Primary and wants to pursue secondary.  Brenda asked again today (she doesn't know that she's already on the list).  I asked her what her father would say about her continuing her education.  She responded very matter-of-factly "he'll beat me."  The desire this girl has for an education is incredible.  While we're hoping her sister will allow her to move in with her so she can avoid the abuse of the father, it's telling that she would be willing to be beaten so she can go to school.




I'm beginning to get sad because people are starting to talk about how I'm leaving on Sunday.  I could stay here longer. I love the community so much, I feel so at home here.