Over a Week

Well there goes my new year's resolution :) It's been over a week, and you still aren't going to get a post.... i've been sick the past 2 days, and just can't get myself to write anything that actually makes sense. So hopefully i'll be better soon, and then i'll be back.

Caption Please

I feel like this picture is just screaming for a caption... please leave one in the comments section.

Jesse's is "Guys, Where Are We?" (can you tell we've been re-watching LOST?)

Bible Study

I’m attending this women’s bible study once a week. Overall it’s been really good. there are about 12 of us in the group and we come from 5 different countries. We also range in age from 23 to 60. I love the diversity. It is so great to hear so many different perspectives. One of the ladies is a fairly new christian. I love her. She asks really, really good questions. and things you would think as a more mature christian would be able to answer. And yet, i love seeing how we all struggle to answer her questions. Sometime i think we get very comfortable w/ “our” religion. We forget to keep looking and searching for what this is really all about.

This week we are going to be talking about giving. I’m interested to see how the discussion turns out. Money has been brought up in the past, usually under the question should we be giving it all away? And then right away there are strong comments that “no of course we are not supposed to give it all away” “it’s all about our heart” and although these comments could be true, I often find them not genuine. Often just said so that we don’t have to confront the fact that maybe this is what God is calling us to do. Do we really ask these questions, do we really ask God is this what he wants us to do? I know I don’t ever seem to answer these questions. They float around in my mind, and then I just go on with my daily life. But I really don’t want to miss it. I don’t want to miss what God wants for my life.

So i'll let you all know how Monday turns out, and we'll talk more :)

Another First

Yep, Levi's mullet is officially gone. I miss the curls. :) & no judging on the pacifier.

This sign was posted on the door of one of our favorite restaurants here.



It's so nice of them to think of the criminals.

Save The Date

Yep, it's getting to be that time again. IJM's Global Prayer Gathering. It's the weekend of April 9th. & it should not be missed. If you've gone in the past you know what an amazing weekend this is. If you've never gone, you should! I'm telling you all about this now, b/c if you sign up before Feb. 5th the cost is only $119. After that it goes up to $139.

And another bonus.... WE WILL BE THERE! Yep we are planning on all flying back to the states the end of March. We are so excited to come back for a visit! Hope to see you all there! : )

Here's a little more info that I took from an email....

IJM President and CEO Gary Haugen and Sharon Cohn Wu, IJM Senior Vice President of Justice Operations, will lead our time together along with Andy Crouch, Christianity Today International Senior Editor, and IJM field office directors and investigators.

We are also delighted to welcome back Sara Groves and Lamont Hiebert and Ten Shekel Shirt to lead our musical worship.

We hope you will join us to celebrate God’s presence and pray for his continued power in this work of justice.

For additional information about the Global Prayer Gathering including information on the schedule, accommodations and travel, visit www.IJM.org/gpg.

Safari

Two weeks ago I told you about what is one of the hardest things about living in Uganda is, this week I'm going to tell you about one of the best things. SAFARI. I love going on safari. Just ask Jesse I could go all day long for a week, and still not be bored. Unfortunately I’m the only one in my family who feels this strongly about it. (although i think isaac is going to be more like me on this one.) Don’t get me wrong here, Jesse & Rachel like going, just not quite as much as I do.

I’m one of those people who want to be up at 6 in the morning ready for the first sight of day to go out and look and not get back until you really can’t see anything w/ our poor little headlights. I’m not sure what exactly I love most about it, but there is something about being out there and just searching for animals that really could be a few feet from your car, and you not even realize it. When you do find them, it’s just amazing.

I’ll let the pictures do the rest of the talking....










*Hopefully that has made you all want to come over and visit! I offer great tour guide rates! : )

Haiti

I had another post written, but I just can't seem to bring myself to post some light & fluffy post when I read about what's all going on in Haiti. It's weird not having t.v. here and not being able to get up to the minute news and to see what's going on. I can read, but even when i try to see pictures it takes about an hour to upload one photo on any major news website. (yes, we have very slow Internet) But even without all the details, my heart breaks for what is going on. & yet, i feel so far away. What can i do?! & then I remember that I have a BIG GOD. a God who can do amazing things & whose heart is breaking even more than mine. I know there are people on the ground in Haiti trying to be God's hands and feet, and so I must pray. I must pray for these people who can be there and can touch the hurting and heal the sick. I must pray that God will somehow use this for His glory. I've been following this blog to get some information on what's going on, I encourage you to check it out, and pray along side me for what our brothers and sisters are doing.

Getting Sick

The worst part of living in Uganda, is getting sick. The first 2 months we were here we constantly weren’t feeling right. Of course our bodies had to adjust to all the new germs, and such. But for me the worst part about it is when my kids are sick I worry constantly about what weird thing they could have: malaria, yellow fever, typhoid, etc.

There is a doctor’s office here that everyone recommended us go to, it’s called “The Surgery”. I’m still not sure why they call it that, since i don’t think there are any surgeries actually going on but none the less it’s a doctor’s office. It looks similar to an American doctors office....just a lot dirtier/older. The first time I took Rachel, the doctor wanted to check her temperature and swung out an old school thermometer that you have to put under your tongue. I know I know the horror! Rachel was scared to death of it. She had no idea what he was about to have her do w/ that thing. (she’s thinking throat culture) Needless to say he ended up having to take her temperature under her armpit.


The head doctor at the surgery is an older gentleman from Britain. He is very smart, but has no bedside manner. There was one pediatrician who was working at the office, but she has since left to go back to India. I have not given my kids any immunizations since we’ve been here. Levi will just be a little behind, but I think I’m just going to wait till we come back on furlough. A lot of people have their kids vaccinated here, but I’m just not comfortable with it yet.

So back to the main reason of this post... I hate it when my kids are sick. & low and behold we’ve all been sick this past week. Levi has had it the worst, which I hate, b/c I worry about him getting too dehydrated and the such. We took him in and were told it’s just a bacteria infection. (thankfully no malaria - since we had been out of Kampala recently) I just really worry about if something more major happens what will we do? The healthcare system is not good here, i’ve heard horror stories of hospitals here, so it just makes me nervous. I know that worrying does no good, and i honestly don’t worry about it when we are all fine, but as soon as someone comes down with something, my mind becomes preoccupied with the what ifs. How do you overcome this?

New Years Resolutions

HAPPY NEW YEAR!
I have a confession to make. I have never ever made New Years resolutions. (I know huge confession) Not only that but I have always cringed when I was supposed to write out goals. I’ve always seen them as pointless. For one it seems like I would always hear people make them, but never keep them or they would be too broad to really be able to tell if you achieved them or not (ie. be a better person). But the main reason that i don’t like making them, is that I don’t know what’s going to happen, I have no idea what the next year has in store. I like to go with the flow, and just see what things happen, and then deal with them as they come. To me putting these goals out there seemed to be confining in some way. Or maybe it’s b/c i don’t like to fail (who does), and so by not making them, I never set myself up to fail. But for whatever reason I don’t make them. That is until this year.

This year has been a big change for our family. & i’ve been confronted by who I am & what I'm doing. Honestly, the transition here has been quite easy, but I think that's what has bothered me. I was expecting to come to Uganda, and be rocked to the core. I was expecting to be able to go out and do all these “good” things for the people here. I was expecting for my life to change. Maybe it’s b/c I’ve been overseas before, and so the I’m not having as much of a culture shock as you do when you are see the poverty for the first time. But i have found myself, doing the exact same things I was doing back in the states. I am a mother to 3 kids 6 and under. So I know that right now my life is sort of spelt out for me. I love staying home with my kids, and really am grateful that I have this time with them. But sometimes I think i get stuck in a rut, and my days pass, and then I think back about what i’ve done... and it makes me sad. I’m not the most disciplined person, and so it’s really easy for me to just do what i need to to get by. But i feel that a lot of life is passing me by.

So this year I’m going to try to make some new years resolutions. I’m not ready to announce all of what they are to everyone (still worried about failing here) but one of them is to do a blog post once a week. I want to work on really thinking about the stuff that has been going on in my head, and maybe sitting down and writing them out will help me. This is a huge thing for me though, b/c I hate to write. I feel like I don’t communicate as well through my writing as I do when i can sit one on one with someone. But I'm going to try it out. Also i don’t know who actually even reads this blog any more, but I know our families enjoy seeing pictures of the kids once in a while, so I’m going to try to do better. :) So here it goes my first New Years Resolution. We’ll see if I still have it by next week.

The Bribe

As we pulled onto the road to leave the Mambo Point Pizzeria with some of our friends piled in the back of the Landcruiser, a police truck with two officers in the cab and six officers in the bed pulled in front of Amy with its high beams on. This, of course, made us a bit nervous, as we knew the police like to shake foreigners down for bribes and we were committing multiple easily identifiable traffic violations, including but not necessarily limited to: (i) too many people (eight) in the car; (ii) no seatbelts on about half the passengers; (iii) one child (Rachel) seated in the front seat; and (iv) that child, riding on a lap instead of in a seat. Yes, we’re bad parents… we know. Try to focus on the story.

One traffic law we didn’t think we had violated was going the wrong way on a one way street. One reason we thought we were compliant in this regard was the complete lack of any markings on the street to suggest that it was a one way. Another was the traffic moving steadily along in both directions. Nonetheless, when the officer came to the window, his infraction of choice for the evening was “wrong way on a one way street.”

Amy immediately went into her dumb foreigner routine, “Oh, I’m so sorry officer;” “ I’m new here and didn’t realize;” “Is there a sign?” “Thank you for explaining this to me;” “Oh, I am going to be such a better driver just having spoken with you this evening;” etc… She is actually quite good at it. The officer seemed to buy it, and told her to turn around in the drive behind her and go the other way. Amy happily obliged and we drove off down the road.

Moments later, there were cherries in the rear view mirror. Amy pulled over, and the same officer came to the window.

“Why did you drive away?” he asked.

“Because you told me to,” she answered, politely.

In the back seat, Levi started wailing – and not just a little bit – big long shrill screams. The officer, trying to ignore the screaming baby, explained to Amy that he could arrest her for fleeing the scene.

“This is a country of laws, madam,” he said. “You cannot just drive away when an officer tells you to pull over.”

Now, this was annoying, because he clearly had not told her to pull over. While I steamed in the passenger seat, Amy kept her cool, and went right back to the dumb foreigner routine. The officer, clearly trying to get away from the piercing cries of Levi asked Amy and I to get out of the car. Since we had three additional adults in the car to watch the kids, we obliged and walked across the street to the police truck that was still flashing its cherries for all to see.

When we arrived at the police truck, the officer explained that “his boss” would have to decide what to do with us. His boss, it turns out, was a clearly intoxicated and half asleep officer slouched in passenger seat of the truck. The first officer then proceeded to explain the process to us.

“We are going to give you a ticket, which you can pay at headquarters. Of course, because it is Friday night, police headquarters is already closed and won’t open until Monday morning. We’ll have to impound your car until then,” he soberly explained, “or… we could forgive you.”

Ahh, the catch.

“We would prefer forgiveness,” I said, trying my best to follow Amy’s lead as a dumb foreigner and knowing full well what was coming next.

The original arresting officer said he would like to talk to me in front of the car. I accompanied him to the front of the car. He put his hand on my shoulder, and just like he was my best friend in the world, he explained to me that if I didn’t want to lose my car for the weekend and deal with the hassle of police headquarters on Monday, all I had to do was pay him 100,000 schillings (about $50).

I smiled, a little shocked that he had been so straight-forward with his request. I had heard that police officers looking for a bribe usually asked for you to buy them a soda, or get them something to eat. This guy was apparently not planning to be so subtle.

I laughed and told him I couldn’t do that, but he was persistent. The exchanges I can recall include the following:
- Me – Do you see my shirt (it was an IJM Shirt with the IJM logo and the words “Seek Justice” emblazoned on the chest)? This is my employer, and they do not allow their employees to pay bribes.
- PO – But it’s not a bribe because I’m not making you pay me. I am just asking.
- Me – Yes, and I appreciate how polite you are being about it, but it is still technically a bribe, and if I pay you I will get fired.
- PO – But why would your employer ever need to find out. You could just pay me and no one would know.
- Me – See those three people in the car with me. Those are all my employees at IJM, and if they see me pay you, they will report me and I will be fired.
- PO – Did you tip your waiter today?
- Me – Yes.
- PO – It is no different. I am not asking for a bribe. I am just asking for a tip for all of us. We have to work hard, and they don’t pay us very well.
- Me – I couldn’t agree more. You do have a hard job, and you are grossly underpaid, but there is nothing I can do about it. I still can’t pay you a bribe.
- PO – It is not a bribe, it is a tip.
- Me – No, a tip is payment I give to someone for personal service. You are asking me to pay you not to give me a ticket. That’s a bribe and I can’t pay a bribe.
- PO – If I were hungry would you give me some money for food.
- Me – If you were hungry, I would take you to dinner.
- PO – We are all very, very hungry.
- Me – It’s too late. You didn’t come asking me for food. You came asking for a bribe, and I can’t pay a bribe.
Most of these exchanges occurred over and over with a lot of laughing, back slapping and false compliments. It was a shockingly friendly and almost pleasant negotiating experience, notwithstanding the fact that we had clearly reached an impasse.

After about 10 minutes of back and forth, I decided I needed to press my only advantage. Seeing that Levi was still screaming in the car across the street, I asked to be allowed to go get him. I happily scooped up the screaming baby and handed him to my wife who held him about six inches from “the boss’s” ear. We continued to happily and politely refuse the officers’ requests for money while Levi continued to cause significant discomfort for “the boss” and his entourage.

After a few more minutes, the original officer apparently figured it was a lost cause. He lightly scolded Amy, telling her that she needed to get her baby home to feed him, as if we had the option to leave at any time. He then let us go without so much as a warning. We loaded back into the car and headed home, none the worse from our little encounter.

What You Should Be Reading

I've been following Katie's blog for a while now, even before we found out we were coming to Uganda. and I have to tell you, that reading her blog moves my heart every time. YOU should read it too. She is an amazing writer, and you will be challenged by what she has to say.

She wrote this a couple of days ago....i don't think i can put it any better.

I DO NOT BELIEVE that the God of the universe created too many children in His image and not enough love or food or care to go around. In fact I believe that He created the Body of Christ for just that, to help these little ones, the least of these. And I believe that except for a handful, the Body of Christ is failing. And its not just me who thinks this. When I'm angry, I like to research so that I can at least feel a bit justified in my rage ;) According to several differnt resources, there are an average of 147 million orphaned children in the world today (this statistic includes children who have lost only one parent as well), 11 million children starve to death each year or die from preventable, treatable illness. 8.5 million children work as child slaves, prostitutes, or in other horrific conditions (making things like that cute baby Gap dress Jane wore today...) 2.3 million children world wide are living with HIV.

That is 168.8 million needy children like Michael and Patricia. Seems like a big number, huh? It shouldn't, because there are 2.1 BILLION people on this earth who profess to be Christians. Jesus followers. Servants. Gospel live-ers. And if only 8 percent of those Christians would care for just ONE of these needy children, they would all be taken care of.


Ouch! Why are we failing so badly as Christians? Why even here in Uganda, can I get into my comfortable little life, and forget about the sufferings of others? I know that I need to step it up, do more, be His hands & feet.

We Have A House

So yes, we have been terrible at keeping you all updated to our life in Uganda. I think mainly for me, I don't love to write (i know, I know, then why do i have a blog!? i’ll let you know if i ever come up w/ an answer to that one), so it takes me forever to write a blog in the first place... & i would just post pictures but it takes hours to download a few pictures...so there is my problem, I don’t want to write & i'm too impatient to post pictures. But I will try to fight through my lack of gifts, and go ahead and catch you up with what's been going on with us.

HOUSING
I had no idea how hard it was going to be to find a place to live. We started looking the day after I got off the plane. Things here are so much more expensive then we thought they would be. Basically it costs just as much here as it does in the D.C. area. There are many suburbs that surround Kampala, so we were trying to decide where Rachel was going to go to school, and then try to see where we wanted to live while taking in consideration where IJM’s offices are. We decided to try to stay as close to the office as possible. Traffic here is terrible and we really didn’t want Jesse to have a 2 hour commute home. So once we narrowed it down to what part of town to live in, we hit the car w/ a real estate agent (actually i went around w/ about 4 of them) to see what was out there.

It was really interesting going out. It seems that no matter what kind of house it is they all cost the same. I saw really nice updated houses, & gross, dark, in great need of updating houses....but they both cost the same. I couldn’t figure it out. They would be in the same neighborhood and everything. Well anyway, early in our search I found a house that I loved! It seemed perfect. Jesse talked with the landlord, who told us he had someone else who was willing to pay X amount ($300 more a month than us) We thought he was bluffing. He wasn’t. House #1 lost.

A side note here. One of the things we were really looking for was a good yard. The weather here is perfect....every day. So we knew we would want to be out a lot. Also Isaac LOVES to run, so if we didn’t have a yard, I would feel like I was caging a large animal. The hard thing about that, is that Kampala is a city of hills. So a lot of the houses we looked at, either had no yard, or a treacherous cliff for one.

But the search went on. In the middle of June we decided on another house. It was a 3 bedroom, with beautiful gardens...Beautiful! Not a ton of running room, but was doable. Also it was only a block from the office, so it just seemed like we should do it. The problem, was again they were asking for more then we could afford. So we met w/ the landlord and negotiated. He was willing to meet us in the middle, we were thrilled. He said his lawyer would send us the contract and we could get in on July 1st. We waited 2 days and didn’t hear from the lawyer so jesse called him, and he said that he didn’t have internet the last 2 days, but he would send it tomorrow. By 4 the next day we still didn’t have it so jesse called again, and the guy said that he was having problems sending it but if jesse wanted to come get it aht he could. So jesse did. Everything looked pretty good, but being the good lawyer jesse is, a couple of words needed to be changed. we sent it back to the lawyer, who said it looked good, just needed the landlord to sign it, and then we could sign it as well. So we waited again. Everytime jesse would call the lawyer, he would have an excuse and say let me call you in 15 minutes, and then never would. Finally Jesse got ahold of the lawyer, who then tells us “sorry it’s been rented” WHAT?! I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jesse that mad. He calls the landlord directly, who said he didn’t know what the lawyer was talking about. The next day we find out that the Lawyer wanted a kickback himself, so he was showing the house to other people behind the landlord’s back. But he found someone to pay $700 more a month, so of course the landlord is going to go with them. House #2 lost. (after wasting about 3 weeks of our time)

At this point I can’t imagine going out and start looking again. Every time I would go out I would usually be driven to 5 houses that I have seen before, and maybe see 1 that was new. It was just so frustrating to see that everything cost the same (still over our hopeful budget). The guy (Sam) we had recently been working with knew a Gardner who gave him a call saying the house he worked at was going up for rent. So we hurried over there so we could be the first to look at it. As Sam showed me around, I was getting annoyed b/c this by far was the nicest house we have seen, and so there was no way we were going to be able to afford it. I was a little annoyed that he would waste our time. But he said it doesn’t hurt to call the landlord and tell him what you want to pay. So Jesse hurried over to look the place over, and called the landlord. Now although the landlord wouldn’t agree to the budget we were hoping, he was willing to come down enough so we could swing it. He gave us the contract 2 days later. You can imagine how much we were sweating it. But everything came through great. & we are loving living here! We often feel guilty living here, but then we remember that again, it didn’t seem to matter where we lived, we would be paying the exact same price as we are for this place. & there is something to be said for feeling like you have a safe, comfortable home to come home too when the stress of living overseas gets to you.

Other really cool news, is that our shipment of stuff (our couch, beds, etc) arrived 3 days after we moved into our place. I mean timing could not have been any better! How awesome is our God?!

We've Got A Two Year Old!

Yep our little guy is 2! Here's a list to let you know what he's into these days.

2 favorite words
1. Dadel (Rachel)
2. WaWa (water)

2 favorite books
1. Giggle Giggle Quack
2. Douglas


2 favorite things to do
1. Playing with a ball
2. Jumping (he started jumping in his exersauser at 6 months, and hasn't stopped since)

2 favorite things to eat
1. Bananas (he would eat 20 a day if i would let him)
2. Cu Cu (cookies)


2 things he gets in trouble for ***(make it 3-see below)
1. Killing flowers
2. Throwing things at his brother’s head

2 favorite movies
1. arrrr (backyardigans- abdominal snowman episode)
2. broom, broom (Cars)


2 favorite phases
1. No Dadel, No Dadel, Dadel, NO!!!! (he loves his sister) : )
2. me too

2 things that make us laugh
1. When he dances (his hip thrusts are hilarious!)
2. Running in circles (if he doesn’t become a runner when he is older I will be shocked!)


As you all know we are so blessed to have Isaac in our family! His name means “He laughs”, which as his personality comes out is going to be very fitting. He loves making his sister & brother laugh (& of course has us in stitches as well). HAPPY BIRTHDAY ISAAC! WE LOVE YOU!


***okay i had this all ready to go weeks ago, and was ready to hit publish, when some unnamed 2 year old came up and pushed some button that made my computer crash. & I’m not sure why but blogger didn’t save any of it. : ( & b/c it takes about 15 minutes to attach each photo it took me awhile to get back to it. So here's a very belated birthday post.

Isaac's Hair

We haven’t gotten Isaac’s hair cut in over 6 months. It’s long. Jesse and I have had a long standing debate on what to do with it. Jesse wants to braid it or have locks (dreads) put it. I’ve loved his curls, but now that we are here in Uganda, have felt like we just need to shave it off again. The men here all have shaven hair. & I get a little tired of getting dirty looks when people ask if Isaac is a girl or a boy and i tell them a boy. But I decided to go ahead and try to get his hair done...and hey if it looks terrible then we can always just shave it off, right!?

(a picture to show you isaac's hair)

So off to the salon. We go in to ask how long it would take to get what we want. They say an hour and a half. (we had brought our little movie player with us). We say great. They tell us that they guy who is going to do his hair has about 5 minutes more with his client and then we are up. Since we are at the salon, Rachel and I decide to go ahead and have pedicures done.


Now you might think we are really spoiled to have this done, but trust me our feet get really really disgusting here. We wear flip flops everywhere. and there is dirt and mud everywhere. It’s fine, but it is nice to have them scrap at least the first 10 layers of dirt off. I would put up a picture of our disgusting feet, but I don’t want to scare off any readers :) (especially you Ryan & Candice).

Well anyway so we are getting our toes done, and Jesse is just waiting with Isaac and Levi. and he keeps waiting and waiting. We actually get done, 45 minutes later, and Isaac is now just getting in his little chair. The guy looks at his hair, and proceeds to tell us that b/c his hair is so fine it’s not long enough, and we would not be happy in 3 days when it all falls out. Bummer. I’m glad he was honest with us, but I do wish he could haven told us that right when we got there. So now we don’t know what to do. He said it needs to be about an inch longer. So do we wait it out to let it grow that long, or do we just shave it? I know such a dilemma. : )

Freedom

We got a car! Jesse has been searching since he’s arrived, and we finally got ours this past week. It’s been a long hard search for him. As he told you all earlier it’s not been an easy task. In fact even with this car we now have, we were told we could pick it up Wednesday June 3rd, then the 6th, then the 10th, then 15th, & finally the day we got it the 18th!


I didn’t realize how much freedom I would feel from having a car though. But this past weekend it was so great to just be able to hop in our car and go wherever we wanted to go. And when we were done at the grocery store, to just get in our car and go home, with not having to wait 30 minutes for a taxi to come get us.

If we didn’t have kids it wouldn’t be as much of a big deal. Most people around here get around on Bodas (motorcycles). It’s how Jesse gets to work. I have not rode one yet, which Jesse gives me a hard time about. Honestly, i’m a little scared. If you saw the driving here, you would understand. But besides that, there is no way with three kids that I can get around with them on a boda. Now I have seen 3 kids and 2 adults on one before, but I know we are not that talented. So we’ve been tied down to using Taxi’s. But they aren’t all over, like tuk tuks were in Sri Lanka. So you have to usually call to have one pick you up, hence the long waiting.

So I love having a car! :) I drove quite a bit this weekend, b/c Jesse could be in the passenger seat telling me where to go. & only once did I almost hit another car. I find the driving kind of fun, b/c really anything goes. It is weird driving on the other side of the road, but luckily there are usually lots of cars everywhere so it helps remind you what side to be on. My biggest nervousness about driving is not knowing where I am going. There are no street signs, and the roads curve here and there, up and down hills, so even looking at a map is not always helpful. So hopefully I will be able to find my way home!

Classic Oversteer

When I was twelve or thirteen, my dad taught me how to drive.

The good thing about learning to drive in Nebraska is that there is no traffic to worry about. The bad thing is that your first few times behind the wheel come on gravel roads. For those of you who have never ventured to the great state of Nebraska, the land is flat, the corn is tall and the roads are gravel. That is to say that the driving surface is not paved, but rather is hard packed dirt covered with about an inch of loose sand and gravel. In the American-built, rear-wheel-drive vehicles that most Nebraskans drive, the surface initially feels somewhat like loose packed snow or black ice on a paved highway.

On a fateful Saturday afternoon in June, my Dad and I had just finished pulling a heavy, horsepower-laden engine from an old Ford Mustang and installing it into my Dad’s lightweight, rear-wheel-drive Ford Courier pickup truck. We had worked all day and were pretty proud of ourselves, but it was time to go home. My Dad climbed into our full sized Chevy pickup, and told me to follow him home in the now-supercharged Ford Courier. I couldn’t have been more excited.

About two miles into the trip, I experienced (or more accurately, engaged in) what I like to call “classic oversteer.” The truck started to get away from me a little bit, but I stayed on the gas, determined to fight through. I pulled the wheel to the left to correct my course, and the back end swung out to the right. I pulled the wheel to the right to correct my mistake, and the back end swung even further to the left. Soon I was fishtailing back and forth across the road that I was careening down. Fortunately, the fishtailing only lasted a couple of minutes. Unfortunately, it ended nose down in a culvert at the bottom of the valley. That’s right, I dumped the truck over the steepest bank I could manage to find, and totaled the truck, new engine and all.

I tell this story because learning to drive on gravel is a lot like learning to lead a team in Uganda. You get into the truck excited and ready for the challenge, feeling like a grownup with the new responsibility. You have way more horsepower than you have any business handling. You start down the road, and it is a lot of fun. You get into deep gravel, and get a bit out of shape. You make a few mistakes and you overcorrect for each of them, making even bigger mistakes. If you are not extremely careful, you can find yourself jerking the wheel back and forth, overcorrecting for every misstep, and praying that you don’t run the whole thing into the ditch.

I have an amazingly talented team of twenty-two professionals, including four Americans, one Australian and seventeen Ugandans. We have eight attorneys, four social workers, two investigators, two pastors, six administrative professionals, and me. For some reason, I have been chosen to lead this team in our efforts to bring legal relief to widows and orphans who have had their homes stolen from them by opportunistic thugs, who often happen to be their former in-laws. We receive case referrals from churches, non-profit organizations and our own legal training seminars, hearing horrific stories of defenseless women and children being thrown from their homes in their hour of need by the very people who should be protecting them. We meticulously investigate the facts of the cases to determine if the law has actually been broken. If it has, we represent the victims in legal proceedings, which may include negotiations, mediations and/or civil and crimination litigations, all designed to re-claim the properties that were stolen. And finally, we work to reintegrate the victims by providing for their basic needs for food, shelter, medicine and psychosocial support. The team was doing really well before I got here. In the first five months of 2009, we educated hundreds and hundreds of people on the laws protecting widows and orphans, recovered the homes and property of over 40 victims and secured the arrest of four perpetrators.

I just pray that I can keep this truck moving down the road as I take the wheel. The problem is that my natural tendency in a new situation is to over steer. I come in focusing on praising the team for its accomplishments on Monday, focusing on our shortcomings on Tuesday and back to the hope for tomorrow on Wednesday. I want to be everyone’s friend one day, I feel the need to exert more authority on the next, and on the third day I want to play around again. I want to let people find their own way on Wednesday, I am micromanaging on Thursday and have resolved to strictly “measure by results” again on Friday. Back and forth, left and right, each time feeling the back end of the truck swinging wider and wider.

While this is my tendency, I continue to work, hope and pray that it will not be my destiny. The first step in getting through an oversteer situation is to just relax. The second step is to stop trying so hard to correct your last misstep. Just keep moving down the road and measure your responses to your own failures. Let the horsepower work for you instead of against you. Stop correcting and start driving.
I imagine that as time goes on, I will start to feel a little more relaxed and will be able to stop correcting and start driving. If I can, the horsepower in this office has almost limitless potential, and it is going to be a lot of fine to drive.

P.S. - For those of you who have never driven on gravel, ice or snow, and thus can’t relate, imagine the first time you played Mario Kart, and how you repeatedly drove Yoshi into one wall after another as you frantically searched for the center of the road.

P.P.S. – Mom, I believe I already came clean with you on the truck incident, but if this is your first time hearing the story, sorry I never told you.

Top Ten Things I've Learned In My First Month In Uganda

• Grasshoppers Make a Tasty Treat
In Kampala, there are street vendors everywhere. Men and women who stand along the side of the road and hawk their wares to anyone who happens to drive by (if you’ve seen the ladies who walk between the cars selling roses along Frying Pan Road and Route 28 in Virginia, imagine that times 50 on every street corner and you get the idea). Recently, there have been guys carrying Tupperware buckets selling little tin foil boxes. I asked one of my co-workers what they were selling, and they said “grasshoppers, they’re a delicacy.” Now, I was thinking she meant “string hoppers” - like the Indian food – but I was mistaken. She meant the little six legged critters with the big eyes that squish bigger than life on your windshield as you drive down the highway on a hot Nebraska summer’s day. I confirmed the meaning a few days later when one of the staff brought one of the tin foil boxes to the office. They heated a bowlful of delicacies up for me in the microwave, and waited for me to flinch. I didn’t. They actually were pretty tasty. Kind of nutty, and kind of crunchy. They remind me of something I’ve had before, but I can’t think of it. If I remember I’ll let you know.

• Riding Two Dudes on a Motorcycle Does Not Mean You’re Gay
There are a few ways to get around Kampala if you don’t own a car – Hire a special hire (what we would call a taxi cab) – Take a taxi (what we would call a public bus). Special hires are expensive and I’m not nearly smart enough to figure out the taxi routes. That leaves me with one inexpensive and pretty straightforward option, which is taking a boda boda. A boda boda (or “boda” for short) is a motor cycle taxi that you can find on about any street corner. It is actually a cartel system of young men on beaten up 250 cc motorcycles, who will drive you almost anywhere for almost nothing. At first it felt a little awkward climbing on a motorcycle behind some guy I hardly new (I really don’t think knowing the guy would have made me feel any better). After I learned that you hold on to the back of the bike and not the guy’s waist it seemed less awkward. Now I don’t think twice about it. I still think twice when someone suggests that I share a boda ride with another guy. Three guys straddling the same short framed motorbike??? Even I have my limits.

• Plumbing Conducts Electricity
As Amy has already posted, we are living in a wonderful guest house owned by a wonderful family, and we couldn’t be more blessed. That being said, the place has its quirks. One of those quirks is that the hot water pipes somehow manage to conduct a small charge of electricity. Not enough to kill you, or really even hurt you very bad. Just enough to freak you out when you’re standing in the shower and you reach to turn the hot water up and experience a shock somewhat similar to five times the shock experienced by licking a nine volt battery (if you’ve never done this, don’t – if your brother or sister has never done this, I highly recommend it). It also shocks you when you run the hot water while doing the dishes. Now, both my experience with the phenomenon and my host tells me that it doesn’t really hurt and it isn’t that big of a deal, but something deep down inside says electricity and water are not a good combination.

• The World Really Sees Us Through the Eyes of Television
I am really trying to spend a lot of time getting to know my staff, and part of that is just sitting around talking about nothing. In all of this mindless chit chat, I have really seen the power of American television, and how it shapes the way the rest of the world sees life in America. One of my African co-workers told me that she thought if you were black in America, you were likely in a gang, and if you were in a gang in America, you were definitely black. In another conversation, she commented about school shootings and how they were such an everyday occurrence in America. The source of both ideas – American television. What really got to me thinking about the second media-induced stereotype was that the day before she made the comment about school shootings, a Ugandan police officer got into a disagreement with a woman in a bar and opened fire, killing eight people. The story didn’t even make the front page of the paper here in Uganda, much less the American press. If that had happened in the U.S., it would have been a huge anomaly and it would have run at the top of every news cycle for six months. And the rest of the world would believe that all Americans live in fear of a dangerous and malicious police force.

• My Wife is a Sickly Saint
Whenever you travel with someone, you learn something about that person. When you move overseas together you look somewhat deeper into their soul. I’ve learned two things about my wife in our recent move. First, I learned that her immune system is not built for travel. She is recovering from her fourth major illness in three weeks. Upset stomach, fever, cough and cold – you name it, she’s had it. Second, she is not about to let a severe fever and stomach cramps get her down. Through all of her ailments, she has kept a really good attitude. Only once that I can remember has she said that she is ready to pack it in. If I was as sick as she has been week in and week out, and if I had been forced to be locked in a guest house with our three lovely, innocent, well-behaved, obedient and ever-joyful children, I wouldn’t have just talked about packing it in. I just hope all the bacteria (and my kids) give up before she does.

• People Eat the Entire Goat
The major staple in Uganda is matoke, which is a pasty substance made of smashed bananas (not the sweet ones that you and I are used to). It isn’t that good, but what is good is the rice and stewed meat that you get with it at most Ugandan restaurants. Given how tasty the stewed goat was at a local restaurant, I was pretty excited when we ordered takeout goat (I realize that just sounds really strange) for the office. I was less excited when it arrived. Apparently, there are two types of stewed goat that one can order from this particular establishment. The first is just like any stewed meat – bite sized chunks of meat similar to cubed roast cooked in a really tasty broth. The second, which is what I received on this particular date, was something else. Now, I’ve grown up around the farm, I’ve been involved in a lot of butchering and I’ve field dressed a deer, and I’m pretty sure that what was in that bowl, simmering in a tasty broth, is found among the parts that we generally left in the field. I want to say pancreas or gall bladder, but who really knows. Clearly, I had ordered poorly. The broth was good.

• Mother Nature Will Take it All Back
Discovery Channel recently ran a program about what would happen if man ceased to exist, and concluded that Mother Nature would wipe all evidence of man off the planet in about 1000 years. In Uganda, it would take about six months. If you drop your pizza crust from the table, in five minutes an entire army of ants is already dismantling it and carrying it away. If some unfortunate critter fails to make it across the road, a pack of stray dogs is carrying it away within hours. If the City paves a road in December, it is back to dirt in late February. If your sidewalk gets dirty on Monday morning, it is sprouting some sort of plant – if not a tree – by Thursday afternoon. For the latent environmentalist in me, it is good to see that in a place as polluted and nasty as Kampala, Mother Nature is not willing to just lay over and die.

• I’m Not as Good of a Dad as I Wish I Was
I always kind of felt bad for parents that are perpetually telling their children, “no.” You know what I’m talking about – “don’t touch that Billy, Sally stay away from the edge. No, Johnny, you can’t hit the dog, No, Don’t, Stop, I’m going to count to three….” With Rachel, I never really had to do that, and I often felt pretty good about myself as a parent. Pride cometh before the fall. With Rachel, Isaac and Levi, cooped up in someone else’s house with a yard filled with treacherous cliffs and strange bugs, I find myself saying “no” constantly. The worst part is that, the more I say “no,” the less my kids listen. I know this, and yet the number of “nos” that proceed from my lips seem to multiply daily. And if that doesn’t work, I add meaningless threats or a raised voice, which only serves to make me look stupid, to ensure that my kids have no respect for me whatsoever, and to absolutely guarantee that my kids won’t listen when I say “no” to something serious. Man, I suck at this.

• Shaggy’s Not That Great In Concert
The other night Shaggy (the rapper, not the Scooby Doo sidekick) played Kampala. We happen to live a couple miles from the venue he was playing, and there are apparently no sound restrictions in Kampala. I never really wanted to hear Shaggy in concert, but now I have. He may as well have been playing in our living room. While the music wasn’t that good, the concert was entertaining. The most entertaining part was listening to Shaggy do all of the mindless flatteries of the audience that have become standard for every concert (you know what I mean, “I’ve played a lot of places on this tour, and I’ve got to tell you, nothing – mean nothing – beats Dayton, Ohio on a Tuesday). In the instant case, Shaggy came out a spirited version of "Angel", and during the bridge, he delighted the crowd with, “Last night I played a crowd in Batswana, and I told them that the party is in Kampala.” Now maybe the party is in Kampala, and maybe it isn’t. In any event, I couldn’t help thinking that what he really wanted to be yelling was, “What the #$$I**@! I sold out Madison Square Garden five years ago, and now I’m barely filling the stands in Kampala at 15 bucks a head.”

• I Miss My Friends and Family
Every time I have a new experience here in Uganda (and that is about every time I take a breath), I think to myself, “man do I wish ____ was here to see this,” or “_____ would love that.” Worse yet, every time I have an “African time” or a “Ugandan promise” experience, I think to myself, man I wish I was sitting down at Five Guys with _____, or at the basketball court with _______. I can’t tell you all how much Amy and I miss everyone back home. Thank you for your prayers. We really, reeeeaaaaaalllllyyy need them.

Fun With Water

On Sunday we went to one of the churches we have been visiting. After the service they were going to serve lunch and have a giant slip & slide for the kids. They weren't kidding. It was HUGE!


They also had a small little pool out for the kids.


Rachel & Isaac ran right out to play. At one point in the afternoon I look down at Isaac, he has someone's dirty shoe and is filing it with water from the pool and then proceeds to drink it. Just in case you're wondering, no we are not supposed to drink the water here.

Today (Tuesday) we were taking a taxi to a friends house to let the kids play a bit. We are about 5 minutes from home, when Isaac begins to throw up all over the cab. I have to tell the guy to turn around b/c "sorry but my kid is yacking all over the place". The driver was very gracious, but it was disgusting. After helping the guy clean out his car, I go put Isaac in the bath. He's playing fine, and then leans down in the bath and starts lapping up the water... will he ever learn?!

Transactions Without Truth

There are a lot of things that make you tired about moving to Africa. You get tired because you never really know where you are and none of the streets are marked. You get tired because, even though everyone speaks English, you can’t understand a single thing that anyone says. You get tired because your kids are up sick in the night on a pretty regular basis. You get tired because things that used to be easy, like taking a warm shower, may take twenty minutes of planning and a master’s level feat of engineering.

There is, however, one thing that makes me more tired than anything else - dishonesty - consistent, blatant, unrepentant dishonesty. The honest truth about Uganda is that honesty is an extremely rare commodity. Everyone here lies. And the crazy thing is that no one seems to care - or really even notice - when someone is lying to them.

Now, there are small lies, there are big lies, and there are silly lies. Small lies are told by the taxi cab driver who says he “will be there in 10 minutes time,” when he really has no intention to arrive for over an hour. Big lies are told by your internet service provider who charges over one thousand dollars per month for “broadband service of 256 kbps” when the monitor on the router demonstrates that less than 50 kbps is actually flowing through your modem (for comparison purposes dial up in the U.S is 56 kbps). Silly lies are told by the same internet service provider when you show him the printout and he tells you that the problem is not that he has failed to provide you what was promised but rather that you failed to buy the more expensive package.

This seemingly accepted practice of systematic dishonesty makes commercial transactions nearly impossible. For example, Amy and I are desperately searching for a vehicle to purchase on the second-hand bulletin boards (imagine Craig’s list on the wall of a grocery store). Last week, I find what appears to be an ideal 1994 Toyota Land Cruiser. The price is a bit high, but it says it is negotiable, so I give it a shot. I call the number and talk to Sam. Sam tells me that he has the vehicle at his office, and that I should come to see it (lie #1). I arrive at Sam’s office, and he says that the vehicle actually isn’t there, but it is on its way (lie #2). He talks with someone on the phone and then tells me he’ll just bring the vehicle to my office later that afternoon (not quite a lie, but not necessarily true). He hands me a copy of the flyer with a picture of the vehicle and its identifying details, and I go on my way, having wasted an hour and a half of my day.

Later that afternoon, I get a phone call about the vehicle I wanted to see. I am told that the vehicle has arrived and that the caller, who I assumed to be Sam, will be over in a couple of minutes to show it to me (lie #3). An hour and a half later, two men show up in a Toyota Land Cruiser. Neither is Sam. I instead meet Richard. I pull out the flyer, show it to Richard and ask him if the car he brought is the one in the picture. Richard looks me square in the face and says, “yes it is” (lie #4). I point out the fairly obvious fact that the photo is of a vehicle with the word Prado painted prominently on the doors, and the vehicle in front of me bears no such markings. Richard is unphaased. I ask Richard what happened to Sam and the vehicle in the photo. Richard says, “Sam actually sold that particular vehicle this morning and asked me to bring this one instead” (lie #5). Moments later, Sam calls ready to show me the car we discussed this morning. He is somewhat upset by the fact that someone has tried to beat him to the sale. Richard, tells me that the caller must be an imposter (lie #6).

Intrigued by the drama, I go ahead and inspect the vehicle. I pop the hood and immediately notice that the second battery (turbo diesel engines have two batteries -who knew?) is missing. I ask Richard why there is only one battery and he says, “this is a different model - the model with two batteries has a lot of mechanical problems - one battery Land Cruisers are better.” (lie #6). I decide it is not worth pointing out the gaping hole with two now-empty connector cables where the missing battery should have been. I walk around to the side of the vehicle, and look at the insurance sticker, which prominently states that the current policy period commenced in June 2008. While standing directly in front of Richard and looking directly at the sticker, I ask “when was the vehicle imported to Uganda.” Without blinking, Richard says “three months ago.” (lie #7). I point out the sticker’s date, and move on. I look at the old school odometer and notice that the vehicle has significantly less mileage than my old 2002 Volkswagen and that the mileage of this vehicle is amazingly within 100 kilometers of the mileage listed for the vehicle in the flyer (lies #7 an #8). I ask Richard somewhat jokingly about whether his boss rolls back the odometers himself. At this Richard gets very earnest, and says, “it is not possible to tamper with such an odometer, as they are completely tamper proof (lie #9).

I just laugh and join in the fun, telling my new friend Richard that even I know how to roll back a fourteen year old odometer (lie #10).