Morning came and with it the sounds of cows mooing and cars honking. I love foreign countries. I love the sounds of the car horns announcing their presence on the roads. From my window I could see people walking everywhere - some with packages underneath their arms and others with bananas in baskets balanced upon their heads. I could hardly wait to get dressed and walk the streets. What was Uganda really like? Would I find joy or heartache? Are the people friendly or suspicious? Eric ordered breakfast for us and before I could even get out of bed a girl appeared in my room and handed me a plate of scrambled eggs and toast and a yellow banana. I sat in bed eating my breakfast quite content with the start of my day.
It was already sticky out when I got dressed. I knew it would be a hot day. By 10:30 we left the hotel and began the mile walk to our missionary's school. Here in the slums, an education was offered along with food and clothing and love. A lot of love. The school was surrounded by a tall brick wall and a gate with a tiny window in the door. We knocked and it swung open. It was just like The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy opened her door and the colors filled my eyes. There were children everywhere playing and chasing each other. There was shouting and wrestling and laughter. It was nothing like I had expected! The children were instantly interested in the mazugoos (foreigners) that had arrived. They surrounded us and began to bow on one knee when it was their turn to greet us. These children were not unloved and uncared for. I found just the opposite. They were clothed and fed. They were loved by Cari and her staff. They were learning to read and how to hold a pencil and how to write. I have never been so delighted! I was such a disruption that I couldn't stay in the classrooms to watch the morning session. All the children strained to look at me and to get my attention. If they only knew how much they captivated me! At lunch, Cari and I sat on the school porch and she would point out a child and tell me his or her story. "That one over there is a war refugee from a neighboring country," she said. "This one's mother just died of AIDS. She lives with her aunt now. That boy's dad was just killed on a motorcycle last week. We are loving on him a lot right now. This little girl is losing weight. We think she has HIV. That child lives in a house in the slums that floods with sewer water when it rains. And this one just came to live with me. He is a total orphan and needed a home. So he is mine now." And she smiled. I would have never thought any of this was true just by watching them play. It was loud jubiliant play! I would return for recess day after day just to sit and witness this while I was there. I didn't want to miss it. In the middle of the slums, Jesus shines brightly.
Cari took me on a walk around my hotel in the slums later that week. I had been sponsoring a child with her for over a year and wanted to meet him. He lived in the slums with his grandmother that was crippled and old. Both of Edwards parents had died and she was caring for him and his cousin. The houses in the slums were made of mud bricks. Some had doors and others had sheets hung on frames. There were children everywhere by the dozens. I found out walking with her that fifty-two percent of Ugandans are under the age of fifteen. That is a staggering number. This is the result of AIDS that has ravaged this land. She told me that Edward did not have AIDS. He was healthy and doing well in school. We walked down packed dirt alleys and around a mud brick shed and there was Edward sitting with his grandmother. I recognized him instantly from his picture. His grandmother was preparing to cook dinner for him. Edward immediately knelt down in front of us with respect. I still don't know what to do with that. The children are taught to speak quietly and softly. I always think that we Americans can learn so much good from other cultures. Just think what the whole world would be like if we were all so respectful of each other like the children of Uganda. Edward was a bit shy. He was clean and well mannered and talked quietly to Cari when she asked him how his day had been. I watched him sitting among us and loved him immediately. I had brought him a soccer ball all the way from America in my luggage. While walking to his house I noticed that the children were playing with sticks and can lids. They had nothing. The soccer ball would be a big hit in his part of the slum. When he saw it he immediately wanted to go play and suddenly ten or so kids showed up to join us. We played for some time with him and we all had a really good time. When we went back to his house I asked him if he needed anything. He got up without saying a word and went into the house. I looked at Cari and she just said wait. He came back out with a pencil and a piece of paper. He wrote his name down and then began writing a list: shoes, pencils, a math set, shoe polish, writing books, colored pencils and a piano. He handed me the list. The list was so precious to me. I have it upstairs in my desk drawer. He gave me his list of needs and then threw in the piano for good measure. I smiled at him and told him I'd be back the next day with these things. I knew I couldn't get him a piano but the rest I could most certainly do. I had him put his bare foot next to mine and I measured them so I could get at least close to his right size. We had all had a good time visiting this little boy in the slums. The joy is always mine on encounters like this. Why is that?
As we walked out of the slums Cari told me that witchcraft was practiced heavily in that area of Kampala. Did I know that Edward's grandmother was a witch doctor? I was stunned. She was kind to us. Edward was clean and well mannered. It never dawned on me that she was a practicing witch doctor! I'm so naive. And then Cari said, "When a family gets really strained and there is absolutely no money they still sacrifice a young child for wealth." "Are you serious?" I asked? Cari told me that of course she was and that it had happened just recently. The child just disappears one day and then the rumors begin. Kampala may be prominently a Christian country but evil still crawls around in the dirt among the people. What do you think about that? Sometimes I hear stories like this and I just can't believe that they are true. But they are.
I did return the next day with Edward's list. I went to his school and met his principal who turned out to be a hoot and flirted with Eric before he could tell her that he was married - to me! She just giggled. She is something else. She runs a huge school for the poorest of children. I could tell that she ran a tight ship too. She had it up and going well and was quite serious about her task. She was glad that Edward had our support and encouragement. Edward came in and I gave him his new shoes, the colored pencils and even a couple of story books that I had picked up in town. I'm just smitten by him. I want him to do well in school. I want him to be happy. I want him to know Jesus.
So in Uganda I found great joy! A sea of laughing, happy children at Cari's day school and I found despair in the slums where witchcraft is practiced and poverty drives people to do unthinkable things. I'm going back to Uganda in October. There is much work to do there. I want to watch the kids play at recess and I'll go up north to the village where we are starting a missionary training center for Ugandan believers. There are land deals to be made and papers to be signed and a little boy named Savior to be checked upon. I'm looking forward to it.
Does anyone have a tiny piano?
