Monday, October 29, 2012

Rural homestay - living like an african


Hello everyone! I know it has been a long time since I last posted, but i actually have a good reason this time. I just got back from my RURAL HOMESTAY in central Uganda! We stayed in what one typically thinks of when they think of an african village. They split us all up, some of us Americans were paired up two to a host family, but I was placed by myself with my own family filled with about ten kids, a toto (mom), and tata (grandma). Not only did this make things eventful with so many people running around, but I had about twelve pigeon friends, tons of goats with their young, six ducks, five turkeys, four cows with their calves, seven chickens, eight pigs, a dog, and a newborn kitten.
            This was a very different experience from my other homestay in the urban setting for many reasons. I have gotten used the sound of roosters crowing and cows mooing in the distance and actually might miss the sound when I come back home. The constant smell of campfire as well! Here I stayed in a hut, woke up everyday and was able to help out with daily tasks. things like weeding the garden, digging up sweet potatoes, pumpkins, and greens to eat, fetching for water from a well and carrying it back balancing on my head (which is actually a lot harder than it looks, and really starts to hurt your neck after a while), shelling ground-nuts (local peanuts), milking the cows, and I even got to slaughter my own chicken to cook for dinner. I loved every minute of it! Yes, I pooped in a hole and sometimes even used leaves to wipe when I ran out of toilet paper, haha. (I knew someone would be curious to know) Anyways, It was customary for me being a girl to wear the longer skirts everyday and help out as much as I could, and in my free time, which I had lots of, I could play with the kids and just relax and enjoy the abundance of food around. It is crazy how every tree, bush, and plant here seems to produce some kind of fruit or produce (that might be an exaggeration, not every single one, but it would be rare to stumble upon something that didn’t produce something). Just on my family’s land there were orange trees, jackfruit trees, papayas, mangoes, different types of berries, and pretty much anything imaginable! I think it is safe to say that I overate while I was there. From living here for a week, I am unsure as to were the typical stereotype of “starving kids in Africa” comes from. We ate heaps of food for our meals, and then ate or drank porridge (which I really didn’t care for because it just tasted like warm spit to me) every minute in between. Everything that was left over was fed to the animals. When you own your own farmland, there is always more you can go dig up, harvest, or plant to make sure you never run out, unless of course the rain or weather does not cooperate. Although, a lot of what they ate was carbs and things that would just fill up your stomach, with not much taste, for instance, the bread called atapa. This stuff had no yeast and was made out of millet grain and was the consistency of a giant blob that the whole family would pull pieces off of to eat for every meal. I was not such a fan.
            The kids out in the rural settings are super self-sufficient. I swear each and every one of them is a wizard with a knife and can cut open any fruit without slicing their fingers, or chop up potatoes or food for meals just as well as their parents could. (wayyyy better than me, I might add). They can all build fires better than some dads I know back in the states. And they lift, dig, and work so hard that they have so much endurance and strength, especially in such hot, dry heat. My little host sister Getrude, who is nine years old, was the most helpful person ever. Her English was actually pretty good for her age and she usually was the one to tell me when it was time to bathe or eat… or just what to do next so I didn’t completely embarrass myself by missing out on some kind of cultural insight I was supposed to know. I shared a room with her and even bathed out of the same bucket with her, so it is easy to say that we quickly became very close. My host mom Christine was so sweet as well. She was a single mother because her husband left her years ago to take care of the kids alone with her mother. She was such a strong-willed person, and a very sociable and well-known person around the village. Every time we walked around to someone else’s hut, everyone knew her and she was so eager to show me off.
            Everything was done outside, whether it is light or dark. You have the sun or the moon to provide enough light for you to work. They didn’t just stop after it got dark. Also, the light in the morning was viewed as good for your soul and everyone wakes up as soon as the sun rises to try to soak up as much of this sunlight as possible. The one morning I had woken up early, but stayed in my room to read and journal a little and my host mom came in asking me if I felt okay, because she thought I was sick… why else wouldn’t I come out to experience this rejuvenating, magic morning sunlight? Oh! Also the one morning I woke up, there was a chicken on my bead sleeping with me. As soon as I shushed it away, there were two eggs laying on my bed! It had hatched eggs in my bed while I was sleeping!! Also, I suppose that the prayers there were very important because night after night or morning there were prayers that were spoken for hours upon a time. Sometimes I would even be woken up at two or four in the morning by someone screaming and yelling and crying in Atesso (the rural language)… the first time I heard it all I thought someone had died and was almost afraid to go see what was happening.
            Killing the chicken was my most favorite part of the entire week! I kept begging my host mom day after day if we could slaughter one, but she waited until the last night to let me. Cruelty. Anyways, my two of my host brothers had to chase the chicken around the compound twice just to catch it, Haha. Once they did, my brother Johnny flung it upside down, tied its feet together and brought it over to a hole in the ground for the process to begin. He told me I was to step on its feet with one foot, and its wings with my other foot. Then I held the head with one hand and sliced the neck with the other hand. This would have been easier said than done if the knife was actually sharpened! No, this was the dullest knife ever, and I had to saw at that poor chickens neck until the blood started squirting out. Even after the head was off, the body was still squirming and moving (and I even asked my mom if I would have let it go, she said it would have run around with its head cut off – so yes, that rumor is true, ladies and gentleman!) Anyways, I was covered in its blood by the time the whole ordeal was over. However, I was to put the chicken in a hot, boiling pot of water to make the feather pluck off easier. After we defeathered it, it was time to chop it up! Johnny was explaining to me every single part of the organs, digestive system, and even how they save certain parts like the liver, heart, and gizzard to eat because they are a specialty. (GROSSSS!) anyways, eating it was actually really good! My African family knew how to cook some good chicken! Yum!
            Without boring you all and going on and on, Ill close this blog with one of my favorite sights, which was the night sky. Every night, my family would lay out this mat for me to sit on and I would stare up at the millions of stars, with my little kitten friend Penelope as I named her, sitting in my lap. God is soooo immense to create such a beautiful, vast sight! There were easily ten times the amount of stars I am used to seeing back in the states without all the pollution, cars, and lights to drown out the little twinkling dots I saw! I would sit there in complete awe of my Creator! He is so great for even presenting me with this opportunity to come to Africa, make the friendships I have, and enjoy four whole months here understanding and experiencing His new mercies everyday. 

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

first world problems

So, in class lately, we have been talking about poverty. as much as this is a funny little video to portray it, the way we complain about our problems really mean nothing in the scope of problems that other people face around the world.
This is just a challenge to keep yourself (and myself included) in check about what comes out of our mouths and how we should realize how blessed we really are...


Sunday, October 14, 2012

in your unending love

a song that i have been recently obsessed with. 
its a rather new one done by hillsong.
it has gotten me through my hardest times while im here in uganda
and when i went to church today they sang it
it was the biggest blessing
God has a crazy way of giving you just what you need when you least expect it...

"now and forever
your face is all i seek
now all i am 
i lay at your feet
im humbled by the wonder of your majesty
one thing i know
i find all i need
in your unending love"

Friday, October 12, 2012

Passion World Tour comes to Uganda

So, a couple weeks ago, i had the opportunity to go into the capital of Uganda and attend this huge worship concert/conference called Passion. I dont know if anyone has heard of it, it's actually pretty big in the US as well and it is normally held in Atlanta or somewhere that they can rent out a huge stadium or space to fit thousands of people and just have a concert full of worship songs.
First of all, it was crazy that we even had the chance to go because our headquarters and directors told us that normally when there are gatherings that big, you have to be careful of things like bomb or terrorists threats, but by the grace of God, they let us go. but wait, thats not even the best part... yes it was a great privilage that we got to attend, but an even bigger blessing was the price that we had to pay. It was only two thousand shillings when we showed our student ID's. now, let me translate the significance of how much money that is in reality. the conversion here is every $1 is two thousand and five hundred shillings, just about. ...yupppp, you see the reality of it now, and why i am freaking out about how small of an amount this was. I paid 80 cents to go to this concert, and essentially paid more for the granola bar that i took inside than i did to actually go. ladies and gentlemen, this is the definition of INSANE. tickets to these concerts in the states go for about $200-300!
when we got there, it was weird to see so many different muzungus (white foreigners, like myself). i kept wondering what they were doing there and im sure they were questioning the same things about our group as well. Were they on short term missions trips, studying abroad like me, living in africa, or what? But the more i thought about it, the more i realized that it didnt matter where they were from, it was just so unbelievable to think that God brought us all there for that one night to lift up the name of Jesus. It was amazing to hear Chris Tomlin and Christy Nockels (the female lead of the band Hillsong) play a few songs and Louie Giglio speak. I think the coolest part was the realization of just how many thousands and thousands (31,000 to be exact) of people were there (Ugandan, European, American, and im sure all kinds of other Africans), excited to worship the Lord. all with their hands lifted straight in the air and screaming at the top of their lungs for what their God has done for them. Yes, we all speak different languages, come from different backgrounds, have been through so many diverse experiences, but we all believe in the same God. He has had an impact on each and every heart there and empowered all those people with his Holy Spirit. It was amazing to be able to pray with some of those around me and just know that we had that one common factor uniting us. it was beautiful. i dont know how else to describe it. a very rejuvenating experience for me, being so far from home and constantly being stretched and molded spiritually. i have never felt more grateful or blessed.