Water is Life

One of the protect springs used before Kiyoora

Since August I’ve been looking forward to February and being able to work with Africa Community Technical Service (ACTS). ACTS is a Canadian organization that works throughout Uganda doing agricultural and water projects. As the short term team left and we finished our last week of camp up in Gulu at the end of January, I was excited to get away from the city and head south into the mountains for the four week trip. We knew we would be helping with the Kiyoora project repairs, but we did not know what that entailed. The Kiyoora project is a water project that ACTS began back in 1996 and completed in 1999. Like all of their water projects, Kiyoora is a gravity flow system, meaning a clean, flowing water source at the highest elevation possible was tapped into and, along with a reservoir built to collect rain water, the two supplied water for 6 (now 7) cells or villages. Miles of underground PVC pipes were laid to connect the source, the reservoir, and a couple dozen taps that are scattered among the cells. The project made water collection much easier and provided cleaner water to over 2634 people when it was originally created, but over the years the project has slowly begun to fail due to lack of maintenance, illegal taps being added, and committee members embezzling the tapstand fees.  

We (Andrew and I) thought that we would be getting our hands dirty helping with the manual repairs and we were really looking forward to actually getting to do some physical labor. Some friends and I have dreamt of coming to Africa and digging wells, so I was pumped about getting to work on this project. We were sorely disappointed, however, to find that our role was nothing near what we expected. Instead, we, along with two Canadians, were given translators and split into four two person teams. Every day, for about two weeks, we went into a different cell and surveyed anywhere from 3 to 7 homeowners with an 8 page questionnaire. I will admit after a few days it got rather boring listening to our translators do all the work as we checked yes and no boxes for 4 hours straight. One day, in between writing down the time it took to collect water before and after the repair, I began to think about just how important this project is to the people we were surveying, though.

I know I’m guilty of being selfish and feeling entitled to things back in America (aren’t all Americans?), but here I was sitting in a mud plastered house, being offered bananas and millet (disgusting, sand-like “juice”) from one of the homeowners I came to serve and I was concerned about how bored I was having to sit quietly for a few hours - talk about self-absorbed. The slap in the face was so humbling, though, and I appreciated the reality check… I’m spoiled! I mean I already knew I was spoiled and this journey has continued to reveal this truth to me, but it’s one of those things that has to be continually kept in check. Yes, I have been beyond blessed and I feel like most of us admit this most of the time, but when something doesn’t go quite our way we still get all bent out of shape. My hope is the next time something goes “wrong” instead of throwing a fit I’ll be able to look back to the people in Kiyoora and see how they were dealt much worse hands than me and yet they are not just doing what they can with what they’ve got grudgingly, rather they are praising God for what little they have and fully appreciating it. I know I’m only human and I’m definitely going to get frustrated… daily… like as the boys run around the house screaming my name as I try to write this blog… but looking at the big picture helps to put things into perspective. I compiled all the data from the 151 houses that we surveyed, so let me share just a handful of the results with you.

Before the Kiyoora water project people collected water from springs, wells, streams, dams, even swamps. 15.89% said the water was not reliable during the dry season and 29.8% said the water was bad. Water was fetched about 3.75 times a day and the average time each trip took was 38.98 minutes. 52.98% of the children were late to school from fetching water and 72.19% of the households reported illnesses due to their water. The Kiyoora taps provided cleaner and closer water with more pressure which made collection faster. Even with the project the average time to fetch water was 22.61 minutes, yet everyone we surveyed was extremely happy with how “quick” the taps made getting water.

I don’t have to worry about not having a reliable water source in dry season. I don’t have to boil my water to make sure it’s clean enough to drink. I don’t have to wake up before sunrise to fetch water. I don’t have to worry about being beaten, robbed, or raped when fetching water at dusk. I don’t have to walk 20 minutes to an hour just to get one jerry can of water. Many of the villagers shared with us one of ACTS phrases, “Water is Life.” Well my life, just like my water, is so good and I have nothing to complain about!

I'm coming home, I'm coming home

Btw Ugandans are against smiling in pictures evidently... they were a lot happier in person.

Diddy’s song “Coming Home” seems to be very popular around here and we always hear the boys, humming, whistling, or singing it around the New Life Homes. A few weeks ago I was able to watch a boy live out these lyrics. On December 31^st one my favorite boys at the homes, Emma, asked me if I would take him home on January 15^th. I told him I would love to, but I’d have to make sure our team wasn’t doing anything that day. The next day – after deciding that it would be ok for me to go – I let Emma know that I would be joining him on his trip home. His eyes opened wide and he stuttered out, “Really?!... Yea! That’s cool!” as he gave me a fist bump and his grin grew from ear to ear. He seemed more excited than I was about my joining him, even though I was clearly the lucky one to be a part of this journey.

A few weeks later I was waking up at 7am to meet Emma and Uncle William in the taxi park for the long ride. It was only about a 3 hour ride, but 3 hours in a cramped, hot taxi on a bumpy, crater-filled road seems a little longer than 3 hours in a nice air conditioned car on a smooth highway in the states. Anyway I’m somewhat used to the public transportation here by now and the combination of the beautiful view, the talk with Emma, and the delicious, roasted plantain and the goat on a stick that William bought us when the taxi pulled over and was bombarded by street vendors made the drive seem a lot shorter. Once we got as close as we could by taxi we hopped off and jumped onto boda bodas. This boda ride was one of my favorites as we scaled down a steep, bouncy hill and then spent 20 minutes or so winding through a gorgeous valley on a tiny foot path. We soon turned off and came to a stop in front of a little house next to a few wooden huts. Emma looked over at me, trying to hold back his excitement, and told me we had arrived.

I must admit the entire morning I had been worrying so much about what would happened once we arrived at Emma’s house. It had been 5 years since Emma was last home and he had had no communication with his family whatsoever. Needless to say, I had spent the whole morning praying that they would still be living there, that they would be home, that they would want Emma back, and that they would be able to afford to have him there for the week-long visit. After a brief look around and a conversation with a neighbor we discovered that they were in the village attending church. So Uncle William hopped back on a boda and went to fetch them as Emma and I sat in the front yard and chatted. While waiting I was filled with so much joy listening to Emma’s excitement. “That hut over there, I helped build it!... Eh?! That little girl, she’s my cousin! When I left she was tiny, tiny, tiny, now look at her!!... Wow!! She say’s my sister has graduated S6 (senior year in high school)!!! That’s so good!!!” His excitement built up more and more until before long two boda bodas pulled up with Uncle William, a young man, and an old man.

The two men came over, gave Emma big hugs, laughed and started blabbering off all kinds of things in Luanda. Emma introduced the two as his uncle (whom he has called father ever since his parents died when he was young) and his older cousin/“brother”. The men invited us inside and Emma’s cousin explained that when Emma’s parents died Emma, his younger brother, and his older sister were split up between his father’s siblings. Emma went with the oldest brother who was/is a farmer and could not afford to put Emma through school so Emma would go out to the village to his other Aunt’s house and would dig ditches and do other labor with her son to earn money. One day Emma had had enough and had decided that surely he could do better for himself in Kampala so he hid in a banana truck that was heading for Kampala and made his escape. Emma’s cousin told us how they were so worried about him that they even suspected that the Aunt had sold him off since her son came back from the village but Emma had not. I could not wipe the smile off my face from all the love that was in that room. Within an hour or so Emma’s “mom” (aunt) returned and I was once again blessed to witness another joyous reunion. Before leaving Emma ran over and gave me a huge hug, told me he loved me, told me to tell the boys in the New Life Homes that he loved them and thanked me for joining him. Words cannot even begin to describe the joy in his eyes! As we got onto a boda boda to leave Emma’s family ran out with a bunch of bananas and offered them to me as a gift for bringing their son home. I reluctantly accepted, gave Emma another hug, and rode away with so much happiness from the amazing morning I had just had.

Once we got onto a taxi William told me he had to stop at another boy’s house for a meeting. After about an hour we stopped in another village and I found myself at medium Moses’ house (not to be confused with big Moses or little Moses who are also in the homes). The mother and the seven small children ran outside and hugged me, catching me completely off guard, basically pulled us inside, sat us down, brought us a huge meal, got us sodas, and just kept thanking us. William told me that Moses’ dad (who was away working) wanted to thank me and a few seconds later I heard a phone ringing. Moses’ mom handed me the phone and there was Moses’ dad thanking me so much for bringing his son home to him. William explained how the family moved out of Kampala when Moses was younger and how Moses ran away from home to stay in the city instead of moving into the village. Now the family was rejoicing to be back together, told me that Moses was not nearly as stubborn as he used to be and thanked me (as if I had anything to do with it) time after time for bringing their son back to them. Once again, before leaving I was showered with gifts as the mother handed me a giant bag full of sweet potatoes and paw paws (papayas). The family asked for a picture with me and then they walked us down to boda boda stop where William and I set off to visit his family quickly and then finally made our way home.

It was definitely a long day, but by far one of my favorite days here in Uganda. I have found that even though we come in contact with hundreds of boys on the streets of Kampala with horrible pasts and sad stories of their families, there story is not finished. God hates seeing his children sleeping on those streets… cold, hungry, lonely and feeling unwanted and unloved. He has created us to be relational and He wants to see us in loving, caring families. Being able to see the closeness and the love of two reunions that day was sooo encouraging and I cannot wait to see or hear how God is going to bring the dirty, lonely street boys we see everyday into a family. Some of the boys will be reunited with their blood family, some will have a group of friends become their family, some will/are being taken in by a couple of Muzungus (Mallory and Katie) and are just being showered by love (both the girls’ and God’s) and I pray that all of the boys will come to a saving knowledge of Christ one day and will be adopted into God’s family as His sons. I have so much hope for these boys and their future and I want nothing more than to one day hear each of their hearts singing “Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday. I know my kingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes. I’m coming home, I’m coming home, tell the world that I’m coming home!”

I'm Back

Sooooo clearly my procrastination skills from high school/college have carried over into other aspects of my life, such as blog writing. So since I have successfully made it through the past month and a half without posting anything, I suppose I'll give you guys a brief update. And I mean brief!

Camping in December and Wishing for AC
For four weeks our team took 12 of the secondary school boys from the New Life Homes to four different Abaana schools for week long camps. While camp certainly varied somewhat from day to day and from school to school, a basic day included having 50-100 primary school kids, and even babies, showing up bright and early in the morning, splitting them up into four groups, playing games within the groups, having a drum circle, making arts and crafts, making baking soda / vinegar volcanoes, memorizing Matthew 5:6, learning about the woman at the well, worshiping, and just hanging out and forming friendships. Each week dozens of kids responded to Wednesday's lesson about Jesus being Living Water and while we do not know how many truly accepted Him into their hearts as a result of camp, we rejoice in the seeds that were planted and that God allowed us to be a part of the planting. In a single word, camp was... exhausting. Being able to teach, play, and laugh with the children was so good and so rewarding, but by the end of the day I was definitely ready for bed. Unfortunately, the dozen high school boys we had around were still there, still shouting and laughing, and still texting and blaring music at 3am. Let's just say my patience was running a little thin by the end of the 4 weeks of camp, but the beautiful heart to hearts and the amazing friendships we formed with the boys over those weeks, as well as the opportunity to watch the boys take on leadership and responsibility was certainly priceless and well worth the lost sleep.

Dreaming of a White Christmas
Christmas was obviously different for me this year. As Christmas approached I feared that my entire day would be depressing and I would simply be wishing I was home. While I certainly missed having my family around me, it was such a good Christmas! We woke up early in the morning to head to one of the slums where we spend a lot of time. Upon arriving I made an "American breakfast" (pancakes and hashbrowns) over the charcoal, while the girls unpacked the peanut butter banana muffins that Mallory made and cut some pineapples. After a great breakfast with 8 street boys and 2 uncles, we headed off to church. Church, as always had an amazing praise and worship session and it was so cool to know that the people 5 floors below us could hear us praising just as much as we could hear them scurrying along the streets. The rest of the day (and the next 3 days) can be summed up in one beautiful word... rest!

14 Crazy Muzungus! 
Last Thursday we met the American Team of 14 at the airport to bring them back to the guest house. The house has been 14 times louder,  14 times crazier, has had 14 times as much laughter, has been 14 times more full of the Holy Spirit, and has just been 14 times better than it has been in the last 3 months with the team around. It is crazy at how encouraging and uplifting these guys have been and it is going to be bittersweet to see them off this Friday.

So yea, short and sweet that pretty much describes my last month and a half. Obviously there are a lot more details, funny stories, and heart breaking moments, but I will save those for when I get home to share. If details are your thing and you really want to read more about what all goes on in a single day rather than my sparknotes version of the month you can follow the American team's blog at http://edembe.tumblr.com/. A different team member(s) updates the blog daily and shares how God has been moving in their lives, the team's lives, and the street boys' lives. Thanks so much for the continual love, support, and prayers and Happy belated New Year's from Uganda!