All weekend (Thursday through Saturday) we stood in awe of God as we went on safari. Absolutely wonderful! Charlie didn't get eaten by a lion (in fact we didn't see a lion). If anyone is interested in viewing over 400 pictures of hippos, water buffalo, giraffes, and elephants- please see me when I get home! I'd be happy to bore you to death.
Back to Kampala the poverty struck me anew after the sparkling wonder of creation, the tragedy in eyes and the faces that gaze intently through our windows. Part of me jumps for the perfect photo opportunity with such dynamic subjects. I'll get my camera out, but can never quite bring myself to snap a picture and hurt their dignity. The emotions are too raw, too deep. I feel rude, pushy, and guilty so put my camera down. Over and over I go through this cycle passing up photo ops:
- A man, drenched in sweat, mowing with a machete
- A little girl pouting by the door of a canvas shack, surrounded by heaps of bananas
- A man on a bike, pedaling a shiny silver milk can up a mountain
- Immaculate furniture being constructed in a tin shanty
- Stacks of fabric piled high on a teen's head
- boys pumping water from a rusted pump into hundreds of yellow jugs
- A glorious mosque beside squalor
- five people astride a boda boda
- abject poverty: row upon row of shacks, too shabby for even that title, with forlorn faces staring through the shadows.
These are the images burned on my memory, captured in my heart, and forgotten by my camera.
Part of my reading today:
From Ecclesiastes 5:1a and 7b Guard your steps when you go to the house of God. Go near to listen. Therefore stand in awe of God.
Today we stood in awe of God in the village of Zirobwe. An entire day of worship and praise to God. Despite the poverty everywhere and the serious eyes in the faces of children, I stood in awe of God today. His power in these children's life, and their full belief in His power to provide and keep them overcomes me. "Go near to listen." These children and people have more to teach me than I can teach them. I will listen and learn. Yes, in the village with unschooled children there is a language barrier. However, the situation, expressions, gestures, dance, and song served as communication enough.
I met my name buddy- Tabitha! She's adorable, eleven, and can't speak much English. Nevertheless she attached to my side for the day and will probably do so again when we visit the village. So sweet! After a moving worship with the children, we fed them. One half of a chipati (like a thicker taco shell) and a fourth cup of pineapple juice for each child. These children bowed their thanks, grateful for so little. One girl with malaria stumbled, unable to even carry this to a place where she could eat it. She was smiling.
Janna and I finally got to play our ukuleles! After two songs, curious fingers pulled them into a throng of children. For the next hour so many hands plucked those strings!
On the way out of the village our van, which has carried us to many far places through crazy roads, got stuck! Completely mired down, the van stayed put for over an hour while the whole village congregated to get it out. I played with children while the men puzzled over the swampy mess. When they finally had it about free (by placing palm fronds under the wheels) my group of girls began chanting, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!" as the van pulled free of the mud. These children know who to ask, and where to give the credit.
p.s. While at the village I did take pictures, as a Ugandan villager snapped photos of us!
Thanks for the update. Can relate to what you're going through, moreso from Cambodia than Mexico. The video was great! I'll be glad to look at the animal pics when you get back. ;-)
ReplyDeleteI also expect to hear a ukelele solo when I get back. Anxious to hear how the ministry goes these next weeks!
uncle Tim