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Africa Adieu

I’m standing at the airport steps remembering just 5 months before when I stood in the exact same spot. I don’t even recognize the girl who stood there five months ago, she’s gone and I’m much more fond of the girl who is replacing her. I remember how scared I was of the future, how uncertain I felt about everything in life, how dependent I was on superficial things. Now all I feel is sadness. Sadness because I’m leaving home to go ‘home’.

I thought it was just that I was going to miss E but as I helped with a local feeding program the other day I realized there is way more to it than that. I love this country. I love the people. I love the children. I love the way the clouds form in the sky in a breathtaking way. I love the way the rain comes unexpectedly, reminding you that nothing ever turns out like you think it will here. I love the way I feel when my entire day is wrapped up in other people’s needs, not my own. I love how close I feel to God here.

I’m in America now eating foods and seeing people I’ve missed. I savor Krispy Kreme doughnuts and hug my baby siblings tight and as I’m doing it all I realize it’s not enough. I love my family and friends and Krispy Kreme but not enough to keep me from missing Uganda. I feel like I’m in autopilot these past few days. I can do things correctly, like drive on the right side of the road and put dishes in the dishwasher, but it all feels strange as my body takes over and does them perfectly. ‘Normal’ things aren’t normal. My home isn’t my home anymore.

My mind has compartmentalized Uganda and America- putting each experience and skill in its own section and now it has opened the America drawer and everything comes flooding back. Except my heart is still in Uganda and this country seems strange. I feel out of place and not completely here. Like i’m in a foggy dream and tomorrow I’ll wake up to Esther’s cry and the sound of chickens outside my window.

Can a person fully function if their body and heart have been separated? Will I ever be truly happy in America or will I just count down the days until I can return to Uganda?
Well let’s just put that all in the Uganda shelf for a while so that I can turn autopilot back on and try and function normally in this strange country. I want to thank every person out there who supported me in this trip, as you can tell from reading my blog saying this trip was life-changing in not an understatement. Everyone who wrote me e-mails, commented on my blog posts, and prayed for me- you kept me going when things were tough and I am so grateful.

I am looking into and planning a trip back next summer- if I can raise the money. If you are interested in supporting me please let me know.

Africa isn’t done with me yet- and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jinja Journey

Since my time in Kampala I have taken a trip to Jinja every two weeks to visit baby Esther and my friends there. Each time I have taken Ugandan public transportation and it has been an adventure each time.


The first step is walking down the hill from where i'm staying in Kampala and getting on a taxi to take me to the taxi park. I jamn into one of these things with about 18 Ugandans for about 15 minutes and pay 50 cents to get to the taxi park.






When arriving at the taxi park I make my way through the cars, bikes, motorcycles, and vendors and try to find the coasters leaving for Jinja. I ignore the cries of "Mzungu!" "Are you married?" and "How are you? How is Obama?" until I get to a coaster. Then I bargain the price (It should only cost 2 USD but they try to make me pay more because i'm white) and squish in next to about 30 other Ugandans. Then we wait until the coaster fills up before leaving. As we wait vendors come to the windows and try to get us to buy food, clothing, drinks, soap, you name it. I usually end up closing my window because my white face attracts them like ants to sugar. Here is the taxi park:


Then we're off and the breeze makes through the windows makes the heat bearable and the scenary is beautiful. It takes about 2 hours if traffic is good to make it Jinja. There is about a 50% chance of sitting next to a talker but if you do even pretending to sleep won't get them to be quiet and by the end of the trip you will have told them every detail of American life.

When arriving in Jinja I hope on a boda and pay 50 cents to get it to take me to the place where i'm staying.


The first time I did this successfully by myself was the proudest I have ever been of myself. Hands down.

Uganda Update

So I know it has been a while since I have updated this blog, and part of my excuse is that I haven’t had internet for the last week. So I am in serious need of a boring blog post that simply updates you on all that has been happening with me. Sorry it won’t be very creative.
I left Amani Baby Cottage 4 weeks ago and started volunteering at Loving Hearts Babies Home in Kampala. I traded 60 kids for 14, Jinja for Kampala, and tons of volunteer buddies for an empty room. The empty room was nice for about 24 hours and then I got crazy lonely. Kampala is a lot harder to get around then Jinja and more expensive so I was pretty much stuck at the baby’s home by myself. So I was dealing with missing Jinja and baby E and I had nothing to distract myself from thinking about that all day every day. Yah it sucked. BUT God used that time to really speak to me about the role I was to play in baby E’s life and how he wants to use the last 5 months to guide my future plans. He is a great and awesome God who is always faithful and if there is one thing I have learned this trip it is that God gives us the desires of our hearts, the only catch is he gives us the desires to begin with. Mixed in with God’s desires are our own fleshly desires which we, in our ignorance, believe to be the greatest and so we waste countless hours on our knees begging God to grant them to us. And then one day he grants us the desires of our hearts, the desires HE gave us not our own, and we realize they were greater all along. God knows what is best for us and it is nearly comical how much time we waste and pain we put ourselves through trying to accomplish what we think is best for ourselves or the people we are trying to serve. God knows how many hairs are on our heads. I think it might be a good idea if I trusted him to decide what was best for me, instead of trying to figure it out for myself.

So it was in the midst of God teaching me all of this that I adjusted to me life in Kampala. I made friends with the Ugandans I worked with, loved on the babies here, ate A LOT of matoke, and ‘spoiled my English’. Loving Hearts is different than Amani in that the kids are younger, there are less of them, and they are all adoptable. Serving here is different but just as rewarding. I love the toddler boys here (1 ½ to 2 years) especially these adorable twin boys we have and am excited to learn about the adoptions that are in the works. I am praying the twins gets adopted by an American living close to DC : )

On Sunday Monique arrived bringing not just company but also Oreos, Mac and Cheese, and Chocolate Chips! I am in heaven! I love how much joy good food can bring you here. There is so much more joy to be found in life if you get that excited over an Oreo. It has been lots of fun having Monique here. It certainly is strange seeing someone from home in this environment, but I’ve loved showing her around Kampala and Jinja and introducing her to all the kids who have stolen my heart.

I am in utter shock as I write this but I am reaching my 3 week mark. 3 more weeks in Uganda. Where on earth did the last 5 months go? This place has changed me more than I ever imagined. It has stolen my heart, invaded my mind, and ignited a passion in me I don’t think will ever die. Above all else I am SO grateful to My God for giving me such an amazing experience, for being by my side when things got tough, for answering my cries when I had so many questions I thought my brain would explode, for teaching me to trust him completely, for letting me serve some of his precious children, for creating friendships with some incredible people, and for being ever faithful both now and forever more.

Pray for me. I don’t know how I’m going to force myself on that plane in three weeks.

Our Man Moses

A few months ago when I first arrived here I wrote a blog entry on Moses- a little boy here with AIDS. If you don't remember read it again http://meganinjinja.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-wish-i-could-tell-you-his-name.html. A month ago Moses was transferred to Our Own Home- an orphanage here in Jinja for HIV+ children. He is able to receive more advanced healthcare there with people that are trained in how to care for positive children.

Read our Our Own Home's recent newsletter for updates on how he is doing and to learn about their recent fundraising goals. They are a great organization that is doing amazing things for kids here.

http://www.africaourownhome.org/resources/Our+Own+Home+letter+0410.pdf

Going to Gulu

I am sitting on a porch with the most spectacular view. I can see Lake Victoria in the distance and hills speckled with the orange roofs of houses. Below me I can hear babies crying as they wake up to the morning and workers as they begin their day. I slept last night for the first time in several days and I feel so refreshed, so at peace, and so thankful to be safe.

I thought this blog post would be chock full of fun stories about our amazing time in Gulu and details about the incredible time we had. Things did not go at all as we thought.

We took a taxi from Jinja to Kampala where I dropped my luggage off at Loving Hearts Baby Home (the orphanage I will be volunteering at next) and then we had the taxi take us to the Kampala Bus Park. Imagine the worst traffic jam you have ever been in- the area around the Kampala Bus Park is 10 times worse. You look out one window and there is a car so close to you that you could barely fit two fingers in between. Then you look out the other window and find the same situation. You look in front of you and see a boda dart in front of you- you would have to slam on your breaks except that you are barely moving. Pedestrians don’t have the right of way here so people stand on the side of the road, see a opening in traffic and then just run for it. It’s like playing dodge ball except with cars and instead of getting ‘out’ you die. Our taxi driver can’t get to the bus park because the traffic is too jammed so he suggests we take a boda. After seeing several bodas come within inches of getting run over by cars in the last 5 minutes we opt for walking. He tells us to go straight down the hill. We get out with our backpacks and start wading through the pedestrian traffic- it’s like trying to get out of the Verizon center after Beyonce performs. We walk for some ways ignoring the marriage proposals and shouts of Mzungu until we hit a street. A street we have to somehow cross and come out alive on the other side. We just look at each other and go “oh crap.” With lots of prayer and running we make it across and walk some more until we decide we’re lost and ask for directions. A man offers to take us to the bus park himself and leads us back across that same street (more running and praying) and finally takes us to the bus where we tip him and get on the bus in relief.
The five hour bus ride is uneventful except for a Ugandan man falling asleep on Kelsey’s lap and the excitement of street vendors running up to your window with water and snacks every time you stop. We arrive in Gulu safely and get to the place we are staying with no complications.

African drive-thru

Then the fun stops.

The moment we stepped off the bus in Gulu we felt uneasy. We both felt such a peace and joy when we arrived in Jinja and didn’t really expect to feel differently in Gulu. We had both read so much about the north and done our own advocating to end the war back in the states. We were thrilled about the opportunity to visit the place that our prayers and efforts had gone to the last couple years. We did not expect to feel like this at all. The people we were staying with were so kind and welcoming, which made it even weirder to us that we felt so miserable. We went to sleep that night and both woke up several times in the night frightened and restless. The next day we went into town and felt like we did not belong here. We just wrote it off as just not being used to the city yet, but felt it was strange that we never felt like that in JInja. The next evening was even worse. We woke up to hear a strange scratching noise and I tried to convince Kelsey and myself it was a mouse but it continued through the night and we both woke up 3 or 4 times after that and just laid in our beds terrified.

Me with one of the girls at the house we were staying

The next day was Sunday and we went to three different churches because the woman we were staying with insisted on introducing us to church after church. Each church was a lot wilder then we were used to and we were forced to introduce ourselves at each one. This of course added to our feelings of being uncomfortable so that by the time we returned back to the house we were miserable. We went into our rooms and spent the next two hours reading our bible, listening to worship music, and praying. At the end of the two hours we looked at each other and said “we have got to get out of here.” We wanted to leave right there and then but there were no buses that left at night so we spent another night. The third night was just as bad. There were no strange noises but we both still woke up for no reason terrified. That morning we packed our things, visited one last place, and then went to the bus park.

I am not really into demons or spiritual attacks. I believe demons exist and spiritual attacks happen, but I myself have never had any experiences with either of them. I have never felt that spiritually worn down before or that certain that I had to leave a place. Kelsey felt exactly the same way. It was weird and hard for me to explain here. All I know is that I have never felt more relieved than when that bus pulled out of Gulu and onto the road to Kampala. I am so thankful to our God for protecting us and remaining ever faithful to never leave us nor forsake us.

The bus took twice as long on the way back and we arrived in Kampala at around 9:00 at night. All we wanted was our beds and we both dreaded the idea of finding a taxi and then successfully finding Loving Hearts Baby Home (where we were spending the night). This was Africa so we knew tons of things could go wrong so we prayed that everything would go smoothly. We like to think God played a little joke on us because when we stepped off the bus we were greeted by about ten men yelling “taxi taxi! Mzungu taxi!” they were so close to the entrance to the bus that there was barely room for my two feet to step down. We pulled out from the group (they followed) and started negotiating the price. They then proceeded to start fighting right in front of each other- pushing each other away from us so they could talk to us. If I was in America a few months ago I would have freaked out, but instead Kelsey and I just looked at each other and laughed hysterically. We told one guy to get us his taxi and then jumped inside. We successfully found our way to the home with no complication and settled into a beautiful night’s sleep.

Now I sit on the porch looking at Lake Victoria with a breeze tickling my skin. I look down and see the bug bites that speckle my legs and feel the roughness of my dress that was dried in the sun. My shower this morning might not have gotten all the shampoo out of my hair, my legs may itch, my clothes might not really be clean, I might be hot, my stomach might be a little off, but downstairs are beautiful babies waiting to be hugged and kissed and in front of me is a slice of God’s beauty displayed for me to see, and beside me is my God holding my right hand and always watching out for me.

View from my room in Kampala

Village Visit

We went to visit one of the mamas- Santa- at her home today. As always things that should be simple always turn into an adventure in Africa. We had her address written down and went to the boda drivers and gave it to them. They said they knew where they were going but we had our doubts. We all piled onto four bodas and started out. We went about a mile when two of the bodas stop and instruct us to switch bodas- we have no idea why. Then one of the bodas won’t start so we have to wait for another one. So when we finally get started we’ve already separated into two groups and about 20 minutes later with four stops to ask for directions my group arrives. Mama Santa (like Santa Claus she tells everyone with a grin) welcomes us and offers us food. We finish it and still the other group isn’t there. Then another mama that works at Amani- Mama Judy- shows up and wants to show us her home so we go with her. She takes us off the road into an open field and asks “are you good at jumping?” before leading us in jumping over about 4 streams before we get to her home. The Ugandan watching thought three white girls jumping over streams was the funniest thing they had ever seen. When we got to her home with got to meet her daughter and mother and her mom prayed over one of the volunteers that was leaving next week. Then we went back to Mama Santa’s. The other group still isn’t there. This is about the point where we look at each other nervously and think “um… if they don’t show up what are we going to do?” But about 5 minutes later they show up with a long story of getting very lost.

Mama Santa’s children then do a little performance for us which was very cute. It is a tad bit embarrassing out here though when four year olds can dance better then you. After they sang us a few songs we took some pictures and said our goodbyes. We decided to walk home which took about an hour and a half and was super fun. I felt a bit like a rock star since every village you pass all the kids come running out screaming “Mzungu how are you!!!!!!!!!!!” at the top of their lungs. You pull a Ms. America and smile and wave at each one as you walk by.

The beauty of Uganda- both its people and it landscape- still catches my breath each day. Every day my worldview and previously held beliefs are challenged. Every day I experience a new adventure. Every day I thank God he is giving me this opportunity. Every day I look forward to the next.