We here a CCJinja have gotten to be kindred spirits with the apostle Paul. He was a tentmaker(TM)but we are tent putter uppers(TPU's). Everytime there is a celebration or a Christian holiday the TPU's leap into action. This week it is Goeffrey Bagalya's graduation party. 500 guests anticipated.
Just to acquaint you with what is considered a tent here in Jinja, it is pretty much any canvas or plastic piece that is attached to a pole. The TM takes pride in his craftsmanship making seams straight and corners square, sides the same length and the like. However the TPU's take pride in getting the most dilapidated piece of swiss cheese-like cloth up into place on whatever straight piece of lumber, steel, bamboo, pipe or pole is available. Anybody can set up a ten foot by ten foot canopy that comes with all parts included plus directions but there is a real talent to get in place a forty by fifty foot patchwork piece of reinforced plastic that last saw square in 1999 and has more holes in it than the Titanic. And then a twenty by one hundred foot piece right along side. In less than three hours. That's what the TPU team here at Calvary does.
Each of us has our area of expertise.
JB Toolit-"BaBa" the big man Expert at finding anything a TPU might need to use.
Martin Onen-"three fingered Metz"-layout man. Maps location of poles expert digger.
Moro Steven-"knotty Steve" Ties off rope faster than a calf roper at a rodeo.
Ssemanda Joseph-"little Joe"-the man with the plan, big ideas in a 5'3" body.
Jacob Opio-"Opie"-troubleshooter- always in the wrong spot at the right time.
Faisal Kigongo-"Thumper"-specializes in tamping the poles into position.
Mulehdu Rogers-"Mule" Nothing is too heavy for him to lift or hold over his head.
Isaac from Moyo-"Izzy"-He does it all "Izzy for real?"
John Muyeyero-"Big John" The man who keeps them all laughing.
Davis-"Tall"- reaches those difficult high spots and never uses a ladder.
Jesse Rich-the "Yesman" Leadership frontman. "Yes fine" "Yes whatever" "Yes..."
The tents were put up during the heat of the day. Incentive to get it done fast. Now the night comes and the Tpu's rest peacefully knowing that their work is done for the day. They dream, perhaps of meters of new tarps and people basking in the shade of their skillful work. Both of which they will likely never see. Because you can't get good tarps here and no matter how hot it is here people will still stand in the sun. But the comraderie of the TPU's lives on. For tomorrow it all has to come down in 15 minutes.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
A Graduate, a Mzungu in a Gomesi and me
This was a special week for us. Thursday, Geoffrey, one of the young men we have helped support for many years graduated from Makerere University with a Bachelors of Business Computing. He already has a job and is also running for the local counselor position. He is a great young man. And we are very happy for him.
We left Jinja at 4:15 am to beat the Kampala traffic and I admit we might have arrived a bit too early as we were at campus by 5:45am. Just a tad bit early but at least there were plenty of places to park. It was a fun day despite the program running 2 hours late. I was impressed by the reading of all the 3,696 names of the graduates. East African names can be very tricky to pronounce and we were impressed by some of the Deans and their speed. One Dean of business had to read 936 names. That’s akin to reading the names in 1 Chronicles 1-9 like ten times. Fortunately the Dean for Geoffrey wasn’t that good so he had to take a breath before he said our boy’s name so it was read nice and slow. This gave Bev and I ample time to stand up and cheer. Which was different since literally we were the only bazungu in a crowd of 11,000 people. But then the fun started. People noticed Bev!
People here expect the Bazungu to dress western as I did in my suit and tie. But Bev was decked out in her best Gomesi (the traditional dress of Uganda). She looked fabulous or “very smart” as they say here. To say that Bev was well received is an understatement. Dozens of people stopped her and said how good she looked. Even two of the Deans in the Chancellor’s procession stopped and pointed at her and gave her two thumbs up. Then when we went to lunch people in the surrounding offices stopped work and would come out to see this incredible white woman in a gomesi. Now I know what it must have been like for Joe Dimaggio when he was married to Marilyn Monroe. Except he could hit a curve ball and I can’t (but then neither could Marilyn)(let’s just end the comparison there shall we). Even Geoffrey was proud of his mzungu mom. The film crew for UBC came up and filmed Bev as well. My Sweetie.
This just confirms my local name as Mr. Beverly. (pronounced beaverly) Since Bev usually makes travel arrangements for us, which is considered man’s work here, when a receptionist sees “booked by Beverly” they just assume that is me so I must be and I am, Mr. Beverly. And darn proud of it too! (now, if Bev could just hit a curve ball or even a slider we would really be on to something)
Two of our other kids here, Peace and Kizza, received their primary leaving exam scores and both earned a division one. So proud papa JB threw a small party for them. Barbeque chicken, carrot cake and sodas. Your traditional african foods. So life here is good and I hope yours there is as well.
Thank you Jesus for good kids, an even better wife and Joe Dimaggio being able to handle a curve ball.
We left Jinja at 4:15 am to beat the Kampala traffic and I admit we might have arrived a bit too early as we were at campus by 5:45am. Just a tad bit early but at least there were plenty of places to park. It was a fun day despite the program running 2 hours late. I was impressed by the reading of all the 3,696 names of the graduates. East African names can be very tricky to pronounce and we were impressed by some of the Deans and their speed. One Dean of business had to read 936 names. That’s akin to reading the names in 1 Chronicles 1-9 like ten times. Fortunately the Dean for Geoffrey wasn’t that good so he had to take a breath before he said our boy’s name so it was read nice and slow. This gave Bev and I ample time to stand up and cheer. Which was different since literally we were the only bazungu in a crowd of 11,000 people. But then the fun started. People noticed Bev!
People here expect the Bazungu to dress western as I did in my suit and tie. But Bev was decked out in her best Gomesi (the traditional dress of Uganda). She looked fabulous or “very smart” as they say here. To say that Bev was well received is an understatement. Dozens of people stopped her and said how good she looked. Even two of the Deans in the Chancellor’s procession stopped and pointed at her and gave her two thumbs up. Then when we went to lunch people in the surrounding offices stopped work and would come out to see this incredible white woman in a gomesi. Now I know what it must have been like for Joe Dimaggio when he was married to Marilyn Monroe. Except he could hit a curve ball and I can’t (but then neither could Marilyn)(let’s just end the comparison there shall we). Even Geoffrey was proud of his mzungu mom. The film crew for UBC came up and filmed Bev as well. My Sweetie.
This just confirms my local name as Mr. Beverly. (pronounced beaverly) Since Bev usually makes travel arrangements for us, which is considered man’s work here, when a receptionist sees “booked by Beverly” they just assume that is me so I must be and I am, Mr. Beverly. And darn proud of it too! (now, if Bev could just hit a curve ball or even a slider we would really be on to something)
Two of our other kids here, Peace and Kizza, received their primary leaving exam scores and both earned a division one. So proud papa JB threw a small party for them. Barbeque chicken, carrot cake and sodas. Your traditional african foods. So life here is good and I hope yours there is as well.
Thank you Jesus for good kids, an even better wife and Joe Dimaggio being able to handle a curve ball.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
To Entebbe And Back (in slow motion)
Saturday Bev and I went to Entebbe to pick up our dear friend Jo. It was an uneventful ride to the guest house. Unlike our last trip to Kampala...
That trip had started well enough and finished well but there was one part that was a little frightening. As we passed Kitigoma and were cruising through the cane field, I pulled out into the passing lane to overtake a petrol lorry. No worries as he was doing 60 kph and we were doing 80 kpm. About one fourth of the way around him this 55foot long tanker decides to pull into my lane to overtake another lorry. It was just at this point that a pickup appears, coming fast from the other direction. Now we have a problem. Three lanes, two tanker lorries, a pickup truck and us. Plus a pothole! I instantly think, "This is the stuff Ugandan headlines are made of."
Have you ever noticed in periods of extreme danger how time seems to slow down? This was just one of those times.
The pothole was small by local standards (under 6 feet wide and less than 12 inches deep) but the pickup did not want to straddle it so he slides into my lane. This is making life in the fast lane very tight. My only option was to gun the engine since slowing down would have caused us to be ground into the pavement by the first lorry's rear wheels. As the gap narrows time slows even more. I see Otim's face contort into an expression of alarm. I hear Bev let out a little gasp. And I watch the darkness come as the space ahead begins to close up. I stay as close to the lorry as humanly possibly. Our passenger door mirror begins to fold inward from the fender of the lorry pushing against it. I can't bear to watch the impact with the pickup so I watch the tanker. Otim is clawing his way into my seat. Bev is trying to scream but nothing comes out. All sound is gone. Nothing but the pounding of our hearts as disaster looms on the horizon. The pickup is right next to me. I cannot see where my vehicle ends and his begins. I don't dare look at the driver as that might cause us to move over and used up the three microns of gap between us.Then it is over. We are past the lorry, the pickup has gone by and the daylight has returned. The topic of discussion quickly turns to the love and grace of God. Amen! He has let us keep our lives and our mirrors.
This trip to Entebbe was slow and uneventful; however the trip home was interesting.
As I was the designated driver(not because of teatotaling reasons but because I'm not invited into the conversation of two women who haven't seen each other in months) I settled into a comfortable contemplative position behind the wheel.
It is a common opinion in these parts that I don't listen to people. Not true! I listen, I just don't hear so well. As I listened to Bev and Jo's conversation about news from home I was saddened to hear that my friend Keith B. had sung two songs and had gotten chapped lips. Apparently the weather didn't agree with him and the songs were long as he had eight chapped lips! Sounds painful.
I also learned our friend Denny who works in Namulanda has apparently decided to take up agriculture as he is now back in New Mexico living in a farming town and had brought in Ed's corn well. But the good news was dampened since the tomato harvest (tomas in spanish) had some problems, or quirks as Jo called them.
Then came the most exciting part of the trip. We stopped to shop at a supermarket in Kampala. The Shoprite/Game complex is always an adventure and it didn't disappoint this time. I got to save a life.
As we crossed the parking lot which, is made of interlocking paver stones, two young women, one carrying a child, were approaching us. I saw the one with the child stop and look down at her foot. It was stuck. Her high heel had sunk into the gap between two stones and she couldn't pull it free. Being the gallant man that my mom taught me to be I asked if she needed help. It was just then that a car came around the corner.
Time seemed to slow again. As the vehicle approached I bent down and attempted to remove the shoe from the crack. The woman began trying to wriggle out of her shoe but couldn't get her foot free. I glanced up to see the station wagon still bearing down on us. I told Jo to save herself and pushed her out of the way. Then I tugged at the woman's foot. No good! Finally I wedged my fingers under the heel of the shoe and lifted straight up. FREE! By now I could only see the grill of the car. The woman leaped to safety one way and I went the other. Jo stood by amazed!
I told Jo how time had seemed to slow and enable me to get the woman free. She looked at me incredulously. "What are you talking about?" she said. "That car was twenty yards away and was only moving three miles an hour!" Then she started to say something about the next time I pushed her I'd be pushing up daisies but I didn't wait to hear the rest. I had to go tell my wife! I knew she'd be impressed.
PS It turns out Keith B. is in Tucson with eight chaplains, Denny is in Farmington and had spoken to Ed Cornwell and Thomas Quirk. Somehow I like my version of the trip better! And is it any wonder why I don't listen?
That trip had started well enough and finished well but there was one part that was a little frightening. As we passed Kitigoma and were cruising through the cane field, I pulled out into the passing lane to overtake a petrol lorry. No worries as he was doing 60 kph and we were doing 80 kpm. About one fourth of the way around him this 55foot long tanker decides to pull into my lane to overtake another lorry. It was just at this point that a pickup appears, coming fast from the other direction. Now we have a problem. Three lanes, two tanker lorries, a pickup truck and us. Plus a pothole! I instantly think, "This is the stuff Ugandan headlines are made of."
Have you ever noticed in periods of extreme danger how time seems to slow down? This was just one of those times.
The pothole was small by local standards (under 6 feet wide and less than 12 inches deep) but the pickup did not want to straddle it so he slides into my lane. This is making life in the fast lane very tight. My only option was to gun the engine since slowing down would have caused us to be ground into the pavement by the first lorry's rear wheels. As the gap narrows time slows even more. I see Otim's face contort into an expression of alarm. I hear Bev let out a little gasp. And I watch the darkness come as the space ahead begins to close up. I stay as close to the lorry as humanly possibly. Our passenger door mirror begins to fold inward from the fender of the lorry pushing against it. I can't bear to watch the impact with the pickup so I watch the tanker. Otim is clawing his way into my seat. Bev is trying to scream but nothing comes out. All sound is gone. Nothing but the pounding of our hearts as disaster looms on the horizon. The pickup is right next to me. I cannot see where my vehicle ends and his begins. I don't dare look at the driver as that might cause us to move over and used up the three microns of gap between us.Then it is over. We are past the lorry, the pickup has gone by and the daylight has returned. The topic of discussion quickly turns to the love and grace of God. Amen! He has let us keep our lives and our mirrors.
This trip to Entebbe was slow and uneventful; however the trip home was interesting.
As I was the designated driver(not because of teatotaling reasons but because I'm not invited into the conversation of two women who haven't seen each other in months) I settled into a comfortable contemplative position behind the wheel.
It is a common opinion in these parts that I don't listen to people. Not true! I listen, I just don't hear so well. As I listened to Bev and Jo's conversation about news from home I was saddened to hear that my friend Keith B. had sung two songs and had gotten chapped lips. Apparently the weather didn't agree with him and the songs were long as he had eight chapped lips! Sounds painful.
I also learned our friend Denny who works in Namulanda has apparently decided to take up agriculture as he is now back in New Mexico living in a farming town and had brought in Ed's corn well. But the good news was dampened since the tomato harvest (tomas in spanish) had some problems, or quirks as Jo called them.
Then came the most exciting part of the trip. We stopped to shop at a supermarket in Kampala. The Shoprite/Game complex is always an adventure and it didn't disappoint this time. I got to save a life.
As we crossed the parking lot which, is made of interlocking paver stones, two young women, one carrying a child, were approaching us. I saw the one with the child stop and look down at her foot. It was stuck. Her high heel had sunk into the gap between two stones and she couldn't pull it free. Being the gallant man that my mom taught me to be I asked if she needed help. It was just then that a car came around the corner.
Time seemed to slow again. As the vehicle approached I bent down and attempted to remove the shoe from the crack. The woman began trying to wriggle out of her shoe but couldn't get her foot free. I glanced up to see the station wagon still bearing down on us. I told Jo to save herself and pushed her out of the way. Then I tugged at the woman's foot. No good! Finally I wedged my fingers under the heel of the shoe and lifted straight up. FREE! By now I could only see the grill of the car. The woman leaped to safety one way and I went the other. Jo stood by amazed!
I told Jo how time had seemed to slow and enable me to get the woman free. She looked at me incredulously. "What are you talking about?" she said. "That car was twenty yards away and was only moving three miles an hour!" Then she started to say something about the next time I pushed her I'd be pushing up daisies but I didn't wait to hear the rest. I had to go tell my wife! I knew she'd be impressed.
PS It turns out Keith B. is in Tucson with eight chaplains, Denny is in Farmington and had spoken to Ed Cornwell and Thomas Quirk. Somehow I like my version of the trip better! And is it any wonder why I don't listen?
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Special People
As I write this I am listening to the music and commotion next door. It not a disco or political rally. It is the Youth Conference for our church.
The noise is from all the games plus volleyball tournament that are being contested. But I like to remind myself that the biggest sound is the laughter. Young people having fun, enjoying fellowship.
It is not all just games. They have come to worship Jesus and study the book of Nehemiah. They are here to work. Just as Nehemiah challenged the people to build a wall to establish themselves as a nation, these youth have been challenged to build a youth group and establish themselves as a ministry dedicated to God. I pray they take up the challenge.
This is a great bunch of kids and if they follow through it will have a huge impact on the town of Jinja. These kids are special people.
It has also been great to watch Kelli put it all together. She looks at every detail to make sure the conference goes well. She cares deeply for all these youths and wants to see Jesus securely on His throne in each life. She is a special person.
Jacob, Joseph, Tall (Davis), Little John, Eddie, Patrick, Andy, Anna, Loyce & Neema (the Harmony Sisters), and others who I don't even know their names are all giving three days to see Jesus alter the lives of this group of kids. Really special people.
Meanwhile my sweetie, Beverly, teaches the women's bible study and covers for everyone else helping at the conference. A truly special person to me.
Me? What am I doing? I've got the easiest job today. I just get to teach these all these folks about working together. But after all the love, prayer and support poured out on these kids by all those special people, I think they have it under control already.
Special people seem to live that way.
Now to get ready for the Pastor's Conference here on the 24th-26th. Got to go find more special people.
The noise is from all the games plus volleyball tournament that are being contested. But I like to remind myself that the biggest sound is the laughter. Young people having fun, enjoying fellowship.
It is not all just games. They have come to worship Jesus and study the book of Nehemiah. They are here to work. Just as Nehemiah challenged the people to build a wall to establish themselves as a nation, these youth have been challenged to build a youth group and establish themselves as a ministry dedicated to God. I pray they take up the challenge.
This is a great bunch of kids and if they follow through it will have a huge impact on the town of Jinja. These kids are special people.
It has also been great to watch Kelli put it all together. She looks at every detail to make sure the conference goes well. She cares deeply for all these youths and wants to see Jesus securely on His throne in each life. She is a special person.
Jacob, Joseph, Tall (Davis), Little John, Eddie, Patrick, Andy, Anna, Loyce & Neema (the Harmony Sisters), and others who I don't even know their names are all giving three days to see Jesus alter the lives of this group of kids. Really special people.
Meanwhile my sweetie, Beverly, teaches the women's bible study and covers for everyone else helping at the conference. A truly special person to me.
Me? What am I doing? I've got the easiest job today. I just get to teach these all these folks about working together. But after all the love, prayer and support poured out on these kids by all those special people, I think they have it under control already.
Special people seem to live that way.
Now to get ready for the Pastor's Conference here on the 24th-26th. Got to go find more special people.
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