The end

OK, well I'm leaving a flight in 4 hours to take me to the Provo MTC where I will wait anxiously for a visa.

Being set apart was powerful. The stake president's family had us over for a big dinner and then we had a mini fireside with just his family and ours. We had an interview and he set me apart, giving me one of the most intense blessings I have ever felt. He talked about focusing on families and realizing that my own would be safe back at home. It was the peaceful, calming sort of spiritual that really comforts you when you are excited/scared.

Anyway, I'll miss my family. I got to spend a lot of time with them today playing basketball, tennis, and lifting some weights. Then we had a stellar FHE at 11:30 pm and everyone hit the sack.

I'll miss the people here. Period. They have taught me so much about being humble and selfless. They have taught me about the things that matter most in life, none of which are money. I really really think I'm coming back.

So that's the end of this blog. Thanks for following my struggles to consistently post. Before I close this blog, I think it's fitting to end with a short testimony, the very reason I will be spending 2 years laboring in Brazil.

I know that we have a Heavenly Father who loves us completely and unconditionally. His love is never out of reach, no matter how unworthy we may feel. The priesthood is on the earth today, giving each of us access to heaven's power. With that, I know that we have a living prophet, Thomas S Monson. He is the mouthpiece for revelation in our day. The Book of Mormon has the ability to change lives; it has changed mine. The Holy Ghost is real. His whisperings are a source of guidance in a loud and confusing world. I testify that Christ is our Redeemer. He paid the ultimate price so that each of us could live eternally. He lived without sin and loved without restraint. Of this I know and testify, in the name of our Savior, Jesus Christ, amen.

April 20th

So my parents were talking to some senior missionaries who had been serving in Congo and recently started a mission in Kampala with the welfare program. They said the part of Congo they were in was similar to Uganda geographically and culturally, with marked differences in the way they crossed financial barriers. The Congolese they met were able to solve their own problems and extremely self-reliant. The Uganda's, on the other hand, mostly just expected you to solve their issues for them. Cause of this discrepancy? They thought it was the effect of all of the Ugandan NGO's compared to the near absence of humanitarian aid in Congo. Now, I'm not saying that humanitarian aid is completely at fault for Uganda's problems, but isn't it interesting? All of these people involved in foreign aid, patting themselves on the back and getting warm fuzzies while HURTING millions of people in Africa. OK, sure some person somewhere got a water tank and someone else got free education. What about the thousands of life's guaranteed trials that those people are going to face the rest of their lives? Pretty soon "How can I help me," turns into "Who can I find to help me?"

Anyway, that was my next General Conference question.

Although I'll have to look over some notes, off the top of my head I can think a few lessons General conference taught me on these issues.

How about the "Do vs. Be" talk? That answered my question about Mzungu/Ugandan marriages. If you want people to become better, search for a principle they should change, rather than harp on their behavior. In other words, I am going to encourage the YSA rep (my buddy) to teach a lesson on righteous motives. You should love people because they are people, not because they could potentially solve a lifetime of financial problems. After all there is no "strings attached" to the love Christ has shown to each of us. I've also realized that my mom is in a better position to confront this problem at a one on one level because of the respect the Buganda have for people older than them. I also think that this issue is a great opportunity for the ward to show some self reliance as a whole. People know it's a problem, it just needs to be confronted. (I remember one talk about the love necessary to confront a relationship problem, I'll have to review that one) It might be better if I encourage YSA reps to work that out themselves, instead of trying to take everything under my jurisdiction.

About humanitarian aid: I'm still confused. I'm going to spend a lot more time studying that one out, probably for the rest of my life. However, I really loved a quote by Eyering, talked about the importance of working together to solve problems and the unity that develops from such an approach. I also loved when he said that service should lift all who are involved to greater heights (permanently, not just a temporary fix). The funny thing listening to my dad talk about this and then talking to Ugandans. Their views could be any more different.

I currently believe any humanitarian effort needs to be focused on either education or health, and most preferably the first one. What is desperately needed is an NGO to have career planning for 12-14 year olds. Ugandan have to choose their field of study by age 16, and many choose to shy away from science because it is too difficult. Guess where all the jobs are? In science.

I would love to see more Ugandan teenagers taught the whole "line apon line" principle of financial growth. These guys want to graduate and find a white collar job, without dabbling in the tedious/shameful work of farming. What you do is start by planting on an elderly family members land, promising to give him/her some of the profit. You save tirelessly to buy 10 chickens. Every 3-5 months your chickens reproduce and soon you can sell offspring to buy a few goats. Following the same procedure, you save to buy two cows. Selling their full grown calves, you are now able to buy a motorcycle, which you can then rent out for $4 a day. If all goes well with that, you could have 2 motorcyles in 6 months, doubling every 6 months thereafter. Then you can progress to buying cars and soon you own a business that is employing those same college grads desperately searching for jobs, paying them a fraction of your income. At that point you can live a life of luxury and even attend university if you get bored.

OR

You scrape together 3 million shillings ($1,250) for the cheapest secondary school and 8 million on an average university ($3,500), spend hours studying, successfully graduate, and then spend the next 5 years of your life in search of a solid job.

Dang that's a hard decision.

The problem is that when the British came they needed secretaries and assistants who knew English. People couldn't pay for school so the Brits decided to fund the university education of the best and the brightest. It was a huge honor to attend university with a secure job waiting for you on your graduation day. So when England pulled out, it's education system stayed, minus the subsidized fees/guaranteed job part. So you have a generation of Ugandans who hear the word "university" and immediately think prestige. That generation is the one dumping money into the exorbitant university fees of today's 20 year olds. They are the ones teaching their kids that if you get accepted to a university, continuing your education is a no brainer. And they are the people heaping praise on university graduates, while marginalizing the bricklayer or the farmer.

After talking about all of these problems with Andrew, I asked him what he was going to do after his mission. "I'm going to be a lawyer," he confidently replied.

I guess I never realized the America's extensive career counseling, which for me started when I was only 12.

So my mother and I were walking down to pay the electricity bill in town when we turned a corner to find crowds of people. The local police had imprisoned a popular Member of Parliament because she had participated in the transportation strike, walking to work. Andrew, who was walking with us, suddenly told us to go home. As we speed walked home we heard gun shots and stories of tear gas, looking down at the main road as people were sprinting away from the riot. You better believe my mom was scared. Our family is extremely blessed to live in a safe environment, away from threats of political stability. UCU campus would be one of the last places for a riot, and for that our family is extremely grateful.

Ok, I need to jet. Busy day tomorrow, with an even more busier weekend.

April 13th

Life's been great! I'm planning on going to stay a week (or a little less) at the clinic next week. Mostly it's going to be me walking around the villages telling them about the clinic. Apparently when they see that a white guy is working there, more come. I'm organizing a soccer clinic/tournament for little kids next week as well.

I'm reading this book of Baganda proverbs. You see so much of their culture in their sayings. Unfortunately I can't find the book right now, but when I do, I'll have to start posting some of the more culturally revealing proverbs.

One theme that kept popping up was the importance of sharing your money/resources with your family and friends. It's pretty much the law of consecration without the church being involved. Problem? The people can't invest in anything because they will always have some relative or buddy ask to borrow money. I brought this up when Andrew (our gardener/wardie) told us that he had paid to put a concrete floor in his grandma's house because she was getting bit by bugs at night. What happens if investing that money would have helped re-floor 10 houses later on? He was belligerent. His grandma needed help, so he would help her. So is that bad? With that attitude he will never be rich (as I said before, the relatives will always be asking for money), but does that matter? He could help more people... I don't know.

Then I was talking to him about possible entrepreneurial ideas, specifically selling jackfruit. He told me that you can't sell jackfruit. It was a gift from God and it should be shared not sold. You would never hear something like that in America.

I went "digging" at a less-actives house yesterday (digging means planting/weeding). The soil here is so fertile! It makes you disgusted that people are poor. It seems like they have so much opportunity right at their fingertips. Land is left unused everywhere.

It's crazy how much some people in the ward want to marry whites. You marry a white and you are financially set for the rest of your life with a huge probability of going to greener pastures in America. What they don't realize is the crazy cultural differences that will strain any marriage. Ugandan men marry Mzungu women and expect them to cook/clean/wash/raise kids by themselves because that's what they saw their parents do. As I've probably already alluded too, Ugandans are anything but emotional lovey-dovey, a huge difference between our cultures. And that's the tip of the iceberg. How would you expect the man to provide with such little education (a bachelors if your lucky)? It would be so hard to have a Ugandan-American marriage, and these guys don't realize it. Unfortunately, Baganda culture teaches that marriage really isn't about the relationship. I've been offered way too many girls I didn't know for a wife to dispute that one.

Mom: "I think I'm losing weight. It's gotta be the Ugandan food."
Ugandan: "Oh no, you're not losing weight. You look fine!"

Yep, Ugandans are attracted to fat women. The heavier American girls that come over with NGO's suddenly have every man they see hitting on them. Coming from America, that's a huge shock. So they get married. Suddenly the family of the Ugandan boy rises from poverty to become relatively wealthy. The couple moves to the US but come to visit for a couple months every 2 years. Soon every person who knew that family is committed to marry a westerner. Then you get these girls trying desperately to date white people. "I'm only marrying a white," they say. Pretty soon all of the Ugandan boys are intimidated (they could never offer the same financial security of a Mzungu) and they shy away. Only problem is that Ugandan girls NEVER marry white men. The guys are supposed to make the move in Baganda, so these girls wait and wait and end up not getting married for way too long. I feel like the thought of "if I get married to this Ugandan, what will happen if the next week an American comes that would have married me?" is always hanging out in the back of the ward members minds.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to hate on anyone that marries inter-racially, I'm just wishing that people here would foresee some problems before they set their hearts on a white woman or man.

So that's a definitely question that I'm hoping will be answered in general conference this week end.

Next time I'm going to talk about my other question for general conference...

April 7th

Oh man did I get humbled running with the XC team yesterday. They did top ten most brutal workouts I have ever experienced. I was hobbling afterward.

After running I logged some time working on a website and ate lots of Ugandan food at the on-campus restaurant. Then Andrew (man who is heading on a local mission in about a month) and I split the elders. A few minutes after leaving the church it started pouring rain, so we stopped in a house. Talk about a captive audience. One problem, no one knew English, including my companion. Since we didn't really want keep walking in the rain, I tried to teach in Luganda. It was pretty bad. "God loves us. We can love people like God loves us. God wants us to choose the right. This is a true book (pointing to the book of mormon). You will be happy if you act like Christ..." Nothing flowed. Anyway, let's just say I was happy when the rain stopped and my companion said we could go.

That evening we had a meeting focusing on the retention of the Mukono ward. We generated some awesome ideas. Instead of splitting into pairs, we are going to do "inactive blitz" where we find inactives in groups of 6+. After stopping by, we will invite them to come, visiting more inactives. We also thought that we should have the bishop write a letter to each inactive member so that we can deliver them personally. They are thinking that the bishops leadership position will have more sway than ordinary "laymen." (a testament to the value placed on leadership positions in Ugandan culture) If the members aren't home, we leave the note, making us unstoppable. Then we are going to have ward activities focused on reactivation. Instead of eating food at the church (the extent of a normal activity), we are going to take that food to the less actives. I'm really excited to see how these ideas turn out.

Today my mother and I spent the day at a clinic in Kyambogo, a tiny village in the middle of no where. The nurses, two of them from Utah, saw patients and tested for HIV. The women showed up en masse, all decked out in traditional dresses and head wraps. Out of the 86 tested, 11 were positive. Three of those were kids. Because of the remote nature of this area, ARV's (anti-retrovirals) aren't really available, meaning a HIV+ reading is no beuno. Anyway, Mom and I talked to the patients as they waited to be seen. I got to do triage and vitals for a long time. I'm really really hoping I could spend a week working at this clinic... It would be so much fun.

I love getting out to the villages! It is so relaxing. No zooming cars, no loud speakers, no crowded streets, just a lot of tranquility. The people so so chill. I'm guessing the average wait time for the clinic was 4 hours today. You just catch up with friends and meet new ones, no one seems to be in a rush. I keep thinking of that billboard on I-15 for Mountainstar with the current average ER waiting time. Not sure that advertising would be effective here.

I'm still trying to get used to the fact that every one breast feeds publicly, sometimes starting mid-conversation. One lady opened her dress up to show me massive oil burns all over her chest. I'm guessing that 20 people were in eyesight.

Ok, kind of a shallow post. I'll have to save more deep reflection for next time.

April 5th

Ok back to gossip.

Guy in the ward was one of the first 30 baptisms in Uganda, way back in 1994. Strong member serving in leadership positions since joining the church, holding up to seven callings at one time. This man even knows the piano, one of the 4 Ugandan saints that share that ability. He hasn't been to church in almost a year.

What happened? Pretend this is you. A conversation you had at church with the bishop hinted at the slightest condescension. You ponder, does he think he's better than me with that calling of his? It gets under your skin and stays there. Pondering this question it suddenly becomes easier to find more of his faults. Soon you have compiled a whole arsenal grievances committed by this person, which you then feel the urge to share. People side with you as you recount the bishop's many faults and spread them, with the slightest embellishment, to the next ward member they meet. Soon the ward is circulating malicious half truths and slowly apostatizing.

That was a huge exaggeration of what our ward is currently facing. Ironically, the home teaching message for March was "looking for the good," the perfect antidote for this problem. I'm of the belief that this lesson should be named as the home teaching lesson of Uganda for the year 2011. The funny thing is that I have home taught on both sides of the fence, seeing first hand the negative talk that has been circulating and its less-than-uplifting consequences. We could all try harder to "assume the good, doubt the bad," as President Monson puts it. In the often used words of my mother, "if you look for the bad in someone, you will usually find it." And yet the converse is true. Even when hidden by the most questionable appearance, there is something in everyone for you to admire. I have found that encouraging these attributes is the way to motivate change. I feel like this church will explode when our Ugandan members implement this lesson.

And yet there is so much hope! I see it in the ward members who dutifully show up every Friday to clean their meetinghouse. It can be seen in the people who faithfully pay their widow's mite in tithing. It's found in the simple testimonies that shine in the faces of these people. And ultimately it's seen in the example of our Savior, Jesus Christ. The one so perfect that He was able to look past each of our faults, sacrificing so we could eventually overcome them. That is a hope to rely on.

April 3rd

I'm back! Sorry for my long blog apostasy. So much to catch up on and so little time tonight.

We went on the family trip to the game park. To be honest, I'm not a huge fan. Zoos are way more efficient and a whole lot cheaper. The facilities are all geared toward rich tourists who pay an arm and a leg to take pictures of animals whose photos are already on the internet. My dislike of safari's aside, we had a lot of fun as a family.

First we went for some chimp tracking. Normally you pay lots of money to go through the government, but we just paid some guy who knew about a forest with chimps. Obviously, stealth is vital in chimp tracking, something our family of seven struggled with. The whole time the chimps were howling to warn each other about our location. The rainforest echoed with their calls. Way cool. Finally we got a good look at one of them, staring him/her in the face for something like 8 minutes. Although that probably would have satisfied our family, that wasn't good enough for our tour guide. He said he needed to find 3+ together to call it a day. Realizing that that just wasn't going to happen with all seven of us, him and I set off into the woods, leaving the rest of my family behind. Suddenly we hear "Ahhhh! Get them off of me! Run, run, run." Unmistakably my mom. After "tracking" them, we found them in mud being attacked by ants. That was the end of chimp tracking!

Field and fields of Indian owned sugarcane, filled with lowly Ugandan workers. And in the middle of it all, a processing factory. A powerful testament to the type of exploitation that permeates Uganda. This investment in high tech machinery has undoubtedly paid sizable dividends to the Indian share holder, leaving the local almost exactly where he started, and in many ways, worse off. With nearly every piece of land producing sugarcane, you either leave the land of your ancestors or you submit to the low wages of the company. Where you used to be able to work hard farming what ever you wanted, now you are stuck at a fixed wage doing a work that will probably never change in your life time. Hoping to move up the corporate ladder? Better give up. Unless your daddy has a big name or was Indian, you're probably out of luck. And then managers complain that their workers are being lazy.

The power of money in 3rd world nations amazes me. These people have resources coming out of their ears but can't export any of it. The villager can produce kilo's of bananas more than his family needs, but will always sell them for dirt cheap to people who have the same access to bananas. Then comes the question: If all of my hard work is providing me so little in return, why work? That question pops up again when you realize that Uganda is a country practically living the law of consecration. You have more that other people, you share. The success of this law is held back by selfishness, just as it was in early church history. However, instead of seeing a people unwilling to share, you find a people depending on others to share. By choosing not to work and progress financially, you are selfishly cheating the system.

Uganda has oil but, as rumor has it, will probably end up paying Italian engineering firms a huge share (up to 40%) of their profit to extract it. Why not buy the machinery and train workers themselves? They don't have money. People find out you are funding the construction of some far off oil rig while their kids are dying of malaria and you'll no doubt lose political support (Again we return to unwillingness to delay gratification, a huge problem in Ugandan).

Enough of Uganda's problems, and back to my life. After chimp tracking we went to the park and saw lots of giraffes, gazelles, warthogs, baboons, elephants, water buffalo, water buck, etc. We got stuck behind an elephant that was chilling in the middle of the road. Dad got impatient and tried to sneak up and pass it. The bull turned to face us, flailed his ears and threw up his trunk. We thought we were finished. Anyway, it didn't charge and we got out safely. There was also this massive waterfall where the whole Nile river hurtles through a gap of 20 feet. And that's about all from the trip.

I've connected with a nurse from Utah who will be doing HIV stuff on Thursday. I'm going to help with triage and some testing. I'm going to do the same with another organization next week. SO excited.

Gossip is a huge problem in this area... my next post will have to focus on that one. I need to hit the sack.

Our house

March 22nd

I've started to run with the UCU team and am regretting not running with them earlier. They are fast! One guy is sub 4 minute mile. So pretty much I run with the girls and still get owned. I should be running some meets soon, which will be hilarious. Apparently when a white man runs everyone expects them to be last so they cheer for him/her out of pity. The guys are a hoot! They complain through all of the work out and then, when they hear they are almost done, they run like they haven't been pushed at all. They pray after each run, holding hands in a circle. It's sad that I'm falling in love with running only to drop it in a month.

So I was talking to my dad about North Korea's "unprovoked" shelling of that South Korean island. He corrected me. Apparently when you look at Chinese newspapers (in English) they say that North Korea had sent a manifesto to the world saying that they would not tolerate other nations entering their waters, and would treat such as an invasion. Turns out American missiles landed in their boundaries and they held true to their promise. Moral of the story: read both sides of the argument before forming a conclusion.

Recently I've been applying this with Libya, reading an Arab newspaper named Al Jezeera. It's so interesting! Reading it suddenly makes the conflict extremely complex, bringing up so many new arguments than you get from CNN/FOX/NBC.

My video/website is hobbling along. I'm finding that I was not made to work on a computer. My stamina is straight-up embarrassing.

Great news! Ugandan elders usually serve as local missionaries for the months that they would be waiting for their visas. I might get to do that! How awesome is that. I would serve for a few months (with a tag and everything) until I got my visa for Brazil, and then go to Sao Paulo. I'm definitely banking on this option.

Other than that, life is same old, same old. Our fam is heading to Murchison Falls today for a 3 day safari. Personally, I like the deficiency zoos, but since your in Africa apparently you need to go on one. Should have some fun stories from that soon!

March 18th

I have been thinking about writing "advice" letters to each of my siblings before I head for Brazil/USA. You know, personal advice on what to stay away from and what to cling on too. Suddenly it hit me. The example I set in the next month a week will be way more influential than anything I could write in a letter. In a way, my actions are my advice letter. As I was thinking about what I would advise my siblings on if I wrote the letters, I realized that each of the weaknesses I would have harped on could be found in me, the perfect example of "casting out the beam in your own eye..." or of "he who hath no sin, let him cast the first stone..." in the NT. I think that's fascinating. It's so easy to get sidetracked perfecting others, without working towards perfection ourselves. I feel like if you are striving to be better, your example is your most powerful tool in helping others come unto Christ.

I had an EPIC day today. Our family went to the kids' school in Kampala for an international day. The festivities commenced with a parade of nations similar to that of the Olympics. The kids were decked out in traditional clothing from their homeland with plenty of face paint and flags. Then the students went around visiting tents that offered food, arts/crafts, sports, and decorations from each continent. Dad, Mom, and I volunteered in the America's tent, which, as you can imagine, was by far the most boring tent. Volunteering was so cool! After seeing these kids put on a display of the love they each had (or their parents had) for their countries, it was so interesting seeing them play and interact with each other afterward. You had Jews, Muslims, Christians, Hindus, and even a Sikh playing games together happily. I am convinced that if every kid in the world had the opportunity to attend a school like the one where my siblings are currently studying, world peace wouldn't just be a possibility, it would be all but guaranteed. Behind all of the different shades of skin and body builds, all of the variance in world languages and customs, all of the contrasting religious beliefs, we are all the same: sons and daughters of a Heavenly Father who loves us completely and individually. Oh my gosh that is beautiful.

And yet, inside this paradise of blended ethnicity were the signs of racial injustice. A maintenance worker was quick to inform me of his monthly wage: less than 6 bucks, without meals. The successful, money-loving Indian who owns the school is known for such abuse of jobless Ugandans. And I'm sure you can guess the nationality all of the high end administrators. Indian.

Talking to that maintenance worker was quite frustrating. I told him he had the potential to be rich. He told me it was impossible. After outlining a few ways he could increase his capital with no help from me, I realized his response was always the same: "you don't understand, I just need a 20,000 shillings to get started." Although I completely agree that I don't understand what he is facing, I do understand what studies have shown about giving out 20,000 shillings "to get started." Friends have urgent medical bills, widowed family members have mouths to feed, money gets stolen, and soon that man is right back where he started. I know that there is a way to work your way out of poverty. A few days ago I watched a man cut up a jackfruit that he probably bought for around 30 cents in the village and sell the 20ish pieces for 16 cents each in town. In other words that guy made 1066% profit on walking his jackfruit 12 kilometers. I've watched a lady from the church raise a few chicks and their offspring on and on until she has built up a small-scale chicken farm.

The more I look for ways to fight poverty, the more I realize that it is so much more than a severe lack of money. It's a way of life. A way of life that has become ingrained and perpetuated from generation to generation. When the Perpetual Education Fund holds meetings pleading for it's loans to be used wisely, they are fighting against years of habituation to this "poverty culture." The same goes for NGO's across the globe.

Now I'm not trying to sound like all 3rd world nations are doomed to eternal impoverishment, because they are not. It was not very long ago that the whole of this world was what we now call third-world, but look where we are today. Countries like Brazil have jumped out poverty to lead worldwide economics. Even within Uganda you hear inspiring success stories of individuals who break out of generational poverty to achieve financial stability. There is a way for Ugandans to become self-sufficient; I have seen it. I'm simply saying that this process is an uphill battle.

On a lighter note here are some humorous stories:

We are employing a wardie who is trying to pay for his mission visa so he can turn in his papers. We have plenty of work to do cleaning up the small garden/banana orchard on our property, a place that was the landfill of the previous owners. Anyway this guy was telling me that he was reading 3rd Nephi 8ish all about the natural disasters faced by the Nephites when, terrified, he felt his bed shake back and forth. Turns out Mukono had a 5.6 earthquake that morning.

I was reading C.S. Lewis when a lady told me I should come donate blood. Interested, I went to check out their set up. They had a tent in the middle of the university commons with 3 beds, a desk, and some chairs. The nurse in charge would yell "jangu jangu (come, come)" to passers by and then, without asking if they wanted to donate, she would start the screening process. After customary greetings, she asked if they felt well and when they last had malaria (had to be malaria free for more than a month), she tested iron levels, and soon they were on a bed giving blood. Sometimes she would ask if they had ever donated before, but that was the extent of the procedure. No privacy shields, awkward questions, blood pressure, or signatures. Two questions, a few drops of blood, and you were ready to go.

Our family doesn't have a keyboard, so one day I thought I would try playing in the Anglican chapel on campus. As I walked in I heard a low rumbling noise. Thinking there was either a small riot or an idling tractor outside the window, I sat down at the piano. The noise was the groaning from two girls who were grasping each other in obvious agony, rocking back and forth. Trying hard to ignore their interesting behavior, I starting playing "Be Still My Soul." All of the sudden I hear, "Wakukuadkukduaku" at a high shriek coming from the girls next to me. I jumped. I had no idea what was happening. There was no way that that was a language. A little bit intimidated I left the chapel. Turns out that was my first face to face encounter with people speaking in tongues. It is weird! And what is weirder is how common it is. Without looking for them, I've seen about six congregations who seem to talk nearly exclusively in tongues ON CAMPUS! What? This is an Anglican school. I need to get an Anglicans view on speaking in tongues, cause I'm pretty sure they would think it was weird.

Man I am absolutely digging the language, if you haven't caught that drift from previous posts. I've pretty much given up with their grammar, but love how simple everything else is. The word for flying is the same as jumping, surgery is the same as cleaning, white blood cell is the same as soldier, to study/learn is the same as reading, hear is the same as taste... the list goes on and on. My favorite word is "kale." I never thought four letters could mean so much. Here's my translation: "you're welcome" or "yes/ok" or "It's been fun talking, but I'm ready to go. Goodbye." (they never use the actual word for goodbye). I have a friend who is learning a language from the north east which is comprised almost entirely of 3 letter words with an average of 5 completely unrelated meanings.

Really excited about the the less actives work we are doing. This ward is about to get a lot bigger baby!

March 16th

It's funny. You come to a third world nation and people want to make use of your technical skills; you end up spending lots of time on a computer.

Our family is doing swell. The kids are adjusting to their international school. Cariel took a tally, counting the number of swear words she heard her first day of school. It was something like 200 more than she would have liked it. Liza made a heroic stand against a teacher showing a sketchy movie. However, Mckay is digging his Thursday schedule: art, cooking, swimming, and a club. The US government is paying 25 grand (sorry for the tax money everybody!) for our family to attend this school for 4 months, so you better believe the kids there are extremely rich. However it's amazingly diverse. Sixty different nations represented in a high school of about that many students. I'm excited to volunteer there on Monday because apparently the campus is absolutely breath-taking.

Yesterday we had a farewell party for Douglas Kagame, who is heading to serve as a local missionary in Iganga. Here the church has people who are waiting on passports/visas serve in the Kampala mission. We made our attempt at Ugandan food, which was pretty successful. Mom was pretty skeptical of the meat we bought on the side of the road, but the wardies assured it was safe. Anyway, the guy shared his powerful testimony of the gospel. We sang some God Be With You Till We Meet Again. The sad thing was that for me that won't be for a while. Anyway, I was ready to hit Brazil right then and there. That visa...

I have loved C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity. I love the way he weaves analogies into deep theology. It reminds me an old book on teaching by Packer I read recently. That's what I want to master! Teaching with analogies. One time I was teaching this girl with the missionaries and I told her than many pure and simply truths in the Bible were lost through it's many translations. I tried to explain that it was like pure water which is contaminated by the views of others. Let's just say that didn't go over well.

One quote I liked from the book:
"You cannot make men good by the law: and without good men you cannot have a good society."

I have been playing a lot of tennis lately and have officially decided it's a great sport. The university has two packed sand courts that make for some interesting bounces every once in a while. My dad's going down tomorrow.

My mom wants the computer right now so I'm closing this semi-pointless post. Lots to look forward too! Brazi here I come!

March 11th (continued)

I love Ugandan food! They eat sweet potatoes, maatoke (plantains served like mashed potatoes), posho (ground maize with water), rice, and beans. It is dirt cheap and amazingly filling. I think it's around forty cents for more than most Bazungu can eat. Unfortunately, I need to order two plates to become satisfied, straining our family finances an extra forty cents. Interestingly enough, I am the only Mzungu I have met to like the food. It is a little bit tasteless.

Today I ate at a friend's house. They didn't have forks (most people don't) we used our hands. I ignorantly dived in with both hands, thinking that it would be more efficient. The guy sitting next to me was quick to correct me. You only use your right hand for reasons I would will not delve into.

R's and L's sound exactly the same in Ugandan English. One guy was asking me questions about American food:
"Do you fly your chickens?"
"Nope our chickens don't fly."
"No no no. Do you fly your chickens. Like in oil."

You think that's funny, listen to this:

As you can imagine, the port you use to reach Buvuma doesn't have piers, so men carry passengers 30ish feet out to the boat. You pay these guys 9 cents to keep you and your belongings dry. Since jobs are scarce, many many people try to make a living off this occupation. This leads to people fighting over customers. Needless to say I had no idea about this procedure. As we came to the waters edge I was making small talk with someone when all of the sudden I felt something hard bang repeatedly against the back of my thighs. I looked down to see a guy trying to get me on his shoulders. You better believe that was awkward.

There are some amazing Christians here on campus. One man I admire has this avid love of learning. The walls of his home are completely covered with bookshelves, and by the way he talks you know he puts them to good use. You feel like you are absorbing intelligence whenever you are within 5 feet of him. Coolest part? He's a humble, God fearing man who values his wife and his two kids. Very inspiring. I am also falling in love with our Anglican neighbors. They are the ultimate examples of how to have a strong family. They love their children know how to influence them without negativity. Christ is the center of their home. It's amazing how many beliefs we share. We talked religion for a while and didn't find any disagreements.

Hey so it turns out I'm probably not going to get to shadow an OBGYN. The lady is super busy and wants me to edit a movie for her. I'm slightly devastated. I'm currently hoping I can convince my dad to let me help with VCT programs (testing for HIV). He thinks the risk of accidentally sticking myself is too high. Anyway, I just wish it was easier to get into more clinical service here as a Medical Assistant.

To Patricia:

At home my Mom has been rotating pasta, pizza, and powdered soup. Our family is still adjusting to not having a dishwasher, something that makes chores a lot harder. My mom doesn't have the crutch of frozen foods so she has been spending a lot of time cooking.

Women breastfeed openly. You should have seen Liza's face when a family friend started breastfeeding her son in the middle of a conversation on our couch. Apparently HIV has a 25% transmission rate through breast milk if the mother isn't on the antivirals. However, from what I have seen people can't afford to not breastfeed, so formula isn't an option.

As for me, culture shock really wasn't an issue when I came in August. I think Mckay struggled a little with kids staring at his white skin and being a little more outgoing than he is naturally. Now he is doing fine. As for the rest of the family, I thought their transition this trip went quite smooth. Cariel has had some problems with wardies hitting on her (who are in their mid 20's). Sometimes I think my mom is a little bit loud for the culture, but to be quite honest everyone loves her. People come and talk to her for hours in our living room.

We regularly have monkeys in both our front and backyard. Usually they are the red-tailed ones that are a little bigger than squirrels, but every once in a while we get columbus monkeys (spelling?), who are probably comparable to a medium-sized dog. It is so much fun to sit on our porch and watch them leap between the trees. Squirrels, lizards, and our neighbors chickens show up as well.

PEF is definitely in Uganda, however it definitely has it's fair share of problems. The PEF missionary couple is struggling to get people to pay back their loans and use the money they get for their education. Once you have money, there is an ingrained sense of duty to help everyone else in your neighborhood. Rest assured though, the church is working extremely hard to make the program successful. I don't know about the rest of the world, but here PEF loans are only given to active RM's. Unfortunately, I heard a guy in our ward try to convince an investigator that if he joined the church and served a full-time mission he would get his university tuition paid in full. I'm going to have to talk to that guy tomorrow, cause that's a really bad way to get people to church. I personally love the entrepreneurial brainstorming classes they hold every week. Uganda definitely needs more of that. In the words of a friend, "Uganda is a country full of job seekers, with few job creators."

On ways to support. Using snail mail is unreliable and slow. We are thinking about sending a 20x8 ft. box filled with meds in the summer but are still working that one out. If that falls through and you still want to donate, I have found a few NGO's that I trust. I have a strong belief that the LDS church teaches a lot if not all of the skills necessary to rise out of poverty, so supporting/praying for missionaries is great as well.

March 11th

I just returned from a trip to the Buvuma islands in Lake Victoria. What an experience. It was like traveling back 100 years to an undeveloped Uganda.

The problem with these islands is that they are hard to reach and even harder to move around when you get there. The director told me that more than 70% of the money spent on the trip was used on gas for the motorcycles we used to travel around the spread out villages (gas is a little more than $6 a gallon here). Due to the high cost of transportation, the only humanitarian organization operating on these islands pulled out in 2007, leaving Buvuma in bad shape. ADUA is looking to fill this void. They are hoping to use my video to raise money.

Studies have shown that the Buvuma HIV rate is almost 30% higher than Uganda's mainland. The fishermen take long fishing trips and then celebrate their safe return with lots of drinking and prostitution. If someone scars their reputation by accusing them as HIV+, the fishermen simply move to a different village. The villages are mobile, searching for the fishing hot spots around the coast. Because of this, they don't invest in their villages, leaving malaria-ridden swamps undrained and latrines unbuilt. Nowadays illegal fishing (using nets with small wholes) and a high birth rate has nearly exhausted the lake. This is forcing people towards farming, an economy that has slowed to a near standstill due to the current drought. "What about irrigation?" I asked. "That's too much work," was the response. It seems like the fishing attitude has stuck with people as they have switched over to farming.

From what I saw, you could count on a few hands the number of houses with power (all government or catholic funded buildings) and I'm pretty sure there was no running water on the island. I am proud to say I took my first shower out of a bucket. I also watched our host family pick out a chicken for us to eat that night.

Teaching was a blast! We would hold village meetings teaching about AIDS, malaria, nutrition, and sanitation. The people were thirsty for knowledge. One old guy got up after our presentation to thank us. He said that never in his life someone come to teach in his village (I'm guessing he was 50). After one of our meetings, a man asked us: "So I've always wondered how fast AIDS travels through the air. Can you answer that?" Yeah it was bad. They don't have VCT so people don't even know their HIV status.

I had a super spiritual experience at our last stop teaching a catholic elementary school. I had been teaching malaria the whole trip, but suddenly felt like I needed to teach these kids about personal goals. I have no doubt that inspiration was God sent. That lesson was powerful. I probably learned more than anyone. I told them the future of their island rested on their goals and ambitions. I definitely felt the spirit strongly.

I have learned a lot about humanitarian aid. I would like to compare successful HA to the parable of the talents found in the 25th chapter of Matthew. The master in this story gave and then followed up with rewards to those who utilized his gifts. I have found that many NGO's throw money at people and forget to follow up. Evidence of this is everywhere. One school we visited had two buildings with leaky roofs. Instead of repairing them, they found it easier to get funding for a whole new building. You better believe I was disgusted.

You also need to make sure that people are making sacrifices for your help. This forces them to take ownership. I would love to see more NGO's focus on teaching creative entrepreneurial skills rather than the amount of money or services they dole out. One campaign slogan that was sounded by many canidates in the recent elections was "Better service delivery." What does that mean? You'll get more free stuff if you vote for me. Yeah it's not good at all.

It was frustrating how slow the people are. In America we probably could have accomplished 3x as much work. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner each takes an hour. Each town had to give us a long winded welcome and were slow to organize. One day one of our social workers felt tired so we went home 3 hours early. It just makes you want to make your own NGO.

A hardcore feminist would have probably died seeing the way the women greet men on the islands. Whenever a man walks past they kneel down and wait to be acknowledged while looking at the ground. Even the little girls (three or four) follow this tradition.

I wish I could have filmed the way the islanders greeted! It was almost comical! They would usually shake right hands while using their left hand to hold their right elbow as a sign of respect. Then a hardcore Q/A session would commence, with the just about same questions and answers used everytime. Responses to questions would start nearly before the person asking finished talking. People talked in high-pitched mumble, almost whispering. They mumbled so quietly for a while I had no idea what they were saying. The whole time both people avoid eye contact. The following dialogue is almost the same for every the meeting between two men (in Luganda of course):

"How are you, sir"
"I'm fine, sir"
"How did you sleep, sir"
"I was fine, sir"
"How is your food sir"
"I am fine, sir. How are you, sir"
"I am fine, sir."
"How did you sleep, sir?"
"I was fine, sir."
"Good for you, sir"
"Also good for you sir. OK sir"
"Ok"
"(slow high pitched sigh)"
"(slow high pitched sigh)"
"(slow high pitched sigh)"
...

The sighs at the end were hilarious! They would go on and on until someone thought of some substantial thing to talk about.

And that's only a fraction of what I need to write about this last week. Get back to this soon.

March 8th

I have decided that we don't fully acknowledge how blessed we are to live in America. I think the media tries to convince us that our politicians have failed and that our country is in shambles. I wish I could take one of these cynical broadcasters to Uganda for a month. America is free from the widespread corruption that is currently crippling Uganda. America has a constitution that makes an oppressive dictatorship an impossibility. America has a dynamic social hierarchy, meaning that, by in large, there is hope for all to become what they want to be. America has an education system that values critical thinking, rather than wrote memorization. America seems to be perpetually devoid of internal violence. And most impressively, America is actively striving to give these same advantages to the rest of the world, expecting nothing in return.

You hear people complaining about the lack of jobs in the states, try coming here. If you do a post-doc in America in just about anything, you're job is pretty much secured. Here, nothing guarantees anything. You hear people whining about Medicare/Medicaid. I'll admit, these programs need reform, think about them compared to most of the world. What happens when you have nothing and contract cerebral malaria (extremely fatal)? What happens when you're 55 and all of your children have died, leaving you unable to support yourself? Of course friends will probably be there for you, but what happens when you don't even have any of those? In both instances, an early death is just about inevitable.

Guys, I love America. Here the word America means so much more than being filthy rich; it is synonymous with hope. We may never realize how truly magnificent our nation has become. So next time someone pessimistically alludes to the future of our nation, do me a favor and set them straight. America has a future just as bright as it's past, and that's saying something.

So now you are probably wondering what inspired this patriotic rant. Today our family went to some parental support meetings in the villages. During the meetings I looked around the room into the faces of mainly single mothers in attendance. Their faces told the story of a people suffering things I, or any other American for that manner, would probably never understand.

Hey I'm really sorry if you think this blog is turning into an emotionally driven sob story. I'm kinda recording everything I'm feeling, and no doubt that makes for a taxing read.

As I already said, I am ecstatic for the trip to the islands and am excited to see some more of this country. Thanks for your support!
-Eric Reuben Smith

March 6th

So my sister was in a young women's lesson today about the importance of hobbies. The teacher asked everyone their hobbies and then invited them to teach them to the rest of the class. One visitor from America said she liked horse back riding. They don't have horses in Uganda. "Well maybe you can teach us to ride goats or pigs," replied the teacher.

You know that unique feeling you get when you are camping and cooking food over open fires? That's every meal for most Ugandan's. Anyway, that was how I felt at our Young Single Adults social yesterday. We started a fire in the back of the church and cooked food for something like 4 hours. Then we played a girls vs. boys basketball game (so foreign to Ugandan culture). Good times.

I've finally noticed that people are extremely careful about keeping their clothes clean. I wanted to arm wrestle this guy on the ground, but he didn't want to lay down. Reason: everything is washed by hand and from what I hear doesn't last as long.

I had a remarkable talk with a buddy named Keith. We chatted on our porch for a while. The awesome thing was that there was tons of silence and it wasn't awkward. We just kinda sat there looking at monkeys jump around our front yard and thought.

Mom thinks I may get to shadow a OBGYN that lives close by. Luckily Uganda doesn't have the same restrictions that America has and I would definitely get to see multiple births. Sounds awesome! She told me about some lady she ran into that was denied access to a hospital because she couldn't pay the 2 bucks to be admitted. She was dilated to a 10. Anyway, I'm really hoping I could shadow that lady.

I need to start thinking up more I can write about; life is extremely slow. Mostly I just read mission prep/novels and hang out with the family. However, my next post should be a little more action packed as I am going on two trips in the next 3 days to villages.

March 1st

I tried washing baptismal clothes by hand on Monday. Andrew was laughing at my attempt. Needless to say, washing machines mean a lot more now. From what I hear, I will be doing that every week in Brazil. Bring it on!

Today I had a little PMG study group with Douglas and Andrew, who are both leaving for missions this month. We studied "humility" under the Christ-like attributes chapter. They taught me so much! These guys have mastered humility and their thoughts on it were inspirational.

I think it's interesting that people from different cultures face completely different trials, and subsequently have different collective strengths. While America as a whole may struggle getting caught up in climbing the social latter, many Africans have strained relationships with their parents (see last post). It's almost as if God uses cultures to "personalize" our experience here on earth. For instance, if someone was lacking in the humility department, one might be sent to a developed nation, where pride would surround him/her. For example, I heard one slightly humorous story:

One American we know was talking with some mothers from a village in Tanzania. One mom asked, "In your country, how do you keep your kids from spending your church offerings on sweets when you ask them to take them to the bishop." The American responded that in her homeland kids went everywhere with their parents. The Tanzanian with 7 kids responded, "That must be so stressful. I'm so sorry." She went on to say that her children would walk the three hours to visit their grandparents on a few minutes notice and come home three to four days later. I guess not knowing where your kids for half a week isn't stressful.

So I've been praying a lot about this trip I was thinking about making to these islands in Lake Victoria. It would be three days with a long boat ride there teaching Malaria/AIDS/nutrition/sanitation/filming a fund-raising video. Today I felt completely at peace with the idea so I am planning on going. We are thinking maybe March 9th.

Uganda is making me pro-affirmative action. My dad has done his fair share of car shopping and said that every dealership he visited was Indian owned. From what I hear, people from India operate all of Uganda's business sector. Of course successful Indians surround themselves with people who share their language and culture, perpetuating the division. So you have a distinct hierarchy: whites, Indians, blacks.

Anyway, life is going great. I'm officially treating the next week and a half as a vacation to spend some more time with my family before they start international school.

School

Feb 24th

Went home teaching today. It took 4 hours and we only taught 2 people. People are so spread out and hard to contact.

So I've been thinking about AIDS a lot lately. I have decided that one reason AIDS is running rampant in Uganda is the lack of healthy child-parent relationships. Having solid relationships with your kids helps you steer them in the right direction and is specifically vital in sex education. Too many Ugandan parents send their children to boarding school from an early age (six or seven), adhering to the common misconception that children learn better in a family-deprived environment. When I asked one father about his soon-to-be engaged daughter, he said he didn't know that she had a boyfriend. I have had many other experiences akin to this one.

So besides bringing down the deeply ingrained boarding school culture, how do we stop AIDS? Although other African nations strive to emulate Uganda's highly successful anti-AIDS's campaign in the nineties, HIV in Uganda is currently on the rise. Why? Some think it's because kids are seeing people with HIV live long, symptom-free lives on the expensive Anti-retroviral medication (ARV). They say that the widespread use of this drug is changing HIV from an instant death sentence to a "curable" disease. One nurse said she heard kids say, "if I test HIV positive it's not a big deal; I'll just use the medication." Problem: in order to prevent drug-resistant strains, it's vital that you take the drugs for the rest of your life. Oh ya, don't forget that funding for this drug in Uganda is 90% external. So what do you think? Pulling financial support of ARV's forces people, too many times chaste, to suffer a prolonged death, while sustaining it's funding perpetuates complacency. Unfortunately there's no way to differentiate between someone who has, in fear of contracting HIV, been completely chaste (only to become HIV+ via blood) and someone who has lived immorally for years. Right now the use of ARV's is eliminating a consequence that seems necessary for the eradication of AIDS.

I have also wondered about the ABC program used in Uganda's successful campaign 18 years ago. Teaching (in order of importance) "Abstain, Be faithful, Condoms" the country dropped it's HIV+ rate by more than 10 percent. Since then, American NGO's started teaching an A only curriculum and now HIV is on the rise. Cause and effect? The government thinks so. I will be handing out thousands of government funded condoms on my upcoming tour of the islands. Now the question is if I agree with such an approach. It seems to me like supplying condoms is begging people to be immoral, no matter how strong your emphasis on A or B. I would love to hear some comments on this dilemma.

You can add to that question that of how one would elevate Uganda to self-sufficiency. Recently I have had some insight on the matter. I think Uganda has been fed, via media, the western hierarchy of education and needs to accept that vocational training is the key to economic stability here. Holistic economic development starts at the micro level: the employed. People may boast about being accepted into the finest Ugandan university only to watch their vocationally-trained peers exceed them in income and economic security. I am not saying that an Ugandan studying philosophy is sinning, I'm just saying that as a whole this country needs to change it's mindset.

Then again would that really change anything? A diploma guarantees literally nothing, while having the right friends ensures financial stability. On the job training can usually take the place of even the best vocational school. As I expounded on in August, jobs are rewarded to family members and close friends rather than the most qualified. This form of corruption hurts Uganda in two ways: it hinders motivation towards education and fills jobs with the incapable.

So many questions, so few answers.

I thought up the most interesting connection. The incumbent for last weeks elections, beefed up the military presence at the polls in unprecedented fashion. Undoubtedly, Libya and Egypt played a role in this decision, but I have thought of another motivating factor. All of Uganda is crying for jobs. Building up the military does just that. So as people headed to the heavily guarded polls last week, the army served as a subtle reminder to vote for the man in power. Tricky.

By the way, I visited the most destitute school this week. The place had classrooms 11 ft. square teaching 15-20 kids in a room. There were gaping wholes in the walls of the building. The boarding section had 2 kids per mattress at 8 beds per small room. I could tell from the surroundings that the malaria rates were through the roof. So sad! Especially when you realize that these kids could be sponsored to go to a better school for something like $20 a month. I videoed one boy saying he wanted to be a lawyer someday and attend Makerere (the best university in Uganda). No offense to that kid, but he needs a miracle.

On a more joyful note, I am loving teaching piano to the boys in our ward. They are gobbling up my teaching and now want me to teach twice a week. We also found out that the on campus cathedral is left open all day so our family will have lots of opportunities to practice the piano.

I am also reading The Social Contract, by Rousseau and loving it to pieces. Although the effects of the SC (the French Revolution) are less than honorable, I have no doubt the Rousseau was inspired. He has one chapter in which he proves that a government with out God is doomed to failure. The charged emotional aspect of the book (found in it's subtitle, "Man was born free, and he is everywhere in chains.") is intertwined with deep philosophy. It's also interesting finding ways Robespierre deviated from Rousseau. Recommend this to anyone who likes philosophy.

Feb 21st

"I believe the Savior is telling us that unless we lose ourselves in service to others, there is little purpose to our own lives. Those who live only for themselves eventually shrivel up and figuratively lose their lives, while those who lose themselves in service to others grow and flourish—and in effect save their lives."

That quote is so true! I have spent the last three days doing loads of humanitarian/church service and it's amazing how much fulfillment I have felt. Yesterday was one of the happiest days in my life! I taught a ward piano lesson, lined up 7 schools to teach at starting wednesday, planned a trip to visit some impoverished islands in Lake Victoria, talked with a prosthetist, and worked with the elders.

Another reason I had such a great day was the fact that I held a conversation strictly in Luganda for ten minutes. Usually people break into English but this guy's couldn't afford school so he was forced to speak Luganda. I understood just enough words to get what he was saying. That was exhilarating to say in the least!

For a while I was sure that I could bring my family to live or even spend summers here, but now I'm having second thoughts. Without staying on a secure university campus, it would be tricky finding safe accommodation. International schools are expensive and few. "Why not just send your kids to a local school?" I asked one lady. She responded, "I'm not too excited for my kids to know all of the Ugandan species of goat and which breed the best." Apparently these schools emphasize applicable farming skills, as many of the kids won't make it to secondary institutions.

Uganda's education situation is weird. A college degree guarantees nothing. Families mortgage their lives to send their children to the best schools, only to have them graduate jobless. I just met a security guard who is probably making $70 a month with a masters (the PhD of Uganda). It feels like in America if you do a masters in mostly everything, you will find a job, with the PhD being the automatic. There are few large corporations, as nearly all businesses end up being street side shops and vendors. Their supermarkets are a little bigger than the floor plan of our old house. I guess you can relate this to congested one lane roads and the fact that no one owns a car.

So I've been thinking a lot about the whole "humanitarian aid promotes laziness" argument that some of my friends back home held. It's true, Africa needs to become more independent (more than half of Uganda's infrastructure is funded externally), but with high rates of Malaria/TB/AIDS/Schisto I feel this dependence is a little more understandable. All of those diseases attack people when they are in the prime of their lives, hindering their ability to give back to their society. With poor transportation/health it would be nigh unto impossible to kick start a successful economy. Of course culture proves a stumbling block to development, but that should be used as a reason to cut off aid. What about Brazil's rise to economic power? I've hear Salvador's laziness is unmatched worldwide.

I love the wardies! I tried to teach one dude how to talk in a Southern accent. I'm going to have to get him on video because his efforts are HILARIOUS! I want to get a video tour of Mukono/our house on this blog this week.

Feb 10th

So I've had some more sketchy internet problems and am now a whole week behind. This will be my third time writing this entry.

I've gone out with the missionaries three days in the last week, working hard. One day Elder Pukati and I taught 22 lessons and probably invited upwards of 50 to church. Twice we've visited Lugazi, a town more than an hour taxi drive away. Lugazi is home to some people who are active in the church, making the sacrifice to come each week by taxi. I figured out that one would spend 6 dollars a month to do the commute. No biggey right? Wrong. Police officers here start making around $50 a month, elementary/secondary teachers (with 3 years of university) at $80, and doctors (with 7-12 years of post-secondary) at a whopping $160. In other words if you were a police officer with three kids, it would take 70% of your income to join the LDS church. In order to reduce this financial strain, the elders are aiming to get a Lugazi branch up on its feet.

The area is hard! Lugazi is predominantly Muslim, which makes missionary work extremely hard. After reading some of the Koran myself, I can see this is rooted in their scripture. Frequently the book counsels against the dangers of listening to the doctrine of other faiths. The investigators we taught there attacked us with questions which seemed impossible to answer without sharing your testimony. Through it all my companion kept his cool finding scriptures to back up his faith. As it was clear these guys weren't really progressing, we've had to amp up our contacting effort. The new people we will start teaching next week look promising, something I'm more than excited about.

It's interesting how sharing a common belief in Christ can serve as a foundation for a testimony in the church. The elders always start lessons in Christian homes by emphasizing their love for the Savior and their gratitude for the Atonement. This seems to invite the spirit in a magnificent fashion.

I've had the opportunity to sit in on some amazing lessons with the elders (although I can't say I've participated much). One of my favorite was a lesson with Dennis, a guy born into a wealth household with lots of opportunities in academia. Unfortunately his biology courses had convinced him that God couldn't exist. He told us that his concerns had been fed through experiencing financial corruption in his church. Our lesson was probably 40% testimony with some truly profound moments. We closed with James 1:5, telling him that if he prayed, he would feel the comfort only found through the power of the Holy Ghost. He's doing great! We even saw him at church.

One evening I was walking back to the elder's apartment with Elder Pukati, a Zulu from South Africa. Suddenly a bunch of kids attacked me, yelling "mzungu, mzungu (white person!)." They wanted to touch my skin and feel my hair. After talking to them in some broken Luganda, I said I had to leave. They followed for about a quarter of a mile until Elder Pukati said he had had enough. He picked up a dead chicken off the side of the road and flung it into the middle of the cluster of children. One little boy picked it up and started chasing us. Luckily a parent came to the rescue.

It's funny how Ugandans treat their children. Mom's hold their babies a lot but then kind of ignore them when they hit a certain age. You'll see three year olds crying near the side of the road all by themselves. We seem to give our youngin's tons of slack, but they expect a lot of them. It's also ok for a stranger to scold/punish someone else's kid. I'm not sure I like this part of the culture.

Funny story: I was asking someone in church how one would say "sing" in Luganda. Unfortunately, he didn't hear me say the "g." I continued, telling him how much I loved to sin.

I'm teaching piano to some people from the church tomorrow and am going to be busy visiting less actives all week! I should also be going to the village clinic and the prosthetist in Kampala towards the end of the week.

There is so much more, but I've run out of time. Hopefully this blog will be a little more consistent someday!

Feb 8th

Wow, lots and lots to catch up on.

So as you've probably guessed, our internet situation didn't get much better. An electrician accidentally cut our Uganda house internet cable, saying he would "fix it eventually." In other words, it will probably take a couple months to get full fledged internet. In the mean time we are doing a service that is per minute/broadband.

Let me start were I left off:

We stayed in Florence for three days, the first of which we spent in driving around Tuscany. Even with the drab winter flora, there were some stupendous vistas and castles. We stopped at one owned by the Italian cartographer Verazzano for a guided tour (apparently there's a famous bridge in NYC named after him). Expecting the dialogue to be centered on the history behind the castle and the man who built it, we were surprised when our tour guide spent around 90% of the time explaining the wine making process. Of course it quickly surfaced that our family didn't drink alcohol. Nope, that's right, we wouldn't even taste the wine produced at the castle. The tour guide concluded that we were ignorantly passing up his culture, and continued to explain the fermentation process.

I finally convinced my parents to let me go on a run! Liza and I ran something like 6 miles on hills draped with olive orchards. I think I probably pushed her a little bit hard, but it sure felt good.

The next day we went in to Florence. We found that our GPS was broken in the midst of a city filled with tight one way roads and no parking. Stress to the max. "Turn left in 100 yards... Turn around when possible... Turn right.... Turn around when possible." Again and again. Needless to say our family loved the street corner pizza shops and the ancient buildings.

After Florence we drove to Siena and Assisi, both of which are tied for my favorite Italian towns. As we were touring in the winter, we had them all to ourselves. Both are impressively constructed on fairly steep hills, with narrow cobblestone roads and grandiose cathedrals.

Next we went to Rome, staying in a flat literally 200 yards from the Vatican. Along with loads of Roman temples, we saw some more churches. Sunday we went to three hours of an Italian ward and walked along the Tiber towards a magnificent sunset.

All throughout Italy I was kicking myself for not learning enough Italian. I felt stupid asking for things in English and not being able to read street signs. I wanted to connect with the people and learn about their culture, both of which are impossible to do without knowing Italian. Very frustrating.

Now on to the good stuff, Uganda.

We arrived 2 AM Wednesday. As we hauled our luggage down the stairs onto the airstrip, we were welcomed by a swarm of mosquitos and a wall of heat. I got to freshen up on Luganda during the ride to Mukono, when I talked to our driver for nearly one and a half hours. It was SO much fun! I forgot how awesome these people are. Conversation is simple and carefree; you laugh at nearly everything. I told our driver: Ndi omumerika mwauvu (I am a poor american). He laughed for probably 2 minutes without talking. We both knew that was a huge contradiction.

Our first day on campus I showed my siblings around the facilities. The university was having elections for leadership positions in the student organization. HUGE deal. Hundreds showed up to cheer and cajole candidates running for office. Even a few small-scale fights broke out. Of course that terrified me. This was for student body positions! Can you imagine the real deal, a presidential election next friday?! Then I talked to some friends from church. They assured me that they won't be scary. "If there would be violence, it would have already started," my buddy Martin assured me, "We all know the current president will either win by vote or by corruption." If I'm not mistaken this guy has been in for two or three decades.

I took Liza to the fruit market yesterday. You walk past all of the shops on the main road until you reach a hill over looking a valley filled with metal roofed shacks, a place filled with poverty. I'm pretty sure she was shell-shocked. However she was happy when she found out how much we spent (in dollars) for our fruit: only 2 bucks for all we could carry back home.

I'm in love with these people! Talking to them makes me SO happy! I love striking up a conversation with some random person walking next to me on the street and trying to see how long I can last without speaking English (4-5 questions). I feel like you don't need to prove anything in Uganda, people will love you unconditionally. Since I memorized my testimony last time, I can break awkward pauses by saying "I know God lives," and other one liners like that.

Dad just got called as Sunday school president, Mom as Primary something, Hannah as a greeter in the primary, Cariel as ward pianist, and Liza (13) as Beehive advisor. Liza's excited to see what Ugandan YW advisors do (probably not what American ones do), and tell her teacher back home that she has the same calling. Funny. I think Mckay got a calling but I didn't catch that one. Maybe assistant greeter in the primary or something.

Tomorrow I am going out with the elders all day. The missionaries walk a lot (maybe 12 miles a day), so I'm planning on getting destroyed. I did learn how to invite someone to church today in Luganda, so that will hopefully be useful.

I'm thinking about diving into humanitarian business after the elections, hopefully starting next Saturday. I am somehow going to have to make a new Powerpoint for first aid and malaria with our limited internet. I'll find a way.

Best of luck,
Eric Reuben Smith

England

Sorry for not updating this blog regularly; our access to internet has been limited.

Life's going great! Our fam had a ball with extended family in Brigham City before boarding our plane. Everything just kinda fell into place. Even with my mom's skepticism, we fit every ounce of medication for the clinics into our luggage. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that the PVC glue I was bringing (stuff to make prosthetic legs) was flammable, so the airport security is sending my mom a citation thing in the mail. Too bad we won't see that for 8 something months!

When we arrived in London we loaded our mountain of bags into the huge 9 seater van we were renting and hit the road for Preston, a five hour drive away. On the way we saw a pile of rocks called Stonehenge, some university called Oxford, Shakespeare's birthplace, and miles of pristine British countryside. In Preston we stayed in the temple housing, used by people making long trips to spend time in the temple. There really isn't much to do in Preston besides loads of LDS church sites, so we visited a lot of them. This was the first place Mormon missionaries were sent outside of US/Canada, as well as President Hinckley's first area.

After two nights there we drove to the London temple, where we spent three nights. We did the city in freezing weather and since we are all packed for the tropical climate of east Africa, it was slightly miserable. However, the highlight was St. Paul's cathedral. We arrived for an hour-long choral performance that was out of this world. The high arcing ceilings created acoustics that were absolutely unreal and filled the church with reverberating music. Of all of the concerts I have been too, this was high on the list of top musical experiences. Amazing!

We had a superb Sunday in the UK. My teacher in priest quorum could have been a motivational speaker and his thick Scottish accent made his lesson all the more interesting. I loved chatting with the teenagers, nearly all of which opened conversations by excitedly asking if our family was moving into their ward boundaries. After church we visited some family friends from South Africa who were living nearby. Although living in England, both husband and wife were staunch South African in culture. Not only were their accents and mannerisms (they said malk instead of milk) more than entertaining, they seemed to see life through a different perspective than us Americans. That was refreshing to say in the least. We visited for five hours and could have stayed there five days.

We started Italy in Milan were we toured a big castle and the most magnificent church I have ever seen: the Duomo. The main hall of this cathedral stretched on for what seemed an eternity and the high ceilings towered above us. The next morning we drove to Venice, which is now officially the most beautiful city I have ever visited. The whole time I was itching to go on a long run through the city, but both parents thought I would get lost or mugged or something. I've decided next time I go to Europe I'm going to make sure a long distance runner comes with; running these cities would be heaven!

And now I'm sitting in a Villa thing in Florence. This blog is officially updated.

Blog

Welcome to the blog of Eric or Reuben or soon-to-be Elder Smith! Starting January 22nd I will be documenting our families adventures in England, Italy, and Uganda. I plan on posting every other day, with pictures on my facebook acount (E Reuben Smith). Thanks for your support!