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!