Busy kids

The kids somehow find new things to do every day.

The kids are performing in a Bible skit of Daniel and the lion's den in two weeks, and Caleb and Kylie made Caleb's mask.

He is very proud.

He has assured me he is a BABY lion so he doesn't have to roar really loud.

Karis is loving riding without training wheels.

I had to laugh the other day when I looked outside and saw her riding around with her baby doll tied on her back. Even though I see it every day on literally hundreds of women, I always smile when my girls do it.

When it rains, sometimes is just a nice shower.

Other times, it seems like a monsoon, like my friends in India and Nepal have been experiencing this summer.

I'm sure I should cringe about the filth that is floating down the street and hitting my children's legs, but I didn't. I was just glad they were having a good time.

And looking back, I'm so glad they didn't get a staph infection or some awful disease from who-knows-what in the street. Animals and humans consistently use the side of the road here as a bathroom, so I can only imagine…No, let's not!

When the rain goes away, we are left with mud in our yard (and no street in front of our house, but that is another story). Here is what the kids do side-by-side with the children from Sudan across the fence next door.

You can see mud radios, tables, chairs, animals, pots, and purses, etc. This wasn't all of it, but as I was cleaning up all their treasures, I thought I'd better get a picture before it gets cracked or dropped.

We were also very blessed last weekend to see many baboons again on the road home from Kampala and several elephants at the entrance to Murchison Falls.

It's a great spot on our trip. It's about 2 hours from Arua (our home), and we get to see baboons every time, the beautiful Nile River every time, and either elephants, hippos, Uganda Cob, or giraffe when we get close to Murchison Falls.

Some days it's just fun living in Africa.

And other days, when they are filled with language notecards,

Personally, I'd rather just sit around and look at elephants.

What happens when you are robbed

Please know that this is not a personal testimony or you would have gotten a prayer request notice from me.

This occurred a few hundred yards behind our house on Tuesday night. I heard the aftermath - that's how I knew about it. In fact, my whole section of the city "heard" about it.

Around 1:30 in the morning, I heard moaning.

Pitiful moaning. Sad moaning. Heart-breaking moaning.

Then more moaning.

Then crying out.

It got closer and closer, like it was in my back yard.

Then it faded back again.

Then it sounded like it was in my side yard.

Then my front yard.

You get the picture.

It went on and on for over an hour.

If you want to know anything that happens around an African village or town at night - ask a night watchman.

Check.

Apparently, a lady returned from disco dancing to find everything in her house gone, including 300,000 shillings (about $150) she had earned from braiding women's hair.

Her mother and sisters have all died, and her father has moved in with her. He was there when the burglary happened.

He's blind.

This lady had the saddest moan I had ever heard. It was so repetitive that there was no more than 2 seconds of silence between each one. It was so sad.

She had been robbed just two weeks ago says the watchman, but I must have been out of town because I would have remembered that moan. I don't know how she had anything left to take, except money, but the robbers obviously knew her "night watchman" was blind and that she wasn't home, so she looked like an easy target.

The watchman said she came moaning down the hill behind my house, then turned around and went back to her house. She then returned behind my house, around my house, and down the road in front of my house.

The watchman said she walked past my house and gave her last worldly possessions (a cell phone and 1000 shillings (50 cents)) to a neighbor to hold, and she wondered off moaning into the night.

I don't know if she was going to moan her way all the way to the police station or just to the point where she got her sanity back.

I just want you to appreciate your local law enforcement. You can call them. They come to you. And you can moan in the privacy of your own home.

Theft is a terrible thing.

We can all be robbed so easily by the thief that wants all we are and have.

"The thief comes to kill, steal, and destroy, but I have come that you may life and have it more abundantly." John 10:10

Can I get an award?

I got a call from my friend Scoviah on a Thursday saying she wanted to meet me Friday to give me a wedding invitation for a wedding on that Saturday. She had been forgetting to call me.

We tried to plan for a "hand over" on Friday, but she said she was one of the "workers" of the wedding and she would be at the "saloon" all day Friday. I smiled. I wonder if they all call a hair salon a "saloon."

She was frustrated that I couldn't "pick" it, but asked hesitantly if my family would come to the wedding without an invitation in hand.

Sure, why not? Of course, I knew my kids weren't really up for a 7-hour wedding, so I let her know they probably wouldn't make it.

A 10:00am wedding on a rainy day. Should I go? Should I stay in my warm, dry home? Well, as you can imagine, I wasn't "feeling it," but I decided to go anyway.

Because of the mold growing on the walls in Doug's and my bedroom, Doug and I have both been sick for about three weeks. This day was no different. In the privacy of my home, I could walk around with Kleenex stuck up my nose, but somehow I didn't think it would be
appropriate for a wedding "look." So I went prepared.

Lots of Kleenexes.

But this time, I also went prepared in other ways that I had somehow forgone last time.

I'm a quick learner.

First; no heels. This was going to be a flip-flop wedding for me. Don't cringe, all you people in America – this is Africa.

I took water, snack foods, lipstick, pen, paper, wet wipes (I needed something to wipe the mud off my flip flop feet), toilet paper, my Bible, money, a gift, a Tide stick, my cell, camera, and hand
sanitizer.

If you remember my last wedding, this was MUCH improvement.

I felt like a boy scout. I was so prepared. And my bag was so full, but it felt good to have all my comforts close to me.

I called a piki driver I use regularly to take me to the wedding, and I arrived fashionably late at 10:20. I was so glad I did. The bride decided she didn't need to arrive until 11:00.

As I was walking in at 10:20, the master of ceremonies was saying, "The bride and groom told me that if 7 people were in the church, we should start. And since we are five times that, let's start."

We were only about 20, but oh well. The rain delayed more people than just me.

Every bride and groom hires an MC for their wedding to entertain the crowd, provide humor, and help the couple relax at the wedding and the reception. For example, when the bride later walked in to the song "Showers of blessing," he said something corny like, "We had the
blessing of rain, and now we have the blessing of Jackline."

The female pastor walked in shortly after me, all the way up to the front, so I wasn't feeling too bad about being late.

After the master of ceremonies said we were starting, the squealing, hollering, and excitement sounds started. 10 of the 20 people in the audience at this point were all mundus. The groom works at the Anglican radio station with a lot of Germans, and they all came.

The "noise" did not come from any of us. There seemed to be a designated "screamer." I don't know if these people are paid or not. She was not dressed like she was going to a wedding. She entered the side door with about 15 neighborhood kids who just stood and stared while she hollered and waved a tree branch around.

The number of still cameras (4) and video cameras (2) was considerably less than the last wedding. And I think I only had my picture taken twice in the audience, and I was even further up front.

At 10:50, the MC gets a tambourine to play along with the band, and in walks the groom and his friends, swaying slowly in unison. By this time the church was pretty full.

At 11:00, the bride and her bridesmaids come in led by the flower girls, ring bearer, and cow/goat tail-wavers (I have no idea what this means, but I'll try to find out).

I finally saw Scoviah. She was the matron of honor.

At 11:25, the priest asked the groom to lift the bride's veil and make sure it was actually the girl he wanted to marry, and then he said a blessing over them.

I guess the blessing wasn't too important because all the cameras turned to take pictures of the audience at this point.

On page 9 of 16 in the program, the power went out.

No lights on a cloudy day.

No music except for drums, and we were in the middle of a song.

No one skipped a beat. We kept singing.

The scriptures were yelled from the front.

After 10 minutes or so, the generator was fired up outside, and the microphones eventually started working again.

I got tickled at 2 white boys who showed up at noon (2 hours late). They are new to town, but being late didn't bother them at all. They came down front to my row. I guess the ushers thought they had to seat all the mundus together.

One part that is new to weddings for me is the priest focusing on taking only one wife. Polygomy is a real problem here, so the church tries to teach against it as much as possible.

At 1:10, we finally started singing the recessional. Eight minutes later, I joined the slow recessional, and I saw my friend, Beatrice. She quickly handed me the invitation that Scoviah had given her. I guess it's a really big deal for them to have an invitation in hand.

She led me through a field behind the church as a "short cut" to the reception. It's a good thing I had the wet wipes for my feet. Beatrice and I both had to use them when we finally arrived.

At 1:45, I was seated in the "invited guests" section, right behind the reserved area for the radio station employees. When my German friends showed up, they motioned me to come forward to visit, and they told the owner of the station that I would be sitting with them.

Front row seat.

The decorating started.

The bride's friends and family from her village showed up for the reception in the back of a large truck. I didn't see them at the wedding.

At 2:45, the bride and groom arrived.

There were prayers and introductions (even the "saloonist" was introduced) and Beatrice participated in a skit about marriage for everyone.

Tried to enter a great video here, but maybe I'll get it loaded when I get to Kampala this weekend.

We ate at 3:30.

The bite-size cake pieces were passed around at 4:15, while the bride and groom went to change their outfits for the cake-giving

and their gift - getting. Yes, this chicken was brought to the front for the bride and groom.

The gift-giving started at 4:45, and as much fun as I was having watching everyone dance and having fun, my nose was STILL running.

I was pretty miserable.

I hugged Scoviah's neck, told my German friends goodbye, and told Beatrice I was catching a piki home.

I returned to my mold-infested home, put on pajamas, took an anti-histamine, and started cooking dinner.

I don't know why I always feel like I deserve an award after I return home from a wedding marathon.

Chocolate anyone?

Giving People

I'm sure I have yet to mention how giving these people are. In fact, at lunch today, Kylie said, "Who do you keep getting all this food from?"

Since is was African food, Kylie knew I hadn't purchased it, and thankfully, with Alice around, I don't have to know how to cook it either.

Today, we had pumpkin that Florence, my language teacher, had given me.

Yesterday, we had Matoke (a banana shaped food that tastes like an irish potato) that Alice, our house worker brought us from her garden. And we had two oranges (the oranges here are green - funny) from Florence.

Last week, we had peanut sauce that Alice ground with a grounder (jiki) she brought from her house to use for me. She carried it all the way down the hill with her baby on her back. (I should have looked to see if it was on her head.)

This picture is of Beatrice. She is one of the worship leaders at the church where I go to hear the Lugbara service. She is also the one who invited me to that wedding I posted a few weeks ago.

Anyway, one day after church, she asked me to come back after all the services were over so she could follow me to my house. She wanted to give my children clothes she had bought them.

At this point, she had only seen them in church twice, and she didn't know any of their names, much less their sizes.

Nevertheless, she did pretty good. Caleb liked his muscle shirt, Karis really liked her new dress, and even though Kylie's clothes were a little tight for her, she was very gracious.

This particular day, we took Beatrice home only to find she was locked out with the wrong key, so she stayed with us an extra 5 hours, and we took her out to student camp with us that day. She is a precious, smart young woman. She graduates from University in December, and in February, she is going on a scholarship to the United Kingdom for a year to get her Masters. She has already told me that when she returns, she wants my children in her wedding...that will be a fun story!

This is Florence showing Kylie which beans to pick in her garden. I go to language about 4 times a week, and I usually leave with some kind of food.

Giving.

Giving.

She says it is common in her culture, when you need greens, you just walk to any garden you see, and pick some. She has strangers in her garden all the time...and she doesn't get angry.

They just give and give.

Selfishness really isn't a quality I see in people around here. If you have enough, you make sure everyone else around you does too. It reminds me of the New Testament church in the book of Acts.

Our neighbors on one side are from Sudan. The children have learned some Lugbara in school, and they speak a little English, except for one of their sons who is hearing impaired, but the rest of the family speaks Arabic.

Kylie spends a lot of afternoons across the fence with Sarah, the girl in maroon. They make dishes out of clay, they wash the family's real dishes, help start fires for cooking, and fill pots with water from jeri cans.

I would really love to minister to the mother, but I can't speak her language. I've passed avocados over the fence, but other than that, we just sit and smile at each other. They are from the Dinka tribe, which means they are unusually tall. The mom is easily 7 feet. You can see how Sarah towers over Kylie already.

This is Ayiko (that means "happy"). He is Florence's son. He and Caleb are pretty good friends, and he's usually playing around the house during my language class, so I get to see him every day.

This is a video of "giving" at the most recent wedding I attended - last weekend. A few of the ladies just have flat stones on their head. That is what they are giving to the bride and groom for their house. You can see chairs, boxes, and money being given. But more than anything, can you see the JOY in which they are giving everything?

Kylie's 8th birthday, August 21

We happened to be in Kampala, the capital of Uganda, for Kylie's 8th birthday. Our car needed to get worked on, so we drove the 7 hours down - our car survived - and then it went in the shop. Of course, it wasn't ready by the time we needed to return, so we borrowed another car to return in. 3 hours into the trip back, the air conditioner went out in that car. Good times!

An employee of the Baptist Mission of Uganda drove our car back to us a week later and came to help us hook up our solar power, but that's another story.

The second picture was taken at the top of the hill at the Baptist Mission. It really is a beautiful view, but just like Victoria Falls, there is no railing around these high cliff-like places. My children are sitting next to a 15 - foot drop off, catching HUGE snails.

The lady standing there is Jan Skuza, a colleague of ours in Kampala. We stayed with her and her husband Lynn for two nights and were there when we woke up for the birth day.

Jan's husband, Lynn, got up early and made french toast and eggs, and Jan made homemade breakfast sausage for the birthday breakfast. It was a real treat. My kids love the Skuza's!

Caleb wanted to let you know how old his sister was.

Another item of business to take care of in Kampala was getting Karis a haircut. She wanted it short, so Jan told us a place we should go.

I don't think the lady was used to cutting hair of someone who is so short. She didn't put Karis in a booster seat, which made it hard for her to see.

The result was a lop-sided hair cut, but thankfully, Karis doesn't care, and she looks pretty cute anyway.

Kylie wanted pizza for her birthday, but the Italian place she likes was closed down for a month while the owners visited family.

Her next choice was a hamburger.

I have yet to have a good hamburger in African (I've only tried three), so I was a little skeptical.

We went to an "American" style restaurant for the burger, and it was ok, but not great. It's hard for me to love a burger that is dry, missing mustard, and no pickles in sight...but that's just me.

We also had ice cream while we were in Kampala and got to re-stock on some grocery items we wanted. Plus, we also found some TV series that were for sale on DVD, so we bought a few to have an American media "fix." It's also a great way to wind down the day after studying language.

Other than that, the last exciting thing for the kids was seeing this baby baboon on the side of the road on our return. We usually spot elephants or hippos as we near the national park, but on our way down, we could only faintly see one elephant through the trees, and on the way back - nada. (That's Spanish - not Lugbara, for anyone who was confused).

Student Camp

Leadership training for some key students from 5 surrounding boarding schools took place for 6 days in August during their one week break from school. First of all, I thought it was amazing, that these students would give up their holiday for leadership camp, but I think they were all glad they did.

The camp was held at a beautiful location 30 minutes outside of Arua at a boarding school called Ushindi.





















What a view from the top of one hill looking towards the next.



















These girls are laughing as Gordon (a volunteer) wiggle his ears. That was a new sight for them.






















Kylie washing her dishes after lunch.

















Look at the amount of firewood kept on hand to keep fires burning in and outside the kitchen. No ovens or stoves at this school (or any school, for that matter).
















Doug (and Kylie) sitting with a lot of the boys waiting for afternoon Bible study.

Caleb had such fun learning "magic tricks" from Arnold, performed with grass and rocks.

Arnold is a great story teller, and he had these kids enthralled.

Grace is a beautiful girl, inside and out. She let Kylie and Joanna decorate her hair with flowers and never complained a bit.

This man made a lot of impromptu songs throughout the day. The song he was singing here was about Caleb.

What a blessing all these students were to us.

Six people from Winterset, Iowa, and one man from Florida came to help the girls on our team and our team leader's family "do" camp. My family had the benefit of enjoying everyone's company, building relationships with students, and Doug taught one session on being a godly man.

This is a video of Arnold trying to teach Kylie how to make some music. I have some videos of Caleb's magic tricks, and I'm having trouble sending them to my mom, so I might have to post them here for her, and then all of you will get to see.

A bird in the hand is worth...

Well, I wouldn’t know. No one here uses their hands if they don’t have to. It’s quite amazing.

There are so many times I wish I had had my camera for you.

The head and the back – that’s where it’s at!

I saw a girl walking down the street one day with a bar of soap on her head. I mean, why bother carrying it in your hand when you have extraordinary balancing abilities.

While I was on a motorcycle one day, I drove past a lady carrying a hammer on her head. Just one hammer. This one I did not understand. The tool even comes with a HANDle.

Everyday, I marvel at the women here. They always have a huge tub of HEAVY fruit or vegetables on their head taking them somewhere to sell, and most of the time, a child is also strapped to their back (they aren’t selling the children, just in case you were worried).

Their hands? Not helping them hold the bucket, that’s for sure. They are swinging by their side, completely empty, ready to greet anyone they come in contact with. OR, I have seen a few use their hands to loosen the wrap around their middle to slide the baby from the back to the front and re-tie them there, so the child can nurse while she’s walking to town.

Tell me these ladies don’t impress you. They are the hardest working people I know, and they are amazing.

I know I’ve shown you this picture before, but it’s just a reminder.

This picture I took from far away at student camp last week. A lady was chopping wood…with an ax…with a baby tied to her back. I held my breath every time she threw it over her shoulder.

Did I mention they are hard-working?

The reception, August 14, part II

Remember when I put on heels? I knew it was a bad decision when I slipped them on, but I just couldn't bring myself to wear flip flops with my nice dress, but oh how I wanted to!

After the wedding, Beatrice was so excited to see me. She gave me a hug, asked me if I could help her count the offering money and then we would go.

There was never a thought in her mind to get a piki. We just walked and walked. After about a mile, we reached the location for the reception – a soccer pitch at Arua Public school. One of her friends escorted me to a chair under a tent while she went to take care of duties.

The reception was slated to begin at 2:30, and that is when I arrived. That is also when the decorators started decorating. No joke. (I finally remembered my video camera! But since I already stand out like a sore thumb, I didn't want to stand and make myself more obvious, so the videos have a lot of heads. At least you can hear some of the music)!

There were 500 people sitting in tents watching this for 45 minutes. We were entertained by music and singing, which several people stood up and danced to. Also, we watched as four buffet tables were set up with food. Three men had to carry each pot of enya (cooked, mashed millet) to each table. That stuff weighs a ton! (As a side note, after tasting it at Alice's after Sarah's baptism, I knew I was passing on that dish today).

Finally, the bride and groom drove up at 3:30. And guess what?

The whole wedding party of 50 marched into the reception at the same speed, if not slower, than they had entered the church just four and one half hours earlier. It was quite an entrance! They were dressed so beautifully, it really was quite a show!

After prayers and greetings, the families of the couple got in line to eat at 3:50. I looked across the way at a sign on a tent over there, and it said, "Invited Guests."

I didn't know what the sign over me said, and I was a little nervous. As they were telling people who would eat first, I realized, I was in the mother-of-the-groom's section. (The mother sits on one side with her relatives behind her, and the father is on the complete opposite side with his family.) I had been in a different section, but when "my Kindergarten teacher" showed up, I moved to another section so we could have room to sit together. Neither of us knew we were moving to the mother-of-the groom's section.

We held back and were called with another section at 4:30 to go stand in line to wash our hands, and then stand in line for food. I had forgotten we had to eat with our hands (silly me!). I started watching the bridesmaids, dressed so elegantly, all putting their fingers in their mouths.

Now I remember why it's not a good idea to have long nails.

I got some of every food offered except the enya (the stuff in that big pot in the front). There was rice, beans, matoke, beef or chicken, cabbage, and irish potatoes. Finger food, right?

I was SO thankful for the blaring music the whole time, so that no one could hear me slurping my rice and beans off my fingers.

Then the music stopped…

Thankfully, it was just a break between songs. But I heard enough of the sounds of hundreds of people eating with their fingers in that few seconds, that it was enough to make me happy for overly loud music for the first time in my life.

Bake to the hand washing station…

Cake cutting progressed after this. I had seen 18 cakes up on pedestals,

but those weren't the ones they cut. They cut the 8 or so that were sitting on the table.
We were not called up to get cake. The flower girls brought around a bowl filled with one-bite pieces of cake. You were supposed to take one small square and pass it on to the hundreds of other people waiting for their bit of sugar.

I passed. I didn't want them to run out, and I'm not a big fan of cake anyway.

This is what the girl next to me grabbed - a chunk of icing. Smart girl!

I thought we were nearing the end.

It was 5pm.

Then the bride and groom and their wedding party just walked out of the reception.

I asked what was going on.

I found out they went to change clothes for the gift-giving part.

Of course! Why didn't I think of that?!

For the next thirty minutes, the soccer pitch became a dance floor. They sang ONE song over and over for THIRTY MINUTES!

No lie!

But the people had a great time.

This is me with Beatrice on the left and Karen, the headmistress of "my school" and the groom's step mom on the right. We were waiting for the wedding party to return.

By the end of the thirty minutes, the soccer pitch was REALLY full.

And this lady was at it again.

The wedding party finally returned and lined up for another procession. This one was faster, but they still looked just as stylish as before!

The bride and groom then presented cakes one by one to important people or groups of people as part of a wedding tradition here. The groom's step mom and aunt got the first two, then her parents, priests, places of employment, wedding organizers, bridesmaids, groomsmen, best man, matron of honor, and church. How all the bridesmaids were going to share one cake, I don't know. But I saw how "the church" shared its cake.

Side note: Today (Sunday, Aug 15), at 1pm, I went back up to church to meet Beatrice so I could show her to my house, and there she was, with the whole praise team, cutting cake. Again, it was in one-bite pieces. Do you think they would ever believe it if I told them every guest at a wedding in America gets a WHOLE piece of cake!)

These are some of the gifts I saw laying out in the field.

The bride and groom got the last cake and then gave speeches.

At 5:45, the first gift line forms. There was a line for her family first and then a line for him.

I was blown away.

This is part of the groom's line. My guess is that a village of over 100 people got together and purchased what you can barely see. Several groups of people are carrying sheets of tin over their heads. I'm guessing it's for roofing a house of some sort. It was an amazing sight. (For some reason I forgot I had a video camera again).

These are the girls I stood in the groom's line with. You can see they are bringing brooms and wooden spoons.

After they gave their gifts, they were so excited, they stopped beside the gift table and just danced for a while.

Tables and chairs looked as if they were floating through the air as people carried them on their
heads. There was a dresser with mirrors, a refrigerator, brooms, spoons, boxes and boxes, and if someone didn't have a gift in their hands, they dropped money in a huge bucket..

It was really a sight to see.

The line went on and on and on.

The end.

This is Scovia that I told you about in the Culture Shock post.

Beatrice and I walked one mile back to the church on my incredibly sore feet, and when she went into the church to practice worship songs for Sunday…I flagged a piki and went home!!!

Seven hours later, as long as it was, I was still glad I went.

Congratulations Malique and Jennipher!

Hope you enjoy seeing me on your wedding video!

Wedding Day, August 14, part I

Doug had to transport students out to the student camp, so he was pretty late returning home. In fact, he got home 10 minutes before the wedding was to start. I couldn't leave the kids, so I had to wait for him.

I ran to get in my dress (my hair and make-up were already done) and heels, and then Doug told me he'd drive me to help me get there on time. No piki today!

I got to the church at 11:05 for an 11am wedding. The last wedding I went to, the bride showed up an hour late (on purpose). But this bride was walking down the aisle at 11:15! I sat near the back, and waited to be bored to death.

Not this time!

The bride and all of her wedding party (a mere 28 people) walked down the aisle to the song, "How Great is Our God." I don't know if you remember how slow they walk here for the march down the aisle, but the song went on for a good 10 minutes. I teared up a bunch in those 10
minutes. It was pure heaven to sing praises to my Savior in English and remember how much that song had meant to me on different occasions in the States. I sang it on our last Sunday at Pinelake before I moved to Yoakum. I sang it our first Sunday in Yoakum, and I sang it on a Sunday when I knew God was calling us to missions. All three of those times I had cried, and here I was again.

I'm sure everyone thought I was overcome with the beauty of the bride, but it was actually the beauty of my Bridegroom that had me overcome! How great He is indeed.

Next, we sang, "Forever God is Faithful." Again, I was in praise and worship heaven.

Every word that came out of the pastor's mouth was pre-printed in our 12 page bulletin. When he got to the part about anyone knowing a reason whey these two shouldn't be lawfully married, he ad-libbed a bit and asked FOUR times in different ways: "Are you sure there is no one?" "No one wants to stand and say anything?" Etc. It was a bit much!

There was a lot of clapping. XXXXX

THEN, he asked the couple about the vows they were about to make "in the name of God, who is judge of all and who knows all the secrets of our hearts; therefore, if either of you has a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now." After some silence, he asked again… (it was all pre-printed in the bulletin except for the repeated asking).

Before I go on, lets talk about the cameras. There were no hidden cameras at this wedding Six men surrounded the bride and groom. They could not even be seen by the audience. There were three still cameras and three video cameras and two blinding lights facing them and the audience. Every time I blinked I saw spots.

THEN there were two men walking the aisles. One with a flash camera; one with a video camera. I counted 7 flashes on me throughout the service, and I know I was filmed on 7 different occasions, because the blaring light attached to his camera would blind me. I can only imagine what this couple will think when they look at their pictures and view the video. "Who was that white girl at our wedding?"

I thought I was the only one with light colored hair at first until I saw some of the bridesmaids had spray painted spots or streaks of gold in their hair to match their dresses. And when visitors from Kampala were announced, I did see one other light-skinned blonde.

After every "I will," or "I do," or vow said, there was LOTS of clapping, whooping, and hollering. I wish I had a recording of the sound they make, and trying to type it out would do no good. Oh well. I forgot I had video capabilities on my camera because I put it out of my mind after trying to share with you the termite song back in the Spring. It was similar to a football (soccer) match. A lot of the women had shakers, and one lady marched in with her homemade vuvuzela.

Notice "USA" at the top :)

After the rings, the bishop said, "You may embrace your bride. And if you want, you can give her a very light kiss."

Later on, the reverend doing the sermon said the bishop had broken a record. They were the first couple to have kissed in the church. Then he went on for a long part of his sermon to say kissing should only be reserved for marriage, nothing before.

It was 1:00 when communion started. I saw one girl, with a purpose, get up and walk down the center aisle. I thought she must have something to give the bride. She walked up on stage, behind the pulpit, in front of the altar, and turned around to take a picture of the bride and groom taking communion.

THEN I saw 4 other people do the same thing! So now, along with the 6 "wedding photographers," there were 5 other spectators up there, too. It was crazy!

Order returned somewhat as the aisles filled with people to take communion, but as soon as that was over, and the couple was getting prayed over, 6 or so people went up front to photograph the couple kneeling in prayer. AND, since some children playing outside the church, who weren't invited to the wedding couldn't see properly, 15 of them entered in the side door at this point and stood in front of several people to watch from this point on to the end – and no one told them to move, leave, or anything.

One of the things I find hilarious, is that one of the hired photographers ran to a developer in town and had hundreds of pictures made of his two best photos of the couple, and he sold them at the reception for the equivalent of 25 cents a copy. Since the majority of the people do not own cameras, it was the only way they could have a picture memory of this day.

More pictures were taken as the couple signed their marriage license and then the bishop (not a wedding coordinator) told everyone where to stand for the final photograph of couple, best man, and matron of honor. The wedding party (which was announced at the reception as totaling 50) and the parents did not get up for pictures.

They did introduce the groom's step-mother at the end, and when she stood, I finally didn't feel like a stranger anymore. It was Karen, the head mistress at the school where I attend Kindergarten classes.

Oh, if that was only the ending, but it was only 2 o'clock. The reception hadn't even started!

Culture Shock, August 8

This is kind of a weird culture shock experience…

Last Sunday, I was leaving church, and someone that I didn't know ran up to me and told me I was "wanted." It took me a while to get her meaning. She was pointing to another girl whom I didn't know who was standing by the church. The girl by the church was pointing in the window.

My first thought was, "Oh no! The bishop wants to ask me why I'm attending the Lugbara language service."

When I got to the window, Beatrice, the beautiful worship team member who sat by me on my first Sunday, was there smiling.

She said, "I want to give you a wedding invite."

I said, "I didn't know you were getting married!"

"Oh, it's not for me. It's for a friend." she replied.

"Oh, does she know me?"

"No."

The church service was starting at this point, and she needed to sing.

"Ok," I said. "Well, I'm leaving with the kids. Do you have it?"

"No. Can you meet me here tomorrow at 4?"

"Sure."

"Ok. Bye."

Am I the only one who thinks this is weird?

So the story goes on. The next day at the church, I arrive at 4. There was a woman's prayer meeting going on, and the bishop thought I was lost, so he sat to visit with me in the back of the church, and he talked awfully loudly. Eventually, one of the ladies came back to tell him his voice was really carrying.

We had an interesting conversation as I asked him some questions about the Church of Uganda.

Thankfully, Beatrice arrived after 15 minutes.

I went to sit with her and her friend Scovia. We talked for the longest time, and had the best conversation! Scovia used to work for Campus Crusade for Christ, and she really knew what she was talking about. She and I had a great talk about some of the practices of the Anglican church, and Beatrice jumped in after a while.

Scovia is in a life group of young marrieds' that has Bible study each week in a different homes. They have gone through The Purpose Driven Life and The Purpose Driven Church. I don't know what they are going through at the moment, but this was my culture shock moment!

On paper, statistically, it says the Lugbara are "unreached," but here I find that some people actually GET IT, and they are studying scripturally relevant material, and going to Bible study regularly. Of course, if all the Lugbara "got it," then Arua would look and act a lot different, but I was still inspired. This was someone I could partner with in ministry. This was someone who not only understands her culture, but can also help me understand it, and how best to approach the people. Shock! Thank you, Jesus.

Beatrice finally got around to pulling out a wedding invitation for two people I've never heard of in my life. Basically, how it works here, is that the bride can hand stacks of invitations to whomever she chooses. In turn, those people can invite whomever they want as well as the bride inviting people as well. Beatrice was on the "Wedding Organization Committee of Arua," so she got a stack to hand out.

Looks like I'm going to a wedding.

Blogging, Places of Worship and Christmas Decorations, August 8

I enjoy it when so many of you comment on how you miss reading my blog.
It makes me feel guilty, but I enjoy it ☺
Now that Doug and I are both in language full-time for the first time, our lives look a little different. We seem to need every spare minute to study our hundreds of note cards, translate 1st grade readers, write out scriptures or small stories in our language, and get prepared for the next day of class. Doug and I determine what we want to learn and how we want to learn it, so we have to go to each of our language classes prepared to show them what to teach us. It's an
interesting concept, and it puts a little more pressure on us to be on the ball.
Anyway, since I am a writer at heart, I always have a blog going on in my head. Unfortunately, they haven't been making it on screen lately.
I do want to give you a small snap shot of a church I attended last Sunday. Kylie and I went early in the morning with a lady to a church that starts at 7:30am. This lady works on Sunday, so she has to attend the early service.
We met on our road at 7am, and started trekking off down hills, through pastures, across mud puddles to our destination about a mile or more away.
The church doesn't have lights or electricity, so it was very dark when the service started. The two pastors who were doing readings for that day were positioned at the front of the church, each by a window, so they could see their Bible.
I saw decorations hanging from the ceiling and up front behind the altar, and I whispered that they must have had a wedding at the church the day before.
Silly me. My friend told me they were decorations left up from last Christmas!
It wasn't until 8:15 when there was enough sunlight coming through that I could actually see what I was looking at. Sure enough, there was a banner across the church name at the front saying, "Merry Christmas," in red letters on a gold background.
I knew I was going to like this church.
The song leader wouldn't let the congregation sing anything that sounded like a funeral dirge. At anytime the songs weren't lively enough for her, she stopped everyone, made them start over, and she made sure they sang with gusto.
I was asked to stand and greet everyone, so I did…in Lugbara, and then sat down. My friend said I hadn't said enough, and she made me stand up again, and say some more.
Why didn't I remember that this is a custom in an African church for first time visitors?
I could have had something so wonderful prepared in Lugbara. As it were, all I said was, "I greet you all. My name is Kathryn. I'm from America, but I stay in Arua. Thank you."
Pretty pathetic, huh? The only redeeming quality of it was that it was in Lugbara, and so the congregation loved it and all grinned at me.
The guest preacher for the day saw one lonely white person in the crowd, so every now and then, he would look at me and translate a little about what he was talking about. It was a little
uncomfortable, but nice.
English is nice!

I've been promoted, Aug 6

I went to see the head mistress of the school where we "attend". Doug had his language class at that time, so I went alone.

I asked her opinion about moving to a first or second grade class, and she suggested second grade. I felt so successful.

She told me to talk to the Kindergarten teacher, and then she would also talk to the Kindergarten teacher after I left and then to all the 3rd grade teachers. It just so happens that the kids go on school holiday next week, so they are in the middle of exams right now. What that means is that I'm on school holiday, too.

When I report back on September 6th, I will be in 2nd grade!

Every time the teacher called me to the board in Kindergarten (and yes, that happened more than once), I always knew the answer. I guess I need to be challenged a little more.

I am by no means saying that I understood everything that went on in that class, but the children were only learning 4 to 7 words a day with flash cards, and I think if I'm going to bike to the school with my out-of-shape body huffing and puffing and sweating, I need to learn more than 7 words.

I'll let you know how 2nd grade goes when I'm done with my "holiday."