Recovery

It's been a month now since I've been back in the U.S. 

In a lot of ways, it feels like I never left. Like somehow the five months that I was gone this time flew by a lot faster than the five months I was gone last time. And then in a lot of ways, I feel like so much changed while I was gone. (I am particularly aware of how quickly trends change. Apparently fleek is a compliment...)

A lot of people have asked me how I'm adjusting, and whether re-entry is harder or easier the second time around. It's not harder, but it's certainly not any easier. It's different. The first time in Uganda, I had to come to terms with all the harsh realities of living in a third world country and everything that entails. The second time, I knew what to expect about living in a third world country, but I had to come to terms with all the harsh realities of missions- everything that entails. 

I went through a lot in Uganda. Most of it I can't talk about, either because it shouldn't be said or because I don't know how to communicate it. I learned a lot, and I'm still learning how to respond to everything I faced. I've responded badly to some things, and for other things I've taken a passive posture, refusing to process the things I know I have to.

I just don't know how. 

This past weekend, our church welcomed a brand new class of what is now called Crossroads Leadership College (formerly Crossroads Master's Commission). I've just taken a job working alongside CLC in the Outreach Department of my church, corresponding with our missionaries and helping our church congregation get involved in missions. As part of our welcome weekend for the incoming students, we put on Face-to-Face retreat: an intense orientation with sessions that help each student have a better understanding of their relationship with God. It's always an incredible weekend, watching students get healed and set free from things in their pasts, given the freedom to move forward. 

As part of the staff, I was there to serve the students, pray over them, help in anyway I could. I was there for the students... so I thought. 

The words God gave me were so clear, so uncomfortable and yet so comforting at the same time. 

I am bringing you face-to-face with everything you've just gone through, 

everything you've just seen, 

everything you've just learned, 

everything you have avoided processing. 

You will be refreshed,

 you will recover. 

For I will re-cover you with my Hand and with my Spirit.

"Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:30-31

******

I still don't have answers. I don't know what the next steps are, I don't know how long this season will last, I don't know if the road changes from here. I'm in recovery. I'm taking my time, and I'm allowing God to work in His. My heart will heal, I will learn how to respond, I will process everything I have to process. 

I will recover, and He will renew my strength.

Questions, Reactions, Expectations

It's been a busy week since I announced my soon-return to the U.S., now only two days away. I left Gulu Tuesday morning to come to Kampala for the remainder of my time. My things are packed, goodbyes have been said, and today I am wrapping up the last of my business in Kampala. 

I've begun my preparation for re-entry... A series of emotions, processing, and thought-pattern transitions which I am seriously dreading. I don't fear re-entry. I've now "been there, done that," and I don't think it could possibly be worse than the first time...right?! 

I know certain things are inevitable. In the process of apartment-hunting, I saw an apartment listed at 800/month. "800,000 shillings a month!" I thought. "That's a good deal...wait." Also in the process of planning out apartment life, I tossed around the idea of buying a bigger mattress and setting it up on the floor with a heck of a lot of pillows and blankets- super boho. "But will my mosquito net reach all the way to the ground?" I thought. The idea of driving on the right side of the road, on the left side of the car, freaks me out a little more every time I think of it... Don't ask me to make any left-hand turns! 

I'm returning to a place where I can't walk anywhere as a single female; I can't bargain for groceries, transportation, clothing, etc.; I can't hail a motorcycle taxi at all; and dressing up is somehow less of a thing than it is in Uganda. (Seriously, women here dress up for everything- or no reason at all. Even if they have little, they find a way.) 

Will I feel overwhelmed? Probably. Relieved? In a way. Homesick? Definitely. I know I will be surrounded by friends and family who love and support me, and I am so excited to see them. Yet I dread certain questions: "How was your trip?", "What was your favourite part?", "Weren't you scared?" and "What's next?" 

This was not a trip, like a vacation or a backpacking adventure. It's home. 

I don't have a favourite part. Living in Uganda has become part of my "normal." I couldn't possibly pick something out. 

No, I'm not scared. More scary things have happened in the States in the past year than in Uganda. Even if I was in Sudan, Congo, or Somalia, though, I would be safer in the will of God in an uncertain place in the world than I would be outside of the will of God in my own backyard. 

What's next? Only God knows, exactly. My plan is to be in the states for a little while before I return to Uganda. There is a lot of paperwork that has to be done from that side, and of course funds have to be raised again. My attention will be largely on lining up things for Wajumbe, and I will have a job for my personal expenses on the side (the dreaded juggling act). 

After a meeting with my lawyer on Wednesday afternoon, I left feeling like I have a good grasp on what my next steps are for the organization. It won't be easy, but I have direction. 

So here come the days ahead. I'm looking forward to the chance to step back and process and refresh. God has graciously given me moments of one-on-one connections with friends, moments of silence, and moments of humour in the past week. (Two days before I left Gulu I saw a man wearing Star Trek glasses... And the next day I saw a different man wearing a full-head rubber Ronald Reagan mask while riding a bicycle. Oh, Gulu.) I'm so thankful for His continued grace upon grace that sustains me. 

There are big days ahead. See you soon, Louisiana. 

<3, Robin 

When it's Time to go Home

The past several months can't be summed up in a single word. 

I've learned a lot. I've seen the absolute best and worst of myself. I've discovered a need for Jesus like never before. I've rediscovered missions- real missions, and what that looks like practically. I've had to be responsible for other people in a whole new context, figure things out without the help of a volunteer program, and come to terms with my own culture and this halfway-familiar culture I now live in. 

There have been amazing highlights: I've gotten to reconnect with my friends and make new ones; I have built amazing relationships with my neighbors and their sweet children (I can tell the twins apart, and they no longer call me Melissa!); I got to introduce my best friend and my parents to the country that has my heart (such an amazing opportunity!); and I have gotten to lay the foundation for this ministry that God entrusted to me.

There have also been really hard times: saying goodbye to friends, struggling to explain this time of research and groundwork, fighting what has seemed to be an endless battle with certain required documents, and doing life largely on my own. I've learned that a lot of the expats here don't hold to the same standards in their faith that I do, and that's been an intense struggle for me. 

As best as I can possibly sum up, it's been really hard. 

The journey is not over, by any means, but I've done what I can do for now. The groundwork is laid, the documents are processing, and it's time for me to go home. There is much to be done from the US side: re-strategizing, regrouping, team-building, and refreshing. 

Saying goodbye is not easy, but it's not goodbye. Uganda is still home, and I'll be back before I know it. Louisiana is home, too, though. It's ok to have two. I'll go home to regroup, and I'll come home to move forward. 

I am so thankful for the grace upon grace that Jesus gives. 

<3, Robin 

P.S. I'll be home 9 August

Learning English Again

One of my favourite parts of living in the Ugandan culture is learning the language. 

In Northern Uganda, there are many different languages, but the most common is called Luo, also spelled Lwoo. It's a language filled with double consonant sounds like "ng," making it tricky for a southern gal who thrives on vowels. 

In addition to learning Luo, life in Uganda requires learning English all over again.

English is the national language of Uganda, but many words and phrases have taken on completely different meanings within the Ugandan culture... 

Enjoy. :) 

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"You were lost!"- I haven't seen you in a while; where have you been? 

"I'm around!"- I've been here, but I haven't seen you either!

"I'm from Kampala!"- I've just returned from Kampala! It could also be said I'm from the market, I'm from town, I'm from a friend's house, etc. Interestingly, Ugandans tend to phrase questions with the object of the preposition at the end of the question: You're from where? You came when? 

"You're from which country?" - Which country are you from? (Unless the word country is said, it is safe to assume they mean where are you coming from at this moment.)

"Even me!"- Me, too! 

"Even"- "Even I am feeling glad to see you." I can't really explain this one. 

"Go with" or "Move with"- to take something with you. "You go with this paper." "I saw you moving with that basket." You don't say you took something because...

"Take"- to consume as food or drink. "Let us take tea." "She is not in the office- she is taking lunch." 

"You first..."- before you go on to another location/activity, "you first take tea!"

"It is finished" or "It is over"- whatever you requested was there, but now is not available. 

"It's not there"- whatever you requested may not have ever been there.

"Flu"- a generic label for any illness, especially a cold. *sneeze* "Oh, sorry, you are having flu??" 

"By the way"- a side comment that may or may not have anything to do with your current conversation... 

"Pass from there"- walk this way, walk around this obstacle, follow this path, etc.

"Pack it"- to take leftovers to go

"You're called who?" or "You're called what?"- what is your name?

"You stay where?"- where do you live in Uganda?

"Now now"- immediately. Now can mean anytime in the next little while, whereas now now demands a more immediate response.

"Slowly slowly"- take your time, don't rush

"Somehow"- an adjective-ish. "How is your work coming?" "It is somehow okay!" 

"Stubborn"- an all-purpose adjective used to describe the otherwise difficult-to-describe-in-English: "You're very stubborn!"- You're very funny/clever/creative/disobedient/distracting/hard-headed, etc. 

"Ever"- used like "always": I'm ever seeing these things on the road. 

"These things"- Used to describe a specific item you've already been talking about. Believe it or not, this is not a generic phrase! 

"This one"- usually referring to a specific person. This one leaves to return to Gulu soon. 

"How is the day?" or "How's been the day?"- how is your day going?

"How is home?"- how's your family/roommate/personal issues?

"How is here?"- How are things at your current location?

"How is there?" How are things wherever you just came from? 

"We are here."- a simple statement that more or less means "we are okay." Usually the response is "thank you." 

"Pick"- pick up or pick out. "I need to pick soap" or "I cannot pick the fly from the milk." (The struggle is real.)

"Pain"- a verb that means "hurt": "My back pains me/is paining me." 

"Nice time!"- Have a good day! Good to see you! 

The response to many of these phrases is thank you... You can be thanked for almost any circumstance: waking up, being okay, returning from a journey, greeting someone, living in a certain area... you name it! 

*****

There are many things to write about, but time won't let me now. Soon you should expect a blog featuring: 

Paperwork

Fixing my Eyes

Holiday in Kenya

Friendships

The Missionary Formula

Cold, or "Flu"

Partnerships

The Odd things You See 

Etc. 

In the meantime, my friends (Stephanie and Aaron and Kimberly) leave this week, my parents come in two weeks, and I am somehow only three and a half months into this journey. (It seriously feels like I've been here for years- not in a bad way.) 

Thank you all for your love and support!! I appreciate your prayers so much. 

Love and prayers, 

<3 Robin 

***** 

To support the ministry of Wajumbe Initiative in Gulu, Uganda, visit my GoFundMe page. 

Continuous Culture (and Grace upon Grace)

And now it's time for stories that feature exercise, goodbyes, the Avengers (all twelve of them), an insect epidemic, and a reunion... Not necessarily in that order. 

After two months here with me in Uganda, Ashlie has returned home to the States. I'm thankful she was with me for the beginning of this adventure, and I definitely miss her. 

For her last couple of days here in Uganda, we decided to be tourists in Kampala. We looked around the craft markets, we ensured that she rode side-saddle on a boda at least once, and we went to see the Avengers. Because that is what American tourists do in foreign countries. 

Kampala has grown so much since I was last here, and what was already a strange dynamic of first-world-within-third-world is now an even more lopsided balance. For example, the theatre where we saw the Avengers is inside a relatively new mall called Acacia Mall. Acacia Mall is fancy- it closely resembles any nice mall in the U.S., filled with restaurants, clothing stores, and jewelry boutiques. There's a shop with real (real!) ice cream, a party store, and even a Christian bookstore. Places like Acacia Mall would make it easy for any expat living in Kampala to forget where they are. 

For as nice as the mall is, though, it still bears the oddities that accompany the first-world-within-third-world dynamic... 

Ashlie and I were both very excited to see the Avengers. We had originally thought that she would probably see it on her flight home, and I might see it...one day. But we were presented with the opportunity to see it together at the theatre in Acacia Mall.

Tickets are 15,000 Ugandan Shillings for a regular (2D) viewing, and if you want to see it in 3D, you pay an additional 8,000. (A total of  about seven U.S. Dollars for a 3D movie.) 

What we soon realized, though, is that if you only pay the 15,000, you're just watching a 3D movie without the glasses...

I'm still trying to figure out why everything in the movie happened twice...

(Wahh, wahh, wahhhhh)

**********

After I brought Ash to the airport, I got the chance to go with Kimberly and a few other Watoto volunteers for their tour of the children's villages. Since I left last time, the majority of my babies moved out of the babies home and into the villages, but there was one in particular that I hoped to see. 

Back in 2013,  I worked mostly with the Monkey and Hippo age groups (Newborn-2 months and 2 months-4 months) at Babies' home. There was one little boy in particular that I fell head-over-heels in love with- Andrew. 

Andrew and me at Babies' Home in Kampala, 2013

I volunteered to be his godmother when baby dedication came along, and I got to take his pictures and put together a page with his footprint and his birthdate, etc. 

And while on the village tour, I got to see my boy. 

 

His new mama woke him from a nap in order to see me, so he wasn't sure what was going on. But I picked him up, sat him on my lap, got some great kisses, and as I was talking to him, he pointed to himself and said, "I'm Andrew." 

Excuse me while I go cry. 

******

The journey home to Gulu, I was exhausted. I'll be honest, it was about two weeks of crazy, hectic, non-stop stress before I left Kampala, and I was ready to be home, in Gulu, in one place for a while. 

Side note- during those two weeks of crazy, hectic, non-stop stress, I experienced grace upon grace. God gave me the moments to breathe, moments of laughter, moments of silence and moments of distraction exactly when I needed them. And miracle of miracles, as I traveled home on the Post Bus by myself, I somehow had two seats to myself. And this girl slept. 

I arrived home to an empty house, which was actually okay. My other roommate had gone to spend the weekend with a friend, so I came home to recuperate on my own. I didn't mind. I played music, I finally hung pictures in my room, I unpacked and put my things on the new little plastic shelf I just bought. I settled in, I breathed, I was ok. And then I heard it. 

We have three dogs at my house, which I like. One guard dog, Odie, whom I have mixed feelings toward, and Denver and Lilly, whom I love. I assumed that Denver and Lilly were wrestling in the living room, a common game of theirs, but usually not this loud... 

I walked into the living room, my jaw dropped, and I quickly closed my mouth again for fear that a white ant would fly inside. There were hundreds of them- swarming around the light, climbing on the floor, zooming aimlessly around the room. 

Ummm. What the heck do I do here?! 

White ants are common in Uganda- I had seen them probably every night since I got here, but like one or two at a time, not hundreds. They resemble a honey bee with large, white-ish, lace wings, and they're incredibly annoying as a single creature, let alone as an entire plague. 

I somehow managed to cross the room, switch on the porch light and off the living room light in hopes of drawing them outside, and then I crawled under my mosquito net and went to sleep. 

The next morning, the yard was filled with large, white-ish, lace wings...no bodies. Not creepy at all. 

As I returned from church that morning, I passed my neighbour, Vicky, cooking on the charcoal stove outside her house. She smiled and greeted me: "Ah, you were lost!" ("You haven't been around, I haven't seen you in a while, where have you been?") 

I smiled and chatted with her about my journey to Kampala, how I'm glad to be home, etc. She stopped to stir something on the stove, and then she held up a spoon. "You taste!" 

On the spoon were the white ants. 

I felt myself making a face before I could stop, and Vicky laughed. "You fear it? You fear it in your stomach?" 

I nodded. Heck yes I fear it in my stomach. 

She explained to me the different ways of cooking white ants- fried, mashed in a paste with OD (peanut butter and simsim), or as they are with salt. 

I made a face again, and she laughed at me. "For me, I don't fear. This is our food. But for you, you are not used." 

I can't say I ever will be. 

****** 

I've learned here in Uganda, in Gulu in particular, that there is an easy way out for pretty much everything. It's in deciding not to take the easy way out that I learn and grow and immerse myself into Ugandan culture. I'm not always good at it. There are days when I'm exhausted from the sun and the walking and the dealing with people and I just want to watch The Office. (Let the judging commence.) This brings a whole new meaning to dying to self, not taking the easy way out. There is a level of cultural immersion that only comes with stopping on my way to and from work to shake hands (often multiple times) with the sticky-fingered children in my neighbourhood, instead of just waving; going into the market every other day or so to get fresh vegetables instead of paying more and and enjoying the convenience of a grocery store; choosing to walk to and from work each day, instead of flagging a boda. I definitely have not perfected this, but I'm learning, slowly-slowly.  

Last Wednesday I spent the entire day doing NGO research, walking the entirety of Senior Quarters to make notes of what NGOs are where. It was hot, and I was tired, but I was determined to walk. 

I passed a boda stand on my way, and, as usual, the drivers asked me if I needed a ride. 

"Madam, we go? Can I take you?" 

I shook my head and smiled. "No, thank you." 

"You are footing?" ("Walking") 

"Yes, I am footing!" 

In response, one of them shook his head at me and taught me a valuable lesson: 

"You should not foot! It will shape your legs!" 

Well, ok. 

****

Thank you, friends, for all the love and support! Things are going well, as far as the registration process goes. Paperwork is finally starting to move forward after a brief period of what seemed like hitting a wall. Please keep me in your prayers for continued understanding and strength during this process. 

"But He gives more grace." This has been my Scripture lately. There have been moments of discouragement and frustration, I won't lie to you. And when those moments come, I have to cling to Jesus, and remember that He gives grace upon grace. 

Love and prayers, 

<3 Robin 

Being American: "The Crazy, Wet Mzungus" and Other Stories...

Every time I travel, I like to act as local as possible. (For proof, read this)

Maybe it's ridiculous, but it's my goal, when seen in public in another country, to be mistaken for a local. I adopt the walk, talk, clothing and food as if it were my own. 

However, this time around in Uganda, I've noticed myself repeatedly having "American" moments. 

Moments when I forget about the way Uganda time runs. 

Moments when I really, truly want to wear yoga pants. (Let the judging commence.)

Moments when I want to read a book, but power is not there and my Nook is not charged. 

I find myself feeling frustrated in these moments, catch myself, and then get frustrated for feeling frustrated. 

You know what to expect, Robin! I tell myself. You've lived here before, you know the culture and the customs, and sure, you've been away a while, but you've told the stories so often that you should remember!!

(Because that's valid logic.)

After a few frustrating experiences, a few breakdowns, and a few internal lectures, I finally remembered that I have to extend grace... to myself as well as everyone around me. 

Yes, I am American. It's great that I can adapt so well into other cultures, but it's also okay for me to enjoy those cultures from the perspective of my own. 

For example... the rainy season.

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We are in the rainy season right now in Uganda. What that really means is a consistent, daily downpour (almost at the same time each afternoon and evening...like clockwork), and a perpetual power failure. 

Which brings me to today's story. 

The weather turns from a beautiful, sunny, partially cloudy morning into a downpour very quickly. Ashlie and I were at home this afternoon when the sky changed; we didn't think to start plugging things in... and the next thing we knew was a downpour and a power outage. 

And everything was dead. 

Phones. Computers. Nook. All dead. 

(This is where I experienced one of the aforementioned frustrating American moments. Oh, well, I'll just do some work. Nope, can't. Computer is dead. Oh, well, I'll just watch a movie. Nope, can't. Computer is dead. Oh, well, I'll just read a book. Nope, can't. Nook is dead. Ok, Robin, you're American. Your whole life apparently revolves around technology. What has happened to you?!)

There's a cafe across Gulu with a consistent generator schedule during power outages, free wifi, and good coffee... so as soon as the rain let up a bit, Ashlie and I decided to make a break for it. 

We packed up all of our electronics, donned raincoats (a recent investment which I'm currently very thankful for), and walked out of our little neighbourhood to flag down a boda. 

Culture note: most Ugandans "fear" the rain. They stay out of it as much as possible. Including boda drivers. 

Another culture note: there are few, very few paved roads in Gulu... and even the paved ones are covered in a significant amount of red dust... or mud, during rainy season. 

So Ashlie and I went on a puddle-jumping (jumping over puddles) adventure. 

This is the perfect example of being American and being okay with it. Sure, we stood out... we were laughing, leaping, splashing, cold, wet mzungus! Every time we passed a group of Ugandans huddled under a veranda, I could hear them saying things along the lines of, "Look at the crazy, wet mzungus!" But the laughter was well worth it. 

****

I'm still learning to extend grace to myself, to allow myself to be human, to be American, even. It's a muddy process... pun intended. ;) 

But the laughter (and the stories) are well worth it. I'm learning a lot, and leaning on God more than ever. 

Thank you everyone for the love and prayers! We've been here for a month this Saturday, and the journey is still just beginning. More stories, laughter, and updates to come. 

<3, Robin 

Palm Sunday, Pleasantries, Poultry and Paperwork

Gotta love alliterations! 

We've had a pretty eventful week, filled with culture, traveling, and tons of paperwork. 

*****

Last Sunday was Palm Sunday, as well as our first Sunday in Gulu Town. 

Cultural note: In Uganda, you don't go to church. You "go for prayers." If you want to ask someone where they attend church, you ask them, "Where do you pray?"

We went for prayers at Watoto Church Gulu, where we celebrated Jesus with a combination of Western- and Acholi-style worship songs and a message about giving. 

Watoto Church Gulu is about to shift to a new, bigger location across town, and thank goodness! Both last week and yesterday for Easter we danced shoulder-to-shoulder during worship, and I probably ran into the ladies next to me a dozen times! There were so many people! 

I am overjoyed to be back with my home church in Uganda. <3 

*****

I've noticed something that I somehow never picked up last time... 

When someone sneezes, I naturally proceed with the pleasantries of "God bless you," and I half-way expect an, "Oh, thank you" or at least a nod of acknowledgment that they received the blessing...which I passed to them... from God... (Our pleasantries seem weirder to me every time I think about them.) 

Here, however, if I say "God bless you" after someone sneezes, that person just stares at me.

Finally, I asked Tony, a friend of mine and our boda driver, whether it was customary to say anything at all after someone sneezes. 

"No, you just look at them!" he replied.

Pleasantries- out the window! 

****

One of the biggest priorities on my to-do list while I'm here is the registration paperwork for opening an NGO (non-governmental organization). I'm so blessed to have on my team a few men of God who have "been there, done that," and can offer advice and connections here in Uganda. 

One of those connections is a great guy named Steven who lives in Kampala. This past Monday, Ashlie and I travelled back down to Kampala for a week of meetings with Steven and a lawyer that will be helping me with the registration process.

Traveling to Kampala from Gulu... what an adventure. 

The trip is six to seven hours...

It can be made one of two ways: 

Private hire- this is when you have a taxi service (usually a 15-passenger van) drive your group only the whole way down. It's definitely the more comfortable option, but it can be really expensive. 

The second option is taking the bus. My favourite bus to take is the Post Bus, which goes from one post office to the other, making brief stops along the way. It's cheap, safe and reliable, if a bit slow. However, it leaves at 8 AM, so running late is not really an option. 

On Monday, we took the Homeland Bus... such an experience. 

The bus was scheduled to leave at 10 AM, but did not even arrive until 10:45. 

Ashlie and I ended up at the back of the boarding line, which meant we had no options when choosing our seats. The only two seats together were on the back row of the bus, in the middle of four other people. Every time the bus went over a pothole, we flew at least six inches into the air, crashing into each other on the way back down. 

Now, picture this: a crowded bus comes to a stop on the side of the road. All the windows are at least partially open, because there is no air conditioning. As the bus rolls to a stop, all of a sudden, voices come calling through the windows, and items begin to appear through the window cracks...

"Madam, soda?"

"Ssebo, you want pork?"

"Yes, please, water?"

And my favourite:

"Madam, you want a chicken?"

Not a piece of chicken, not even a cooked chicken... 

A live, wriggling, squawking, upside-down chicken is pushed through the window for sale, and sure enough, the last half of our journey is spent with poultry passengers. 

*****

The process ahead of us is an adventure... it's been stressful at times, but God has shown us so much favour. 

Currently we are going forward with the registration process, which may take up to two months. I'm also researching other NGOs here in the Gulu area, learning what is sustainable and what has best impacted the community, etc. 

A large part of my job right now is simply living and learning. Immersing myself in the Acholi culture, learning the language, "going to prayers," shopping in the market, walking through town... doing life with the people in my community and building relationships with them. 

That's what being a missionary is, after all: doing life in a way that shines the light of Christ through any culture or circumstance. 

*****

Thank you, everyone for your prayers and support! There are many more stories to come. 

<3, Robin