The Wild West!

On Friday afternoon we made our first family trip to Queen Elizabeth National Park (QENP), using our new annual National Park entry passes that we recently purchased since officially becoming East African Residents (much cheaper than "foreign tourists").  At the park gate we picked up a local technician who needed a lift into the park headquarters and who helpfully spotted an elephant for us in the thick bush just a few minutes later!  Having dropped him off we got to the campsite where there was a neat horsehoe of green tents and a massive truck belonging to one of those across-Africa safari companies.  We spent some time choosing where to pitch our tent, eventually choosing a spot on fairly high ground, quite close to the toilet block, with the back close to a hedge, one side blocked off by our car and the front facing a fire-place - (the reasons for such caution will become clear).  Sam had never camped before so he took great delight in charging in and out of the tent before it was properly up, helpfully collecting up tent-pegs from where we'd just put them in the ground, and developing his own unique style of Maypole-dancing with the guyropes!  As we finished pitching camp we saw a group of elephants in the bush on the far side of the campsite, and by sitting on top of our car were able to get a good view of them.  There were also warthogs around the campsite and beautiful yellow weaver-birds.  Although staying on the cheap in our tent, we treated ourselves to a slap-up dinner at the adjacent luxury game lodge before turning in for the night, with a large fire burning outside the tent, lit by the campsite ranger (who, having lit the fires then disappears until morning).

Eventually Sam realised that tents aren't just for playing in, and that this was where he had to sleep and settled down inside his mosquito-proof travel-cot inside the tent.  We read for a while, and then faced that inevitable dilemna of being in a tent after a big meal and contemplating the trip to the toilet block; but in this case the short route to the toilet block, was also part of the larger route from the bush where the hippos eat at night, to the lake (Lake Edward) where they live.  Luckily no large eyes were reflected back in my maglite beam and no animals charged me from behind and I made it safely to and from the toilet block in the otherwise pitch dark, taking just enough time to notice the fantastic panalopy of stars above me - stars such as I haven't seen since my time at sea.

We didn't get much sleep on our thin foam roll-mats with the swishing and munching sounds of hippos grazing outside.  I know that sound travels far in the dark making distance perception very difficult, but at one point, at about 4 or 5 am (by which time the once blazing fire was now a far less scary mound of glowing embers), I was convinced that there was a hippo right outside the tent.  On getting up an hour later at 6am the presence of a pile of fresh hippo poo 1 foot behind the back of the car confirmed my suspicions! 

We started our morning game-drive a little after 6.30 with the pink/orange glow of sunrise shining over the Kazinga channel which links Lakes Edward and George, passing some waterbuck as we left the campsite on a route suggested by a ranger.  A little over an hour later we saw the tell-tale signs of two other vehicles stopped on the side of the track with cameras and eager faces protruding from windows/sunroofs.  Sure enough, there in a clearing to the right, about 25m away was a single adolescent male lion!  In order to understand the significance of this sighting to us, I have to explain that Bethan has been coming to Uganda regularly since 2004, had been to QENP once before and to Murchison Falls NP a few times and NEVER previously seen lions!  As this fine specimen of God's creation stood up and walked away from us we followed it and came upon a group of three lions, including a fully adult mane with a resplendent mane that immediately reminded us both of Aslan in that BBC classic "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe"  - which I'm sure was the staple Christmas viewing of most British children born in the early '80s!  We stayed long enough to watch this male have a bit of a tussle with its younger companions and emit an impressive roar.

We drove around for another hour or so, enjoying the fantastic scenery of QENP which is on the floor of a rift valley and so looks very different from the hilly/mountainous farms, villages and towns (including Kasese) which surround it.  Heeding the excellent advice from the ranger that between 9 and 10am the growing heat would drive elephants down to the water to drink we turned back along the track which parralels the channel, passed the same lions again, although at more of a distance, and then rounded a corner to see a group of elephants crossing the road to go and drink, flapping their ears and swinging their trunks as they went.  They really are magnificent creatures and one even treated us to a loud trumpet before lumbering off through the bush.  Sam got very excited at seing the elephants and pointed and squealed appreciatively, which was a relief, because when we were awe-struck by the lions he had seemed just as interested in playing with a mango-juice carton!

Having struck our tent and left the park we returned along the scenic route past the "Katwe explosion craters", which are enormous relics of some meteorites or volcanoes of past millenia.  The driving here was extremely challenging even in the dry, and it took almost 2 hours to cover 24km so we're unlikely to take that route again, but the scenery was truly awe-inspiring.

We feel very blessed to live so close to such natural beauty and returned to Kasese exhausted, but very inspired, in time to get some sleep before I preached my first sermon in our church on Sunday morning (which went well).

NB. If any of you come to visit us don't necessarily expect to see lions on a first visit, it can take years before you see them!

For those who pray:

This week (Thurs 29th) there is a big meeting to determine which BMS development projects are given funding, and ours are up for consideration, along with others from all over the world.  Please pray that we get funding so that we can proceed straight away with the much needed skills training centre and daycare projects for the people of Acholi Quarter, Kasese.

Pray/Give thanks for our continued health, safety and well-being.  Bethan had her cornea scratched by Sam whilst up in Gulu, which was very painful, but has now healed; Sam has cut some painful new bigger teeth, and I seem to be incapable of putting any weight back on, despite having taken precautionary de-worming tablets, but otherwise we are all well!

The Wanawake Save the Day. By Bethan. September 19th.

The Wanawake save the day.

Gareth and I didn’t go to church this week.  We had had three sleepless nights with Samuel’s teething and had woken up with headaches and a severe sense of humour failure that meant we just couldn’t face the three-hour Swahili marathon that is church; especially not with a grumpy Sam.  So we stayed home.  We went about our daily routine: first job was to get the goats out of the pen and tether them under a tree.  Uh oh, Maziwa’s rope was fraying badly.  As Gareth tried to pull her close to put another rope around her neck, it snapped and she ran loose!  Oh no we will have to spend all day trying to catch her!  Samuel was tired and getting grumpy so as Gareth kept an eye on Maziwa so she wouldn’t eat the fruit trees, I went to put Sam to bed.  “Gareth!”  I called from the other side of the house.  “Yes?” answered Gareth suspiciously.  “I’m afraid we have a lizard situation!”  I yelled.  Gareth came, nervously leaving an actually very well-behaved Maziwa untethered in the garden.  There was a slimy black lizard in Samuel’s mosquito net.  As Gareth set about getting rid of it, I took Samuel on the ‘walk of doom’ that means wandering aimlessly around the house with Sam on my back until he falls asleep.  At home I would use a push-chair for this job and walk around the town but this is my local way!  As I was wandering around I heard various shouts and yelps from Sam’s room.  Sam fell asleep so I lay him on our bed and went to help Gareth.  Sam woke up as soon as I put him down so I went back to him and decided that he could have his nap later!  I was told by Gareth that although the lizard was still around, it had no tail anymore and was probably so annoyed that it wouldn’t come back.

“I want to go home.”  I said quietly to Gareth.  “I’m fed up of lizards and stubborn goats.”

“You mean you would rather have a pesky rabbit and some runaway guinea pigs?” Gareth enquired, remembering our rather cheeky pet rabbit, Moses (now living with my brother and his wife!)

“Fair point.”  I admitted.  “But, if we were in Cambridge and it was a lovely sunny Sunday afternoon there, I bet Richard and Joy would come round with Miranda, or your sister and her boys would pop round.  I really wish we had some friends who would just pop by and say hello.”  I dreamed.

The phone rang.

“Hello Bethan?  It’s Alice [pastor’s wife and good friend].  You weren’t at church this morning so Mama Esther, Eliza and I are coming round.”

“It’s okay.  See you soon.”  I said, as if I had a choice in the matter.

The women came round half an hour later and I brought out some of my home-made brownies.  We drank cold water and the women mused as to the make-up of the brownies and we just sat and chatted in a mixture of Swahili and English (sometimes it wasn’t clear which was which!)  We shared stories and I showed them photos of my family and friends back home.  I told them that I had just wished that we would have visitors and then there they were and what an answer to an un-uttered prayer they were!  Mama Esther told me a little about the fact that she had come from Congo 13 years ago and hadn’t been able to go back and visit her family so she understood how I felt.  Of course this humbled me because she had fled a war-zone and hadn’t gone back since, whereas I could come and go as I pleased.

The women then helped us catch Maziwa, who was calmly munching her way around our garden, which made Samuel laugh so much he got the hiccups!  Three Ugandan women in their Sunday-best and Gareth in shorts and scruffy t-shirt chasing a galloping goat around the compound was fairly amusing, it has to be said!  I put Sam down to help and he followed closely behind me, laughing all the while as we all darted this way and that!  The pastor’s wife eventually rugby-tackled the goat by the front legs and we got her rope on again.  The Wanawake left, with my grateful thanks for visiting, and Gareth and I were both in much better spirits.

Close Encounters. By Bethan. September 2011.

“Uh oh, Gareth, I don’t know what to do now.”  I said as I sat in a precarious position on a very large and busy junction in Kampala.

“Just sit tight and when there’s a space, go!”  recommended Gareth, seeing the impossibility of the situation.  Cars were streaming past, making our car shudder with each near-miss, boda-bodas were darting in and out of not-quite-stationary cars, dicing death by a hair’s breadth.

We were on our way back to Kasese via the BUU office, after a long and tiring week in Gulu and Kampala.   I approached the HUGE junction and looked at the array of traffic lights on display.  I picked one that seemed most relevant to my current position and desired route and saw that a green arrow was pointing right, in the direction that I wanted to go.  I crept forwards, believing to have the right of way but not quite trusting the system.  I was forced by the streams of traffic still flowing in front of me to stop about three feet shy of the junction (or what we would call the ‘yellow box’) and this is when I confessed to Gareth that I didn’t know what to do.

“I can’t even see the traffic lights now, at least I don’t think I can see the one that is supposed to tell me what to do: who are those traffic lights over there supposed to be directing?”  I asked as the lane with a red light to the left of us produced a stream of 4x4s and heavily-laden wonky trucks.  “I bet I get stopped by the police for doing something wrong even though it is not clear what is even supposed to be happening.”

“Don’t worry, just wait for a space and go.”  Advised Gareth.

“Hello madam.  I need to see your driving licence then I can tell you what you are doing wrong.”  Announced a rather robust Ugandan traffic-police woman in a gleaming white uniform (how do they get them so so white with all this orange dust!?) who had just appeared at my window.  Oh poop.  I produced my driving licence and started to explain that the light had been green and I was just following the traffic instructions and trying to go about my own little business without causing any trouble to anyone.

“You were driving recklessly.”  She announced as if I had been a 17 year old boy-racer.

I appealed to her better nature.  “Madam, I saw a green arrow pointing my way and I was just trying to get through the traffic to go over there (gesturing right) to get to Kasese.  I got stuck because the other traffic appears not to be obeying these traffic lights.”

To be honest I was stressed by now because Kampala driving does this to you.  Imagine driving in rush-hour London and times it by 20 or so.  Add crazy drivers in huge 4x4s (I know, if you live in Chelsea this is the case too!), street-hawkers and the odd stray animal and no road markings to speak of and you get the picture.  We also had a 7 hour journey ahead of us and we were wasting valuable ‘Sam-asleep-time’ by being stopped by this police lady.

Tears welled up in my eyes because, since I was a child, I have always cried when I am angry or indignant.  It's not the most useful response and something I fight each time it happens, but I never win.  I began to shout in order that my words would come out, but they arrived weak and wobbly:  “Madam, I assure you, the light was green and I was just trying to get through the traffic!”

Gareth began to fight my cause as he saw that my wobbly voice wouldn’t achieve anything.  “Madam, trust me, the light was green.”

“If you are going to shout at me I am going to go away and come back later.”  The police woman said and with that she walked off with my driving licence and left us bewildered sitting in the middle of a fast-flowing and turbulent stream of traffic.  Gareth boldly got out and followed her, otherwise believing that we could be there all day.  I sat in the car and sobbed pathetically, wishing that I could just drive off as the lights turned green again (while the police officer was talking to Gareth I witnessed at least 20 other more serious driving offences than the one I was being accused of!)  However, Gareth was now out of the car and my licence was with the police officer so I just sat with a sleeping Samuel and prayed that the whole ordeal would be over.

A lot of hand-flapping and gesticulating went on between Gareth and the police woman and I could occasionally hear wafts of the conversation: “Eh!  You people!  The light was…  You should have...”  “But madam, the light was… we did…”  and so on.  Eventually Gareth flew across the lanes of not-quite-stationary traffic and jumped in the car.  “Drive over there, NOW!” he shouted.  In a moment of get-away-car-ness I put my foot down and shot ten metres across the junction to park at the side of a very busy road full of shops and took my luck at sitting here without being booked for illegal parking.  The police officer eventually came to meet Gareth, who once again had had to go out of the car to hurry her a little.  (Don’t forget the 7 hours we still had to drive to get home!)

After a short while the police lady opened the passenger door and said “good morning.”

“It’s not a good morning actually,” I started, wobbly but indignant “I am just trying to get home and follow all the right rules but in our country green means go!”  I sobbed.

“Madam, if you cannot control yourself you will have to come to the police station so I can explain it to you there.”  I fell silent but the stream of indignation continued in my head, held back only through gritted teeth.  I did not want to elongate this encounter through the bureaucracy and likely expense that a police-station visit would involve.

The police officer began to draw me a diagram of traffic lights upon traffic lights on an odd-shaped junction, explaining to me that those vehicles that were “sloping down” heading to Makarere (wherever that was) should go when the top light is green and the bottom light is red but that those “pushing up” towards Kawempe should go when the top light is red and the bottom light is green, but that those vehicles wishing to “pass” up to the right (me) should wait on (yes, on!) the zebra crossing until I have seen that those “sloping down” and those “pushing up” (by the way we were not on a hill!) have passed, then I wait until the traffic lights on the far side were a random mixture of red and green, four cars and a goat had passed on my left and a cow had pooped on my right, then, and only then could I take my turn on the junction!

“Oh, I see now.”  I lied.  There is occasionally a time for lying, and this was it.  I was clearly never going to understand this junction and, although I was livid and still believed I was in the right, I thought about the long journey we had ahead of us and the prospect of being sat in a police cell having this explained to me again was more than I could take.

“Good.” Said the police woman.  “I have decided to forgive you and let you off with a warning.”

“Thank you madam.”  I forced myself to say through gritted teeth. “I can promise you, I will never come on this junction again.”  This time it wasn’t a lie.

The woman retreated carefully backwards out of the passenger door, Gareth hopped back in and, with Samuel stirring and about to complain at having been in the car an hour and not even being out of Kampala, we drove off towards home.  “Not long now sweetie.” I lied to Sam. 

A few hours later, in the lush-green of western Uganda, having passed several more police along the road, we were stopped by a policeman with a radar-gun in his hand.  Gareth was driving this time, (within the speed-limit, I hasten to add).  “Good afternoon Officer” he greeted the policeman.  Having inspected our licences and asked where we were going, it became clear that the policeman had had an idea that we didn’t like the thought of.  Noticing the policeman’s name “Baluku” embroidered on his shirt pocket, I introduced him to our Baluku (in Lukhongo all first-born sons have this name) sitting happily in the back, who dutifully waved and smiled at the policeman.  On seeing Samuel waving the policeman smiled, greeted him and then said “you tell your Daddy to buy me a car.”  We laughed, knowing not to bother going down the route of explaining that we were in no position to buy cars for people left, right and centre.  He changed tack:  “What can you give me to make me happy?”  We laughed again, and once we had ascertained that we were not in breach of any law, bid him a good day, and drove off before his hankering for a bribe could become any more blatant.

Needless to say we were very relieved to arrive back at our home in Kasese and find that the goats were still alive, the water was plentiful and the electricity was on.  We both said a prayer of thanks for a safe and happy end to a Very Long Day.

Youth Retreat at Kibuara Bible College, 26-28 August.

“What time are we due to start our talk?” I asked  Monday, the youth pastor.

“2pm.”  He replied confidently.

“What time is it now?”

“It is around 3pm.”  He replied, ignoring my implied point.

I looked in the classroom: three youths were flicking nonchalantly through notebooks looking a bit bored.  A few more were hanging around outside leaning on trees.  A Toyota Saloon pulled up next to a parked boda-boda.  The driver got out.  One youth fell out of the right-hand door followed by another and another and another.  More youths got out of the left-hand door.  It reminded us of the joke “how many people can you fit into a mini”.  As we watched, the youths stretched, looked around them and dispersed, leaving their luggage in typical teenage fashion in a pile behind the car for someone else to deal with.  After the driver unloaded the copious luggage, including half-a-dozen mattresses, a diesel generator and a loud speaker, the car drove off.  Our little son Samuel and his local band of merry men saw the opportunity of a soft-play centre and began jumping around on the mattresses.

At 3.30pm about 12 youths had arrived for the conference that was to last from now (Friday afternoon) until Sunday evening and was for youth from across Kasese district.

“I think you can start now,”  suggested Monday.

“But lunch has not yet been served.”  I replied, seeing from the timetable that lunch was supposed to take place before talks.

“It is not ready.  The Cassava is still raw.”  Ah.  If the Cassava is still raw then it will indeed be a long time before lunch is ready.  Best to get on with the talks first.

Gareth was up first.  We had been asked to talk about the roles that the youth can play in their churches.  Now, even in the UK this is a hot topic.  Do we fire the youth up to believe that they can change things that have not changed for centuries?  Do we tell them that they should listen to and obey their elders at all costs?  Do we ask them what they think their roles are and then put them right?!  With some welcome advice from our BMS colleague in Peru, youth worker Amanda Roper, we decided to base our talk on 1 Corinthians 12:12-26 (about being part of the body of Christ) and Revelation 21 (a new Jerusalem).

Gareth stood up and introduced himself to a very placid, sincere-looking group of young people.  He began by discussing what uses the different parts of our bodies have.  He then produced a pile of “post-its” with words on which he distributed amongst the bemused-looking youths.  To any Brit worth his salt in youth-activities you could see where this was going but when told to stick the post-its to their fore-heads and ask each other questions with yes/no answers as to the name of the part of the body on their post-it, the youths looked stumped.  Silence.  To an outsider coming in now the scene of 15 (for some had come in late) young people sitting silently looking at each other with brightly coloured post-its on their foreheads would have been rather an odd sight!  After a little more explanation, sighs of “ahhh!” were breathed as the pennies dropped.  The group began to liven up and a gentle hubbub of noise was created as amusing questions as to what part of the body they were thrown about.  Fits of giggles began to crack through the air as someone found out he was an intestine, and wry little smiles appeared as someone else figured out that he was indeed the brain!

With the point proven, the game came to a close and Gareth continued with his talk.  He gave some Biblical background to the principle of the church making up the body of Christ and offered food for thought concerning what role the youth should play in their churches.  He encouraged them that they were of equal value to all other age-groups in the church and that they were the ones responsible both for setting a good example to the younger children and for leading the church into a brighter future,  but warned them that they should do so without dis-respecting their elders and traditions.

Now, with about 20 young people in the room, it was my turn to deliver what I had to offer.  Revelation 21 talks about a new Jerusalem.  The bad old things have passed away and the city is made new in the presence of God.  I began by talking a little about the Kingdom of God (thanks Mat Wilson for your deeply informative lectures on this matter at IMC!); where is it, when is it and how do we know when we see it?  The conclusion I drew (although the discussion on the matter will go on for eternity) was that the Kingdom of God is here now and glimpses of it can be seen in nature and good deeds that people do for each other.  It is also going to come in a much fuller way when Jesus returns.  I reminded the young people that when we pray we say “Your Kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven”.  I hoped that by talking a bit about the Kingdom of God it would help the youth to really think about what they are asking for when they say “your Kingdom come on earth”.  With this in mind, I moved to Revelation 21 and we did an activity in their church groups (they were from five different churches) whereby they had to identify the things in their communities/villages/towns that need to change.  They then went verse-by-verse through Revelation 21: 1-6 re-writing it for their own communities.  The following is a summary of what all the different groups came up with:

“I saw a new Bwera/Kasese/Kiburara.  The old one passed away.  I saw a new Kasese coming down from Heaven, dressed in peacefulness and truth.  A loud voice said “Now God is living amongst us and all local people will accept him as their Lord.  God will wipe away the tears caused by poverty and family breakdowns.  There will be no more AIDS or government corruption, there will be no more sick people or children dying.  These old things have passed away.”  God said “I am making everything new!  There will be no more lying or fornication!  I am the beginning and the end.  Anyone who even asks me for peace in their towns or an honest local government I will give it to him.  There will be no more suffering.”

The young people then went back into their groups with the task of finding practical ways that they could implement this new community; could they feed the hungry?  Could they stop corruption?  Many wanted to be pastors and preach the Good News and most put prayer as an important factor in changing their communities.  It was quite difficult to help the youth to think about practical things that they could also do to change their communities, and show them the Good News.

By the time I came to the end of my talk at about 5pm, I could hear a few stomachs rumbling and could smell the beans and Cassava waiting outside so I asked someone to lead us in a song to finish.  As with young people the world over, when it comes to music they really come alive!  The harmonies and energy brought about through the few songs were astounding, especially as they were singing on empty stomachs!  Even Samuel hung very still on my back and listened intently.  I closed in prayer, asking that God will enable these young people to identify their roles in their churches and be able to make those changes that need to happen in their communities in order that God’s Kingdom might come in those places.

Recent events in the UK have highlighted the importance of inspiring young people and giving them a secure grounding in their faith.  The work that is done with the youth here in the district of Kasese is of vital importance for raising up the next generation of Christian leaders.  It is a privilege to have been asked to play a small part in the Baptist Union of Uganda’s youth program, which will feature a much larger youth conference in January 2012 on the Uganda/DRC border.