9 Things You Can't Do In Uganda

A few days ago James happened across an article that shared a number of things you can’t do in Uganda. The author had followed up a few days later with another list of things he’d missed the first time.

It could be the “can’t do” list is regional, because, as James and I talked, we disagreed with some of them. For instance, bodas frequently park in car parking spots in our town. In fact, they will fill every available parking space and leave no room for other vehicles.

Don’t get me wrong, Uganda is quite the libertarian state — in some respects. In others, you’d better tow the line.

We’ve seen:

  • 10+ people crowded into a 4 door sedan that shouldn’t seat more than 5 or 6.
  • Women holding their baby on their lap while they ride in the front seat of said sedan.
  • Women riding “side saddle” on a boda (motorcycle taxi) with a tiny baby tied on her back, suspended over nothing but air.
  • “Scaffolding” next to a 4 story building made of nothing but poles nailed to each other until they are tall enough, with boards balanced on top for the workers to stand on.
  • Marijuana growing by the side of the road.
  • Huge bonfires started, well, pretty much anywhere something needed to be burned.
  • A herd of cows grazing in the local golf course green.
  • Any number of livestock kept in and around a person’s property (including but not limited to: cows, goats, sheep, ducks, chickens, and turkeys).
  • No permit needed for any modification to property. If you want to change your house or property, hire the workers, buy the supplies, and do it.
  • Bars next door to schools and in residential areas. (We had to move houses because a bar opened across the road from us.)
  • People, both men and women, urinating by the side of the road.
  • Trash – like whole bags of it – thrown out along all the roadways because there are no littering laws or fines.

You don’t need a license to drive a car or motorcycle.

You don’t need a permit to carry a gun if you are a security guard. Once, while on a run, a security guard on a boda went past. The boda driver lost control of his bike and laid it down in the road. The guard, carrying an AK-47, tumbled into the road and the gun fell apart, but didn’t discharge. (Thank God!)

We made our own list, and, while we borrowed from the other one, we included several of our own things in the list.

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1. Carry things not in a bag

I can’t even tell you the number of times I’ve gotten funny looks because I told the clerk I didn’t want a bag or that I would put the (small) item in my purse. Once, I bought an irregularly shaped, large item. Before giving me my balance, the clerk got up and left, then returned with an overlarge bag into which she struggled to put the item. I stopped her and told her I could carry it out to the car. She gave me a funny look and kept putting it in the bag. I let her. The thing must be put in a bag.

Every now and then, Uganda will ban plastic shopping bags. The ban never sticks. I personally think it’s because people feel they haven’t shopped if they don’t have their item in a bag. (We’ve invested in reusable cloth grocery bags and I use them for almost all my shopping. The shopkeepers in the stores we frequent have learned to expect me to hand them my own bag.)

2. Go anywhere in the rain

No one goes anywhere when it rains in Uganda. I used to think this was weird. Then I tried to go somewhere in the rain. Truth is, when I left home it wasn’t raining. I’d told James I’d meet him in town after he finished an errand in the car. I no sooner reached town than the heavens opened. That’s when I realized why no one goes anywhere in the rain. 

First of all, all the bodas in the country must be made of sugar, because their owners park them up on the pedestrian sidewalk under the awnings and out of the rain. Which means none of the pedestrians can walk under the awnings. Which then means that said pedestrian must walk out in the downpour while the boda drivers laugh at them for doing it. Yeah…

Next, the roads turn into a river, making them completely impassible. Dirt roads become slick, muddy swamps and are treacherous to navigate.

We’ve learned not to go anywhere in the rain and not to expect anyone else to, either. The first time someone asked me to go somewhere when it was raining in the US, I was horrified. “But it’s raining!” I said. “Yeah. So?” they replied. “But you don’t go anywhere in the rain!” I caught myself before I said that and realized I’d adapted to at least that part of the culture here in Uganda.

3. Eat or drink while walking

You can’t imagine the looks you’ll get if you carry, say, a travel coffee mug, or a bottle of water (not in a bag) while walking places. People look at you like you have two heads or an extra arm. Why would you ever want something to drink while moving around?

A good friend who used to live here regularly came to my house carrying a mug of coffee with her. We’d laugh together at the funny looks she got. 

Drinking (or eating) should be done inside or while sitting. You carry that food or drink with you to your destination in a bag. That’s just the way it is. 

4. Be poor and steal

A couple weeks ago, we were at the Wednesday Rwebikoona market shopping for produce. Out of the crowd, we heard cries of “thief! thief!” A knot of people ran toward us. Some of the men carried poles as tall as I am and as thick as my arm, with which they flogged a man in the center of the knot. Others slapped the man, open palmed, and beat him about the head with their fists.

He’d stolen a small beaded purse.

This isn’t the only time we’ve seen this happen. I saw something similar happen in another market and still another time on the road outside our house.

But, while these people were nearly beaten to death for stealing something small, the executives of the local power company stole so much money that the company almost went out of business. Three chain grocery stores have closed here in Uganda because their executives took all the profits and didn’t pay their bills. The telecom in our country is in bankruptcy for the same reason.

Where are these rich thieves? Living it up with their stolen goods in another country. 

So, the only time thievery matters is if you are poor and get caught doing it.

5. Talk about money

Ugandans don’t talk about money. They will hedge on the price of things or make their way around asking for fair wages. They will employ any and all methods of diversion to avoid stating an amount. A Ugandan will blush, refuse to meet your eye, and sometimes get up and leave rather than coming out and stating what they want. As an American of German heritage, this feels like deception to me. I feel like they are trying to fleece me out of money. I prefer open, honest negotiation and I’m pretty good at it, too. 

We’ve managed to learn ways to talk about money with people like employees and our landlord. Marketing is easier because the vendors want your money. But if you’re buying a large item from a shop in town, the shopkeeper will try to make the hard sell before telling you the price. The best way to respond when they inform you of the doubled price and try to make it sound like a bargain is to laugh. Hard. And walk away. They usually come down to something more reasonable once they figure out you aren’t a newbie to the whole negotiation process.

6. Wear ugly shoes

I love shoes. I’m the first to admit it. But I also like practical shoes, shoes appropriate for the situation. Before we came to Uganda, I got a nice pair of hiking shoes, thinking they’d be perfect for navigating the rough dirt roads common to our area. One day, it had rained all morning and I needed to go to town that afternoon. The roads were still muddy so I decided to wear my hiking shoes.

I kid you not, total strangers stopped me to tell me I should not have worn those shoes. More than one of them.

I didn’t wear them to town again, but one day decided to wear them to the market, again after a rain. Again, total strangers told me I shouldn’t have worn the shoes.

I’ve managed to find a happy medium. I try to find shoes with cute tops and sturdy soles. No more comments from strangers. 

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7. Carry a baby in a carrier on the front of your body

The women here wear their babies tied to their backs. Even tiny girls learn how to carry siblings this way. I’ve always thought it looked uncomfortable. I invested in a sling carrier for my youngest baby, born here about a year after we arrived. Every time I carried her to town that way, someone stopped me and told me I was breaking her back and that I shouldn’t do it that way.

(They also frequently told me when she was hungry, and that she was cold because she only had on a jacket, not layer upon layer of warm clothing and thick blankets.)

8. Be Gay

Uganda has some of the strictest laws against homosexuality that I’ve ever heard of anywhere. I’m thankful for the stand that this country has taken, even against other countries trying to force them to change. 

That said, this law can come across as hypocritical. Prostitution, fornication, and adultery are rampant. Girls are not allowed to say “no” to men who demand sexual favors. Men, even supposed men of God, have “side dishes,” or women with whom they commit adultery. Women, even church women, will earn extra money on the side by gratifying men. The only time it ever becomes a problem is if the offenders are caught in the act. 

In their defense, the government has done a widespread abstinence campaign. I’m not sure how well it has worked thus far, though they are reporting their AIDS cases having decreased significantly in the last few years.

9. Confront anyone about anything

Ugandans do NOT like confrontation. If you want to confront a Ugandan about anything, you have to talk to other people first and hope the problem gets back to them so they know you have a problem. If you force them to sit down and talk about the problem, they will talk about a multitude of other problems they have first before talking about the issue at hand. It makes dealing with interpersonal relationship conflicts both challenging and time consuming and sometimes you don’t even know if the problem was solved.

When confronted, they will sulk, deny the problem, avoid eye contact, change the subject, accuse someone else of something to deflect the focus off the problem at hand. Worst case, they will get up and leave in anger. 

Americans, especially Christians, generally don’t deal with things this way. We face problems head on. We prefer to go to the person with whom we have a problem and talk to them directly. This preference does not play nice with the general culture here on problem solving and interpersonal relationship conflict. 

I’m sure there are things I’m missing here, too. Maybe I’ll have to revisit this issue at some point in the future. But I hope this gives you another small glimpse into life here. If there is something you want to know, feel free to leave a comment or contact me with the question and I’d be happy to try to answer!

We pass a Mosque on Masaka Road on the way to Kampala. It’s a fairly new building, built since we arrived in Uganda. But they skimped a little on construction.

The result is that 5 times a day, a man has to climb the ladder seen in this picture to deliver the Muslim prayer call. Two of those times are in the dark.

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I’m pretty sure this is either a great act of (misplaced) faith or another reason that women live longer than men. You can decide which it is.

(Sorry for the wonky picture. I took it while we were driving and a hundredth of a second before a truck came by the other way and blocked my shot. It isn’t well centered and you get too much road and car portions and the bill of James’ ball cap. If you look at the very top of the picture, you can see the platform onto which the man climbs when he delivers the prayer call.)

Kampala is the capital of Uganda. It’s a large, sprawling city that houses several million people. 

We avoid going to Kampala unless absolutely necessary. The last time we went was in October last year. We drove there and back the same day — more than 8 hours of drive time total. We had to get our residency visas and Kampala is the only place you can do it.

In fact, if you want to get any kind of paperwork done, you have to travel to Kampala for it. It would be like an American having to travel to Washington DC if they wanted to apply for a passport or driver’s license.

This trip was to renew our passports which will expire in a few months.

Trips to Kampala are always interesting. The most frustrating part of the trip is the traffic. You’ll spend hours in traffic, which doesn’t usually look like traffic in the US.

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Sometimes the “traffic” is cattle crossing the main highway.

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Bodas (motorcycle taxis) rarely follow normal traffic laws or patterns and the police ignore them. These guys were driving the wrong way up the road right next to us.

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Vehicles will pack people in wherever they fit. 

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Sure enough, there was a guy dragging his goats right through the middle of traffic on one of the busiest roads in Kampala. At one point the black goat refused to walk and the guy dragged it along by the rope until he got past a car. Then he unceremoniously grabbed the goat by the tail and set it on its feet and made it walk again.

I have no pictures of our time at the US Embassy. Photography is not allowed. Neither are any electronic devices. And by electronic devices, I mean anything with wiring or circuitry. We didn’t know about this ahead of time. There was a niggling little voice at the back of my mind that said “We should take paper books for everyone to read” (the prompting of the Holy Spirit? probably!) but I ignored it. They weren’t even going to let us wear watches but I put my foot down. I reminded them we were US citizens, that we’d cooperated so far, but that the rules were starting to feel like harassment and they were just watches. They backed down and didn’t make us take them off.

Not that it helped. They really are just watches. We had to go inside, facing down a 2 hour wait, with nothing to do but sit and watch CNN on the TV in the waiting room. Kinda makes you want to dig out your ear drums with a spoon. :-/ 

Thankfully, once they got us in for our passport appointments, they moved us through fast. We were done in less than an hour. 

We’d gotten passport photos taken in Mbarara a few days before we had our appointment. Uganda passport photos aren’t the same size as US passport photos. James gave the man here in town the dimensions and he followed the directions but the man processing our applications at the embassy wouldn’t accept them. The background had come out with a blue hue instead of the white/off white they wanted. We didn’t realize this until we got there. We had to get them taken again.

They directed us to a place about a kilometer up the road, where we all got our photo taken again. Then I took the kids to a cafe across the road from the photo shop while James waited for the pictures and then took them back to the embassy. 

We do try to make the trip fun as much as we can. James found a lovely guest house for us to stay at that has a family suite with nice bathrooms, a huge park-like yard, and a playground for the kids. We also try to take advantage of food options there that we don’t have here — like Chinese food (that I don’t have to make from scratch), and

:drumroll:

NACHOS!!!!

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The sweet and sour chicken wasn’t quite as good as what I make at home, but it was close. 😉 We all enjoyed it.

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Those plates of nachos were so big, we had leftovers. But who’s going to say “no” to leftover nachos?

I’m always happy and relieved to come home to our city on the mountain, where even the worst traffic can’t come close to the bumper-to-bumper-and-everywhere-in-between traffic we experience in Kampala. Our house. Our beds. Our places and people. What more could a person want?

They’ve been putting up a building in town for the last several months. We’ve watched the progress with interest and much speculation about what the building would house.

They hung the sign on the building this week. Guess what? It’s the Amazon Building! Amazon is coming to Mbarara!

😉

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We’re not getting our hopes up that it’s THE Amazon coming to Africa. That would be nice, but not very likely.

(Don’t you love the scaffolding on the side of that thing? Sitting on the balcony, no cross supports to speak of. The men at the top are standing 50+ feet in the air on a couple boards. That’s it. Yep, no OSHA here!)

We’d been planning for the dedication at Ngarama for weeks. Folks from the church passed out 500 invitations to the community. They insisted 500 people would show up. That made me nervous. I couldn’t imagine 500 people crammed onto the land there by the church.

We planned for a simple service: a chance to greet the guests who came, a short message, a baptism, a snack of soda and biscuits, and show the Jesus film in Kinyarwanda. We also planned for it to begin at 10AM. We’d be done before it got too hot.

We forgot to buy the biscuits in town during the week so we left early the morning of the dedication and stopped by Vicky’s (a local wholesaler) to get them. He was already opened when we arrived. We drove up, bought the biscuits and left in about 10 minutes. 

We arrived in Ngarama at 9:30AM. A number of men from the church and several from Sangano were putting up poles to make a tarp tent.

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Once they’d gotten a few poles into the ground, they started tying up the tarps.

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By the time they had four tarps tied to the poles, it was 11AM. 

Things don’t always run on the same timetable here that they do in the States. At 11AM no one from the community had arrived except those who were helping prepare and a few people from the churches at Isanja and Sangano. 

No sooner had they secured those four tarps but a HUGE gust of wind came up. We could see its approach across the valley. Zizi saw it and said “Look, there it comes. It’s going to hit us.” Then it did. Like a brick wall. The tarps snapped up into the air and then back down hard. Two of the tarps broke loose from their ties. One of those shredded completely down one side. The men rushed to secure them again, but we were losing time.

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We switched gears and set up inside the church. We filled it with benches from the front to the very back. Then we began singing hymns. People began to trickle in. The church filled. And filled. And filled. 

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Pretty soon we ran out of room for the children. They all went outside to sit on benches under the tarps the men had fixed to the posts. One of Zizi’s daughters led them in singing, taught a memory verse and played games with them. My kids helped with crowd control.

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Many visitors came from the community. They introduced themselves. James gave a short sermon that included the gospel message.

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Then we all went outside for a baptism service.

The first lady to be baptized was named Esperanza. She is 105 years old. She’s never been able to come to our services at Sangano because she can’t make the trip on the truck. There was almost 100 years difference in age between her and the youngest person to be baptized.

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The choir from Sangano sang a special. Then we served some refreshments. By this time it was 2PM and getting hot. The steady breeze helped, but barely made a dent inside the packed church. Almost 200 bodies crowded into that space warms up fast whether there is a breeze or not.

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The last event for the day was showing the Jesus film.

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People seemed to enjoy it but our speaker wasn’t loud enough for those in the back to hear. We got about half through. The combination of the heat and the long day and the speaker not working made people restless. Around 4PM, James decided to stop playing it and release everyone. We’re going to attempt to find a better speaker and set a time to show it where that is the only activity for the day.

Our best estimate for attendance is about 350 people between the adults and children. It wasn’t the 500 they expected but I don’t thing we could have fit any more than the ones who came.

It’s so exciting to see how God is already using the new church building in this community. The old building would never have held this many people, nor would we have been able to even attempt showing the movie. We were able to meet people we never would have before. This is only the beginning of how God is going to work here.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Valentines Day isn’t celebrated the same in Uganda as it is in the US. In the US, as soon as Christmas is finished, stores put out their Valentine’s Day goods. The holiday is everywhere you look. The pressure is there for both those in relationships and those who don’t have a Valentine.

It’s easy to forget about Valentine’s Day in Uganda. When we first arrived, if stores got any gifts at all, they were difficult to find, hidden away on the corner of a shelf. The day would come and go and you’d find the items and wonder if they’d been intended for Valentine’s Day. Most of the time we couldn’t find any roses at all. In a fit of annoyance one year, James went to a nursery and bought a bunch of rose bushes for our yard. Now we get roses year round.

Today, a few years later, stores get the gifts sooner, but we still don’t see them on the shelves until a week or two before the holiday. They are small, often generic, type gifts.

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We plan ahead for Valentine’s Day. Last year we stocked up on chocolates and brought them back with us in our luggage.

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We had a special breakfast and a special supper and James and I went to town for lunch. There is a new-to-us restaurant in town called Curry in a Hurry.

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They really do bring that food out to you in a hurry! It’s almost as fast as ordering in an American restaurant! I love Indian food and have my meal already chosen for the next several visits. 😉

One of the local hotels is holding a Valentine’s Day concert. They’ve been advertising it for the last couple weeks with huge speaker trucks driving around blasting music and advertisements for the event. It’s not exactly the way you’d celebrate the day in the US, but I can’t blame the hotel for trying to capitalize on the holiday.

Worst of all? No discount chocolate after the holiday. Tomorrow, they’ll pack up the Valentine’s Day gifts and pack them away for next year.

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A couple weeks ago, we attended the 25th Anniversary celebration of some friends of ours here. They had a pastor from another town come and preach. His message was fantastic. I learned something new that day:

The oldest part of the sugar cane is the sweetest.

This fact made me consider: Have I gotten sweeter, more loving, as I’ve gotten older?

Have you?

We’ve all seen them, people with more life experience than we have who are grumpy and bitter and refuse to be kind to others. 

The truth is, Love is a Choice. 

We choose if we will be loving and considerate to others. We choose how we will respond when others hurt or offend us. We choose to grow in either love or bitterness through our life experiences.

How can we learn this? How can we grow in sweetness and love as we get older?

1. We obey Christ’s command to love one another.

Jesus said: By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples if ye have love one to another. (John 13:35)

This command seems simple enough. Love other believers. But it takes daily effort and a daily choice to do it. Sometimes it’s a simple matter of choosing to respond with grace to family member who is annoying you. Other times, other believers say or do things that are horrible and offensive. We still have to respond with love.

2. We walk in the Spirit.

Galatians 5:16 says “This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh.”

Then, the very first fruit of the Spirit given in Galatians 5:22 is love. The Holy Spirit enables us to respond with love (instead of envying and strife) to those around us.

3. We abide in Christ.

John 15 4 says “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me.”

And then my favorite verse in the Bible: 

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There is no way, in our own strength, to respond with love and grace to the things that happen. There is no way for us to grow sweeter as we grow older on our own. The only way we can have this lasting fruit of the Spirit, is to abide in Christ. 

But, like the sugar cane, if we abide in our vine, Christ, we don’t have to struggle to grow sweeter, we don’t have to work for it, we don’t have to fight for each correct response. All we have to do it abide and the sweet fruit of Love will be a natural byproduct.

It’s that simple. It’s that hard.

And so, this Valentines Day, remember the sugar cane. Choose love, Choose to grow sweeter as you get older.

Choose to abide in Christ.

What would you do if you walked into the kitchen and discovered your husband had left one of these on the counter? 😉 

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In reality, getting a pig takes planning and forethought. It’s a huge, two day process and involves giving up most of my refrigerator space. We start planning for it a couple weeks in advance.

Not long after we arrived in Uganda, we discovered that obtaining pork products was challenging. Yes, people here eat pork. They don’t, however, eat it like Americans who have made the consumption of pork products an art form. We can’t get sausage or ham. We can get small breakfast sausage type things, but the meat doesn’t resemble anything I’m familiar with. We can also get pork on a stick — roasted over an open fire in the evenings. It’s tough and usually full of bones.

We brought the necessary supplies (a meat grinder attachment for our Bosch kitchen machine, and sausage seasonings and casings)  back with us from the States. 

James heads to the Western Market to get the pig. All livestock is slaughtered in a slaughterhouse where it is inspected for disease or other problems. Then they bring it to the market where people break it down for sale. We got the whole pig this time. They took off the head and shaved it.

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Then they gutted it.

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Finally, they weighed it and charged us the hanging weight.

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James brought it home, where we’d set up the kitchen so he could break it down. We have a special saw and fillet knives. James has kevlar gloves to protect his hands from the sharp blades. He and the boys spent several hours breaking down the meat into usable portions. The bones all went into a huge stock pot we use to make bone broth. He saved out ham bones for ham and beans — a family favorite. The rest of the meat went into the fridge to cool overnight. (The carcass was still warm when he got it home. Oh.the.horror.) 

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The following day, James and the boys work with the chilled meat and make it into all sorts of good things. Well, they’ll be good once they are cooked. They put the meat through the grinder, then mix in the necessary spices. Bulk sausage is bagged and frozen. The rest of the sausage is put back through the grinder and fed into the sausage casings for bratwurst. 

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Last, but definitely not least, the finished product is stored in the freezer so we don’t have to do this again for several months.

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Where am I during this process? I don’t handle the raw meat well. It looks to me like a giant ball of salmonella or botulism and the smell makes me queazy. I’ve tried, I really have. But they all took offense to me following them around with the bottle of sanitizing spray. So I stay away and let them work. I try very hard not to think about what they are doing and where they might be tracking meat and blood in the rest of the house and I try even harder not to freak out when I do, indeed, think about it.

When they are finished, they clean the kitchen from top to bottom. So I get a freezer full of meat and a super clean kitchen out of the deal. Win win for me! 😀

We followed this lorry full of chairs from a party and noticed there was a man perched on top of it all. He talked away on his cell phone, never noticing that at times his head barely cleared the power lines over the road.

Do you think he was trying for a better signal?

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“Can you hear me now?”

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The building at Ngarama is completely finished, including a fresh coat of paint and the name of the church on its side. It boasts its own baptistry and a fancy new toilet with two stalls for women and two for men. 

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A couple years ago we shipped a container full of books we’d collected from all over the US. Our goal was to build a library at Sangano and stock it with books. Bro. Bassett built the library building before they moved back to the states, then we began carrying books out there as soon as they arrived. Bro. Tom Tracht built a school at the church in Sangano. It has over 300 children in attendance every day. We’re working to sort more books into each of the grade levels, which we’ll then stock in the classrooms. It’s a long process and we still have many boxes of books to sort.

Another goal we had was to create a mini library at each church. We were finally able to begin this project at Ngarama. The second week of January, we started sorting through books in our personal library. We’d accumulated quite a few over the years and we weren’t using nearly all of them. We didn’t need some of them anymore — maybe we had digital copies or the children had outgrown them. Whatever the reason, we were able to clear the books from 3 bookshelves.

We took those bookshelves and dropped them off at Ngarama a week ago yesterday. We also carried a couple bins of books out there and discovered we could bring quite a few more bins before the shelves would be full. This week, we carried four more bins and still didn’t fill the shelves.

The children always struggle to sit in church, so this week we spread the mats in the back and passed out books for them to look at. It kept them quiet for most of the service. Brennah sat in the middle of the group and whisper read books to as many as would huddle around her. One of the little girls told me (in Swahili) “She’s teaching me how to read!”

I can see we’re going to need to keep all the churches well supplied with children’s books — not a problem since we have many of those.

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