Saturday, August 23, 2014

EYO Outreach in Yumbe


Geoff and the EYO team left last Sunday at 6 a.m. to travel to the northwestern corner of Uganda. It took them 12 hours to arrive in the Yumbe district. 

They have spent this week in numerous activities and have experienced a wide array of emotions. 

Excitement: The outreach for which they had prayed, planned, studied, memorized scripture, fund-raised, and packed was finally upon them. Many turned out to pray with them and wave them off as their bus drove away for a very full week.

Fear: The first day upon them, many struggled with the fear of the unknown. How will the community receive us? As the week went on they became more confident as they experienced more friendliness than expected. But, in the evenings when they showed the “Jesus Film” there was unruly behavior--a lot of drug and alcohol use among the community youth, and belligerent shouting during evening events. 

Joy: One of their daytime activities was to visit people in their homes. During some of these visits in which the kids took time to share the love of God and good news of Jesus’ sacrifice for salvation, four people came to understand the great work of Jesus and gave their lives to Him.

Weariness: Up early every morning, digging in the community either for gardening work or making rubbish pits; cooking, organizing and playing daily football matches, hosting the Jesus Film or praying with community church members each evening until after 10 p.m. made for very tired kids and adults! Often Geoff texted me after 10 saying they were just sitting down to supper! The next text came before 7 each morning.

Thankfulness: It has been a faith-building, strengthening, eye-opening, stretching, life-changing week. They are thankful they have been able to serve others by ministering at the hospital, secondary school, homes of the elderly, in the church, among the young children through VBS, with many community youth through a week-long football competition, spending time in the homes of community members, and showing the “Jesus Film” to more than 800 people. 

Tomorrow they will leave around noon, after the church service in Yumbe, to travel back to Kasana. Please pray for their travels and their hearts. What God had planned to do this week has been accomplished. May they EYO team realize the privilege they have had to participate in God’s work in the Yumbe district!

Thank you for praying for them. God has been faithful!







Monday, August 18, 2014

Update on Aunt Ketty's Cancer Journey


We’ve just welcomed Aunt Ketty home again. BUT, not from Nairobi!  She has only been away four days in Kampala!

Our hopes for completing her treatment in Kampala have finally materialized into reality!

Just three weeks ago Ketty was able to fly home from her second round of chemo and radiation in Nairobi because a generous, dedicated donor marked the funds specifically for the flight. We had received excellent care and two rounds of chemo and radiation by wonderful nurses and doctors at MP Shah hospital. We were cared for and catered to by a tremendous staff at a Christian guest house in Nairobi, and now we are back HOME receiving exactly what Ketty needs!!!

Just two weeks ago, those of us who are helping to manage Ketty's care met with Ketty and Okoth to discuss the way forward. We had been praying for God to show us which way to pursue and He began immediately to reveal the intricate weaving of his plan. 

Having been home from Nairobi just one week when we all met together, she was already getting stronger each day and was anxious to get chemo started. The Nairobi staff had set her next appointment for September 1st, but she was not comfortable waiting that long for the next phase of her treatment (neither were we).

Ketty shared her heart with us that she truly didn't want to return to Nairobi and be away from her family. We reiterated that such was our first and strongest desire as well. But, where to go in Kampala? Was there even an option open to us? Were there any doctors giving chemo outside of the large government hospital where we had attempted treatment, without success, back in April? Most of us who left that meeting left with some sort of research assignment.

Geoff called upon a friend who now works in Kampala, but had worked for years at Kiwoko hospital. His request was simple, "Can you help us to understand our options for Ketty to receive chemo in-country?"  Shortly after our committee meeting with the Okoth's, in which we had all prayed for an in-country doctor, full of humility and willing to pick up where we left off from Nairobi, our friend called back with the name of an oncologist who administers chemotherapy from the International Hospital in Kampala!

A week ago Friday Geoff, Ketty and I met with Dr. Omoding, a humble, Christian man willing to pick up where we left off in Nairobi. He was gracious and thorough and wanted to start chemo the following week! In addition, his chemo choice is the most up-to-date regimen for esophageal cancer!

Last Monday, in preparation for chemo on Wednesday,  Ketty went in with her daughter and had the necessary blood work and a couple of other helpful pre-therapy tests completed. When we returned on Wednesday, unfortunately the red blood count report showed she was too low to receive chemo and instead she was admitted for a transfusion. Being that we arrived on the ward near shift change, they waited to start until after 9 p.m. After 9 p.m. turned into 1:30 a.m. as, when they hung the blood, Ketty noticed it was not her O+ blood type and asked the nurse to stop. The nurse reran the type and cross match again from the tubes used in the earlier draw and confirmed A+. A third and completely new draw and third type and cross match revealed indeed Ketty is A+. She had been typed O+ a few years ago at another medical clinic in Kampala. Thank the good Lord for the diligence and dedication to accuracy here at the International Hospital!

During our time of waiting for the blood transfusion, I asked her what kind of foods she eats often or likes most. She included liver, ground nuts, eggs, millet porridge with milk, and chicken. When the cafeteria representative arrived and told her the options for meals Ketty smiled when she realized she would be receiving liver for supper, millet and eggs for breakfast, and chicken for lunch! God is the perfect provider! She is strong and eating very well. 

Though a broken radiation machine--currently the only machine in Uganda--was the catalyst for sending us to Nairobi in the first place, our heart’s desire to have her near her family has never waned. Now that the radiation portion of her treatment is completed, we are thankful that God led us to a doctor we didn’t know existed when we started this journey!

Here we are three weeks earlier than the intended start date projected by Nairobi and she’s already receiving a harder hitting and more effective chemo than originally planned!

God's timing and orchestration is beautiful and beyond what we could arrange ourselves.

God is GOOD!

Without the guesthouse accommodation fees and travel costs to and from Nairobi, we will be able to treat Ketty here for much less of a financial investment as far as those two entities are concerned. 

Thank you for standing with her and the entire family in prayer and financial support.

As we move forward in this journey, given the nature of a patient receiving chemo, any fever of 37.5C or above is considered an emergency requiring blood work and a possible jaunt into Kampala. 

Here in are two important prayer requests: that she have no fevers during her treatment and that she will not require hospitalization from this point forward in the treatment cycles! 

Usually, chemo does not require an admittance. It is the need for a blood transfusion this time which required her being admitted. I spoke with the oncologist yesterday and asked if for the following courses of chemo we could check her red blood count from Kiwoko, possibly even receive a transfusion from Kiwoko if necessary, and only travel into Kampala for the chemo administration. He agreed that was possible.

I made such requests of the doctor as we had to jump through quite a few hurdles this week when we found out her hemoglobin was too low for chemotherapy. The admission meant I could not attend to her in the hospital as there was no bed for me to sleep in next to her. It meant two extra nights in a guest house. It also took much longer than I expected for her to receive the two units of blood (more than 24 hours as they split the infusions more than 12 hours apart.) Together we arrived around 6 p.m. to the guest house on Thursday evening after the final blood transfusion ended late enough that the delay ensured we would have to wait until Friday for the chemotherapy infusion.

We arrived bright and early at the hospital Friday morning and found her hemoglobin well above the doctor’s set parameter of 10--she was 13.2!! However, another delay meant she waited from 10 a.m. until 3 p.m. before the chemo was actually started. I had left her with Aunt Lucy as I needed to get back home to attend to my own family. She and Lucy arrived back at the guest house just short of 9 p.m. Friday night. All the waiting made for a very long day. 


Me, Ketty and Lucy at IHK on Friday morning

Having her back home in Kasana is a real blessing! Her first follow-up appointment as a part of this first round of treatment will be toward the end of this week.

The projected ending date of her sixth and final chemo treatment is the week before Christmas.

Home for Christmas! Hallelujah!

Blessings, thanks and appreciation to all of you!

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

So Many Experiences, So Much to Process

As an expat in Uganda, it is imperative that I enter each day remembering that I live not only in Uganda, I live in the land of "Things are not as they seem."

Cultural differences.
Language differences.
Worldview differences.
Each one is a variable contributing to the fluid definition of "seem."

It's a forum ripe for fumbling and faux pas-ing if I may say so myself.

I was in Kampala on Monday.

Let's get one thing clear, I DO NOT drive in Kampala. Not because I don't know how to drive, but because all those OTHER people don't know how to drive! Banange.

Of course, not all of the chaos is their fault. What is one to do with no lines on the road?Still, when the biggest vehicle or boldest driver gets the go, I feel vulnerable amidst the discombobulated mess and frequent close calls to our bumper. Of course, it seems necessary that there should be four lines of traffic where the width only allows SAFELY for two, because everyone wants to go first and fast. Scary Monsters. Some days I can manage to sit in the passenger seat in a calm fashion, most days are not that way.

I believe I heard a statistic, perhaps tongue-in-cheek, but I completely assume it is true--most missionary deaths are not caused by violence, persecution, illness, snake or other vermin bites, but by road accidents. Keeping that statistic firm in my memory probably doesn't help my peace level while moving about in Kampala. Nevertheless, I survived Kampala on Monday, both physically and emotionally.

Our driver that day is a wonderful young man whom Geoff chose to drive the kids and I in to do some errands and visit with dear friends, the Brown's. This young man finished our mechanics course a few years ago, successfully secured his driving license and has been diligently looking to find work to fine tune his driving experience. To say that I was happy to give him an opportunity would be a true statement. To also say that I had some reservations about how the day would go would also be true.

He comes from the village and doesn't know Kampala well. I typically don't move around as much in Kampala as Geoff does, but I suddenly realized this young man was leaning on me for directions. I studied the maps, talked him through the movements and with only a few slip ups we got everywhere we planned to go.

We just didn't make it there in the order we had planned.

Herein lies the language difference and the cultural difference. What I said wasn't always heard. Why I wanted to do what I wanted to do wasn't always comprehended. So, when I said "we want to go to that big orange building up there," he replied, "Yes, Aunt." When I said, "turn beyond the building," chaos ensued. He only heard "orange building," no other directions. I'm guessing he tried to turn at the first road because. . . it was there. When I directed him to the next road, he first tried to turn into a small parking lot. Finally, at the correct road he simply drove right on past. Not sure why, but in the land of "things are not as they seem," "turn here" must mean "go forward." So, we scrapped that errand and "went forward" to another mall with similar shops to what we needed.

At the next junction, same problem, different details. Not sure if this one is a cultural, worldview or "roadview" difference, but "turn left here" apparently meant "get in the right lane to make a left hand turn." To be fair, he simply doesn't know Kampala or which direction in town the places were located, so having looked at the map didn't translate to real road position for him. However, not to let him completely off the hook, it is common for Ugandan drivers to make a left hand turn from the right lane. It is also common for people to make their own lane in order to do this. Frequently as common is for oncoming traffic to make their own lane due to impatience with the blockage created. Hence, the 2-lane, unlined road becomes 4+ and no one can move.

There is a saying in Africa that can be frequently seen on T-shirts in the souvenir and craft shops, "No Hurry In Africa." Don't let them fool you, it does not apply to driving. In Uganda, there is considerable virtue in the ability to move slowly, as well as to not confront, EXCEPT when driving. Put a Ugandan in a car and suddenly a rapid pace ensues, complete with impatience, selfishness, and a strong show of confrontation to  whomever blocks the way of the car.

This is what happened on the way home. We attempted to cut some time off of our journey home (which started later than I wanted because time is irrelevant here and "I'm coming soon, Aunt" doesn't mean what you think it means.)

"Soon," to a Ugandan is a completely different animal than "soon" to someone in the west. "I'm coming," is also usually said as the person is walking AWAY from you. I've observed countless times that Ugandans cut out that smoothing over tactic we use in our language, for instance, "I'll be right back," what a westerner would say, softens the fact that someone is leaving your presence. Ugandans skip directly to "I'm coming" to maintain harmony, but in actual fact the opposite is happening.

Just for informational purposes at this point, "I'm coming" may not even mean that same day. I have literally been standing IN KAMPALA next to a person on the cell phone telling the listener, "I've just reached the nearby village, I'm coming," as he stands in a line that has a clear wait of more than an hour, in the city that is hours away from said village. He is not even in a vehicle moving, yet! Why the person on the other line believes what they've just been told, I'll never understand. I just had a thought--they probably don't believe what the person is saying, but are accustomed to waiting for the visitor for lengthy amounts of time. In eight years of living here, I have to admit I now rarely take it as word, either. To be honest, when someone shows up at the time they indicated, I'm surprised. I also no longer break out in a sweat when quite some time past the designated appointment rolls by without a knock on the door.

ANYWAY, back to our day in Kampala, trying to enter the short cut took us almost 30 minutes. Then trying to navigate the short cut was impossible when 4 un-signaled roads converged and drivers in all 4 directions saw their need to go first as a priority--creating a frustrating 40 minute stalemate. After about 30 minutes some random guy began walking through the jam giving his own directions to each vehicle, but no one listened to him. So much for the "short" cut.

Once on the straight away, we made it to Luweero, 18 km from our home, in about one hour. As we finished driving through their weekly market, complete with produce and other items strewn all about the roadway, dodging motorbikes, bicycles, pedestrians, chickens, cows, goats, large lorries and small pick ups, our driver announced that he had wanted to buy some passion. (He meant "passion fruit.") I simply said, "Oh, I'm sorry," indicating that there was no way I was going to make another foray into that mess. Why he waited to say something until after we'd passed all the fruit vendors, I'll never know. We made it home, but not as early as we had hoped!

Another interesting cultural observation is time keeping or the lack thereof. Because New Hope is a culture blend of many different tribes in Uganda as well as many different westerners, we tend to have better success with starting things closer to the time it was slated to start. In the village? Not so much.

When someone arranges a time to meet with you, realize first that an actual time choice is unusual. BUT, if they do indicate a time realize also that they have a range of 59 minutes to fulfill their commitment to meet you. "I'm coming at 5," doesn't mean what you think it means. Why? because 5:00 is anywhere from 5:00 to 5:59.

Most often you will not be given a time, but will only be told, "I'm coming on Saturday," with no indication as to what time of day that might be. And truthfully, out here in the village there doesn't need to be one. Everyone knows that everyone goes to work in their garden in the early morning until sometimes even 1 or 2 p.m. Upon reaching home they start a fire, cook lunch and rest. Visiting usually happens after that. Being that lunch has been consumed around 3 or 4 p.m. visiting hours are ripe between 5 and 7 p.m. as no one usually eats supper before 8 or 9 p.m. anyway. I can't remember how many times new staff have landed on us during our supper time at the 6 o'clock hour and have laughed. "You're eating NOW? Don't you get hungry at midnight?" to which I answer, "No, we're sleeping at midnight. I don't wake up wondering if I'm hungry or not."

Two Saturday's ago I received a visitor. I wasn't sure she was coming that day because her words had been, "I'm coming this Saturday, or. . . maybe the next Saturday, but I'm coming!"

I had just invited my family to the table and we'd all taken a few bites when she arrived. It was only 1:30! I moved my lunch out of sight and into the kitchen and greeted her warmly. Just as no visit has a definite expected start time, neither is the ending defined. But, as she got off of the boda (motorcycle) that had carried her to us, she spoke in Luganda for the driver to return at 4 p.m. to pick her up. I now knew how long she planned to stay, a rare insight afforded a host. However, we planned to go to Kiwoko for another visit at 4 p.m., so I spoke to the driver that he need not return as we would drive her into Kiwoko.

My visitor and her husband have a ministry, including a school and church in a nearby village. They are very poor, yet she showed up to my house bearing a huge sack of food for us! Few clothes, little furniture, extremely limited resources for running their ministry, but rich in food. It's common here. It was embarrassing for me to receive a huge sack of sweet potatoes from her, a large basket full of bananas, and about 4 kilograms of beans--all fresh from their garden. My American eyes saw capital sitting on the porch, as I thought she could have sold the items and brought in money for her family and ministry! But, she knew that what was sitting on our porch was her gratitude for our support of her family's work within their community. Things not being as I expect them to be never cease to catch me off guard!

In other news . . .there is a very important gauge of my own personal health in place in our little community. In Uganda, bigger is better. Ahem . . . I speak of the plumpness of the physique. What I want is to remain healthfully slim. What Ugandans value is "largeness" for it indicates the wealth available to eat a LOT. We do not have weight loss advertisements posted around town. We have weight gain advertisements as follows, "Gain hips and bums! Call xxxx-xxx-xxx" So, when I receive a "compliment" that I'm looking good, I say "Thank you" and mentally make a note to cut back on my portions. In fact, I thought I was doing pretty good when we first returned to Uganda last year after our time in America, until one of my dear older friends greeted me warmly, and with a big smile proclaimed, "Aunt, you're looking nice and big!" "Thank you," I replied, and realized supper portions that night would have to be small.

I relish watching my children growing up here. But, even with my own kids things are not always as they seem.

On another trip to Kampala, we spent little time anywhere else but walking around clean grocery stores, sitting at the hospital waiting for Aunt Ketty's oncologist appointment, and sitting in our nice air conditioned van.  We returned home around 11 p.m. because traffic was again out of control--jam here, jam there, jam everywhere! After emptying out our grocery sacks, I walked into my bathroom and found Kevin showering. Kevin--my ten year old whom I cannot get to bathe, but once or twice a week even though everyday he runs through the bush, the mud, climbs the trees, skids expertly in mud puddles on his bike, and plays football every afternoon until he is overheated and sweaty. I asked amazed, "You're bathing???? WHY?" He was obviously amazed that I was amazed and retorted, "Mom! I'm dirty!"
"You mean to tell me that the dirt you sleep in most days is cleaner than what we found in Kampala today?"
 "Yup, dirt isn't bad. It's dirt. But, Kampala is full of germs. We need dirt, it doesn't hurt, but I sat at the hospital all afternoon and THAT IS NASTY DIRTY!"
"I'm sure you're going to be a doctor some day with that interesting take on the environmental effect on the immune system!"
"Maybe, but it's true!"

With Toby, I have to ask not, "Did you wash your hands?" but, "Did you wash your hands just now?" The second question always asked is, "WITH SOAP?" to which he usually replies, "Uh, no." The standard answer I get when I ask, "Why is there still dirt on your hands?"
"That's not dirt, Mom! They're stained!"
Funny how when they take a proper bath the stains become removable. hmmmm, tricky.

And speaking of dirt, currently, we have been without a helper for the washing of our laundry for almost two weeks. She and I had a "conversation" one day regarding her eldest daughter about whom she had received a phone call. Apparently, the young girl was behaving badly and needed to be picked up and brought to the mom's home from a distant village where she lived with a relative. An aside: MANY children do not live with their parents here in Uganda. The reasons are varied. A non-exhaustive list would include: boarding school, a distant aunt who has the "right" above the mom, because she is the elder sister to the father of the child, or an older brother or sister who can give the child "more opportunity" because they have a good paying job.

So, back to our story for today. Our "conversation," which I put in quotes because we barely got our points across with my limited Luganda and her limited English, she told me she was going on Friday to pick up her daughter from Bweyogerere village. I encouraged her to do so, adding that her daughter needed her mom. The following Monday, (more than a week ago) she did not show for work. Nor did she on Tuesday. By Wednesday I asked my other house helper if she knew anything. She looked confused that I was asking, "She went to Masindi, didn't she tell you?" Masindi, in the western part of Uganda, is at the very least a four hour journey, and is in the opposite direction of Bweyogerere. Long story short, I am looking for another laundry helper. The kids and I have spent much of our days washing clothes and we still haven't caught up. Tomorrow I will receive a new helper and we'll see how long that business relationship lasts. My helper said the new helper is a friend of hers. But, when I asked her name she said she didn't know it. Apparently, "friend" means something different that I expected. We'll see how things work out.

Yesterday, Kambo, our good friend arrived. (I know his name, so he is a "good" friend) I greeted him warmly and directed him to where he could find Geoff. A young lady walked up immediately after Kambo arrived and I also greeted her warmly. I think I spoke too fast for her because we seemed to miss each other in communication with almost everything we said. I asked if she was here to see Uncle Geoff.
"Yes."
I explained where he was and asked if she wanted to wait at the house or go to where he was.
"Yes. I'll sit here."
I asked her name and asked if she went to the secondary school.
"Peninah. Yes."
 I thought she was one of our young people who are preparing to go on our outreach next week to the Yumbe district.

When Geoff arrived he greeted her, but she did not speak to him about any particular issue, so he finished the greeting and moved on to a young man from David Family who was also waiting for him. I quietly asked Geoff what she wanted and he said he didn't know. I told him she said she was there for him, but he said she only greeted and left it at that.

So, I went to investigate more. She managed to give me enough information that I realized I had met her once before. She was Kambo's niece! Yes, she was here to see Geoff, but not just him, she was here to visit with the entire family. And she didn't attend our secondary school, but one in Kiwoko. I apparently hadn't asked the right questions. And she answered my questions with an extreme succinct nature. I suddenly realized I had two more stomachs to fill for dinner.

She seemed content to sit on the porch and watch the people pass by, so I got in the kitchen and created food where there previously was none.

All in all the evening turned out fine. The beans I seemed to have so little of managed to fill the bowls of the majority. I thought of the five loaves and two fish. Only my miracle was beans and rice. Those of us who didn't want beans ate bread and tea. The visitors thought my fare was wonderful and left very satisfied. I felt that I had not been a great hostess. Things are not always as they seem.

Language is one of my biggest challenges. I know just enough to be either adequately confused or laughable. At the market one Saturday I successfully bought a fresh beet, if you measure success by only the ability to actually get home with a beet. However, the way I went about it was not very successful. When the man gave me a price twice as much as what I had paid the previous week, I enlightened him that I would only pay what I had paid the week before. I was so proud of myself and assumed his perplexed look was that I'd "won" the bargaining round. When I arrived home with the beet
and told Geoff about it, he laughed and said, "you didn't tell him you would pay the price from last week, you told him you would pay the same price as next week." My language acquisition is not as good as it sometimes seems to me!

Many of you have asked how I am doing since the "border incident." (if you don't know what that means, read   http://www.brittonsinuganda.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-other-side-of-peachy-keen_4382.html )

Honestly, for the most part, I have not been doing very well. I don't understand how one giant episode of "things are not as they seem" playing out before me could derail me in such an extensive way. There has been a lot of depression, darkness, impatience, sadness and wondering if I was in irreversible burnout. Though I've tried to humor you with some of what we experience of cultural and language differences, many of those differences have served as the catalyst for frustration, impatience and anger on my part. I haven't talked about some things because at this point I can not find anything of humor in them at all.

However, I am doing better thanks to friends all over the world who pray. Thank you for letting me know you are praying for me, I have been encouraged by your emails and notes.

Here on the ground, first and foremost are Geoff's prayers and gentle kindness when he could have displayed frustration. Then, I have a number of close friends here who have prayed with me many times and have spoken words of life and encouragement. One told me she "is good at praying, it's what I love to do, so I will pray for you. You asking me to pray for you is not a burden." Another reminded me of the power of God's word being spoken in my words. I have gained strength with, "I am engraved on Your palms, Lord." Isaiah 49:16; "I will be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry," James 1:19; "I will cease from anger and turn from wrath for they only cause harm," Psalm 37:8; and "I will ask and receive from You Lord, that You may fill me with joy," John 16:24. There are many more I have leaned on throughout the past couple of months. I continue to sit in the mornings with God, His word, and I talk with him. Each morning I am singing a song of praise or worship and I am rediscovering that singing to Him out loud cultivates peace. One friend spoke of being hopeful and my heart jumped when she said it. "I want some of that, Lord."

All these things, prayers, words, songs are helping, but I still am a bit tenuous in the grand scheme of things. The cultural, language and worldview differences I shared in this blog post are also present each day. Some days feel overwhelming and I am sure I am burned out. Other days I feel the hope for which I ask.

It is a lifelong journey, so I ask God to continually strengthen me that I may not be merely surviving, but thriving.

I want to end on a lighter note, so considering all I've shared of my struggle I will let you in on a secret I ask myself often at the end of the day. This pertinent, examining question was first posed to me years ago by dear friend and neighbor, Uncle Tony. At the end of one day he asked me, "well, did you survive? or would it be more accurate to say they survived you."

Honestly, along this path I tread, somedays my family and the people I interact with barely manage to survive me with all my faults and failures.

Yup, things are not always as they seem. On the days I can produce a smile, there still is a bit of turbulence brewing underneath, but praise God that His promise to never leave me or turn His back on me has always proven true. (Hebrews 13:5)

Now, that is a God's miracle of grace and love, folks!