our family at the moment

our family at the moment
our family at the moment

Friday, November 30, 2012

If I could save time in a bottle...

It is time.  After 6 weeks in Uganda, I'm finally able to take my sweet little boy home to America to meet the rest of his family.

If I could save time in a bottle 
the first thing that I'd like to do...

is to remember:
the simplicity of the truths in the lessons taught at church
the complete silence and reverence in sacrament meeting
the beautiful harmonies sang in acapella during hymns
Brother Charlie playing the prelude music and interlude hymn
the Dutch boy that stared at Kate the entire flight while she blushed
the red dirt roads surrounded by lush greenery
heads piled high with merchandise walking down the street
the begging children putting their heads inside windows of cars
caffe javas milk shakes and curry chicken
hot ciapati
warm smiles with white teeth and eyes
grace and generosity despite having nothing
a simple life and a simple attitude
trees laden with ridiculously large maribou storks 
the juxtaposition of saying goodbye at the orphanage and driving straight to a resort to swim for the afternoon
Kirabo's lonely, sad eyes turned bright and twinkling
Kirabo's musical, hearty laugh
water fights, mango juice and spectacular animals on safari
the humble existence of the villagers
everywhere Kate went Ugandans loved her.  They'd hug, grab, smile and follow her wherever we went.
the ability to feel abundantly blessed regardless of how much you have

is to forget:
Tucking everyone in under mosquito nets every night for six weeks

Classic quotes from the trip:
"You are the whitest person I've ever seen."
Francis to Rebecca

"You are a strong woman, but this is definately your achilles heel."
James to Rebecca when frozen in fear at the 4 inch grasshopper flying around my room in the middle of the night and unable to kill it.  James was in CA at the time.  Rebecca was out of luck.

"Sometimes I just want a hug from my mom when I'm cold or lonely." Kate on understanding why Kirabo wanted lots of hugs from mom on our trip. James-"Come here, I'll give you a hug." Kate- "No thanks."

"Will you be my mama?"
Lucy to first Grammie Nadauld and then Uncle Lincoln after 4 weeks without seeing her mom.


"1...2...3...Fuka!" instead of "Seka" 
Rebecca said to a group of Ugandans she's taking a picture of.
(Fuka means peepee, Seka means smile)

At Friday market we gave 10,000 shillings (4.00) to Charlie and Kate to pick something out and bargain with the vendors.  They both came back with the same knife but Kate had 2 other items as well.  
Charlie-"That's not fair.  I got the knife first and brought the price down for Kate.  Then she got the price lower than me."
Dad-"Kate is just really good at bargaining."
Kate-"That's because I have a cute face."

Sights and Sounds of Uganda
Everytime we'd see something distinctly Ugandan, Francis would call out "sights and sounds!"  Here are some pictures capturing them.




Nakasero Fruit Market

Maribou Stork






Ankole Cows

Lion tracks








Kirabo's room at orphanage

Kids playing football in the mud barefoot

National Ugandan Football Match with Godfrey and Francis



How to help:
Some have asked how they can help so James and I have identified a few different ways that are legitimate and would be the best bang for your buck.  These are things that are desperately needed.

1) We are raising funds for a well to put a source of fresh water in Kirabo's village.  We have identified a couple of different contacts and NGO's that do a good job in building wells here and they have both corroborated the cost of approximately $15,000-20,000. We will take donations in any amount.

2) Sponsor an older child from Kirabo's orphanage to be able to go to boarding school and get an education.  You receive a picture, receipts for school, report cards, and regular updates.  You can communicate with them and develop a relationship with them if you'd like.  The cost for this is approximately $700.00 a year.  

3) Sponsor a younger child from Kirabo's orphanage.  You receive a picture of the child and the money goes directly toward the orphanage and pays for food, soap, and other necessities for the little ones.  The cost for this is approximately $400.00 a year.

Let us know if you are interested in any of the above and we'd be happy to help make arrangements or provide additional information.

Bottom Line:
Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your support, encouragement and friendship through this.  It has meant so much to us and we really needed it along the way.  Thanks for your emails, and comments.  I have been far away for 6 weeks and it meant a lot to get an email here and there or a comment to be able to feel somewhat connected to my friends and loved ones back in the states.  We have so much to be grateful for and we have been so blessed.  Thank you, thank you.
Love,
Rebecca and family
xo

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

It takes a village

Wow.  What a full few days.  Tuesday, we woke up early and began our trek to Kirabo's village to see the grave and tombstone we had put in place for his mother, Angella, and to say thank you and goodbye to his relatives and those who helped him a long the way. We picked up Godfrey and let him get situated in the car before I started my barrage of questioning.  He was a good sport and answered as many questions as he could.  We cleared up a lot and gathered more details.  Too excited to wait, I returned his picture of Angela he had lent us.  We put it in a nice wood frame so it would last.  He got a big smile on his face and was very happy.  Then I gave him a second picture frame of himself and Kirabo on the day of court.  He held those picture frames in his hands for quite a while just staring at them.  About an hour later, we took the turn toward Butumbala District to pick up Angella’s maternal grandmother, Kevina Kamalungu.  We drove through the rundown town centers and lush villages.  These roads seemed more red and the bush more green than we had seen before.  It was a very bumpy ride as we four wheeled over all the pot holes and cracks and crevices in the uneven dirt roads.  About 60 minutes on this road, we pulled up to Kevina’s home.  There was a one room mud hut with several people, including children hanging around.  Godfrey went to get Kevina who was working out in the fields at age 69.  She showed up in bare feet with arms and legs caked in mud, and when she saw Kirabo standing before her, fell to her knees and sobbed into her hands.  She said she last saw him when he was 10 months old and was very small and starving when they left her home for Gertrude's.   Kevina was overcome with emotion at this boy standing before her today with clean clothes and looking much more healthy than when he left her.  We learned some more details such as how they were on their way to the clinic to have her baby and right there on the dirt road in front of the house, she gave birth to Kirabo!  We met more family members, including her lone surviving child out of 12, Ishmael, and his children and other grandchildren of hers.  She and one of her granddaughters, Harriett, came with us to Gertrude’s home.






The second Kevina got in the car, she pulled out a piece of paper and put it in my lap.  I unfolded it and it was a record of her pap smear 2 years ago.  I saw the words abnormal and atypical and knew what was coming.  She kept holding her stomach and moaning.  She would talk to Francis and he would nod but never translated.  I didn’t follow up.  I got the feeling he was protecting us from a request.  Kevina was a determined woman and clearly had a mission.  Her request presented itself again on the ride home.

We eventually pulled into Gertrude’s home, the various relatives lined up sitting on the crumbling foundation footing in front of her home.  This home was a tad bigger than Kevina’s.  There was a small sitting room and a bedroom off to the side.  There was a small open air hut behind the home that acted as the kitchen, one tiny square hut with a door and then a small hut with a hole in the ground for the bathroom.  Kevina’s place just had a tiny covered area for her fire to cook and no bathroom.  According to Francis, they just go to the bathroom wherever and use their hands to wipe.  I was feeling excited to eat the food now…

We looked over in the direction of the graves and even though it was the farthest in the back, you could see Angella’s white grave just gleaming among the others.  We went and placed the flowers we had brought and the framed picture of Angella on the grave and took pictures.  Francis then drove over to pick up Mattia, Nantume, Anusianta, Sister Mary Henry and Godlive. 


Charlie and Kate were having a blast chasing the chickens through the corn stalks, and looking at the cow and goat and pigs. Kirabo, less enthusiastic, was keeping up with them but a little more uncertain and deliberate in his actions.  Everywhere he went at Kevina’s and Gertrude’s, he was the main attraction and all the women would just tug at him and grab him and hug him.  He would let them but anyone who was sympathetic to his plight could tell he had completely withdrawn into himself in order to deal with this day.  What he must have been feeling, I will never know and can only guess.



Francis returned with the group of people that had helped Kirabo and that car ride proved very valuable as Francis picked up more detail from those who had seen first hand what Kirabo had been through and hadn’t dared put into their affadavits.   Tears were flowing and hearts were breaking for what had been but then we were able to look forward to the future with joy and hope and incredible gratitude for a good Heavenly Father who had answered the prayers in our hearts.  I held Kirabo tighter as we all went inside for the lunch. 
Anuscianta, one of Kirabo's angels
Godalive, the other of Kirabo's angels
Oh the lunch.  What do I say about this.  We all sat shoulder to shoulder and I sat on the ground on my knees with Kirabo next to me and Charlie wedged in by us.  James and Kate were across the room sitting on the arm of the couch.  A plastic tub of water was passed around so we could rinse our hands off.  I was at the end so the tub was just full of dirty water by the time it came to me.  I tried not to think about it as I rinsed my hands.  The plates came out full of beef on bones, noodles, rice, and matooke (mashed plantains).  We all got heaping piles of rice, noodles and matooke, then a little bit of meat and a cup of broth was passed around to drizzle on the starches.  O.k., here I go.  I was remembering how when I was 19 and in China for 6 weeks I ate chicken feet, pigs ear, fried worms, chicken soup with a chicken head in my bowl, among other delicacies.  Surely I could do this.  My my how age weakens our ability.  Everyone in the room was digging in and I nodded in encouragement at Charlie and Kate with a big smile on my face and took my first strategic bite of soft noodles.  Hm.  It was full of gritty sand and an odd taste.  My reflexes kicked in and I began saying one of those desperate pleading prayers as my stomach started dry heaving.  I kept telling myself this was mental and to get over it already.  I looked up and James was video taping me and got the dry heave on video!  I started busting up which sent James into hysterics.  James and I are infamous for getting ourselves into a fit of giggles at the most inopportune times.  I began crying in my effort to stuff the giggles back inside and Charlie begged me to get in on the joke.  I begged him to keep smiling and eat in order to make up for my clear ineptitude.  I could see them all watching us and studying our faces and I was doing my best to keep smiling at the kids in order to encourage them.  Across the room, there is Kate raving about the meat and asking James if she can have his.  Kate doesn’t eat much, but she devours meat.  We call her carnivore Kate.  I winked at her and mouthed “thank you.”  I could tell she couldn’t eat anything else so she was concentrating whole heartedly on the meat.  I was trying to mental telepathy my meat over to her plate.  It didn’t work.  I looked down at  Charlie and he had broken out in to a full on sweat.  He had his head down and he looked as if he was using sheer will to get the food down.  Then, I looked back at James.  He had that tightly pursed lip frozen smile plastered on his face.  Great.  Eventually, Gertrude came to get the plates and proceeded to scrape the remaining food off right in front of everyone.  Thankfully our very chatty Mattia, head of the Good Samaritans, announced it was time for speeches.  Francis got ready to translate and we all settled in for the program.  



Everyone spoke and as they went around the room they each thanked us and begged us to bring Kirabo back so he could see where he comes from and stay in touch with his roots.  We promised over and over to each person that spoke that we would.  I noticed Godfrey had silently removed himself from the room sometime during the speeches and had turned on music from his phone and was sitting outside listening to the music drown out the words coming from inside.  Later I would find out why.


James' was the final speech and represented our family.  He did a marvelous job and was very eloquent.  He addressed their concerns and looked right at each person in the room and said “We want you to know how proud we are of Kirabo’s culture and heritage.  We honor his roots and look forward to returning when he is older so he can learn more about them and see you all again.”  He also said, “You have all mentioned that you had been praying for Kirabo.  We want you to know we have been praying for him for two years and God has heard all of our prayers.”  The room erupted in applause.  

After the speeches, Mattia asked if we could kneel down while they all prayed for us.  We obliged and everyone else stood up and put their hands out in the air over our heads and Mattia began to pray.  After a few minutes, the rest of the room all joined him in a collective prayer.  It was very touching.  Then, they all started singing the most beautiful song in three part harmony.  I had to capture this moment.  Keeping my head bowed, I snuck my arm down to the side and flipped my video camera on.  I tilted the camera a little bit to see if I could get anyone.  I mostly just could get Mattia, but then as I tilted the camera down by my side, I saw a face staring down right into the camera.  Busted, I pulled my hand away like a scolded child.  I reflected that in that group, there were catholics, pentacostals and latter-day saints.  We all came together and prayed together and talked of God and faith and prayers together.  It was a beautiful moment when we were all similar and seemed to speak the same language.

We packed 13 people, mostly older women, into the car and set off down the bumpy road with heads and bodies jostling into each other.  And oh, the body odor.  We drove to Godlive’s village where we had brought blow pops and a soccer ball for the school children at the school across the street.  It was a complete mad house.  Our van was swarmed and we could barely get out of the car.  Charlie and Kate got out of the car and everywhere Kate went they ran after her.  When she finally realized this, she panicked and started to run faster and they picked up their pace and chased her and laughed.  I wasn’t sure what to do as she was caught in the middle of this tidal wave and I couldn’t even see her.  I could tell where she was because the crowd of literally hundreds of kids kept moving around her.  I kept asking her to raise her hand so I could see her.  We got out the blow pops and it was then I started to get worried.  Charlie got knocked down and his shoe was carried off in the swarm.  I thought Kate was going to get trampled and I started pushing the kids away so I could get to her.  When I did, there she was, swallowed up in the black sea, with an empty blow pop bag and a big smile.  We finally got smart and had the teachers line up the kids in lines and gave the bags to the teachers.  Unfortunately, because we had already given out several bags and the kids were hiding them in their pockets, we came up short.  I ran to the car and grabbed my ziplock bag stuffed full of granola bars, fruit sticks and apple sauce I had brought for our journey, and passed them out.  We were still about 18 short and the teachers said sorry to the patient kids at the end of the line.  My heart broke.  We gave them our USA soccer ball and they were very grateful. 




It was now time to say goodbye to Godlive.  I had bought angel pins and Tina had wrapped them beautifully for me.  I handed her a thank you note with a little bit of money as a small token of gratitude to try to repay her for what she sacrificed to give to Kirabo, and I gave her the gift.  I held her hands and looked into her eyes and said, “Thank you Godlive, for being Kirabo’s angel and helping him to live.”  I knew that even if she didn’t completely understand what I was saying, she heard me.  She looked back into my eyes and we both knew what I was saying.  She knew that I knew how instrumental she had been in his life.  She hugged me tight on both sides and I got in the car.  My heart was full of love for this dear woman. 

I had asked Francis when he was with Godlive sometime this day to find out where she gets her water.  She told him she walks 3 km (about 2 miles) to the nearest well.  That well serves 3 villages including Gertrudes and is a pump well which is tough to use.  James and I would like to try to fundraise when we get home in order to raise money for a well to put in the village.  All those children that go to that school would be able to access it as well as helping those that played a beautiful role in Kirabo's life.
Saying goodbye to Nantume, aunt who raised Angella after her parents died
We headed to Butumbala where we were going to drop off Kevina and Harriett.  She started in again on talking to Francis.  He finally started translating and confirmed our suspicions.  She was boldly asking for 200,000 shillings ($80) for medication for her bad pap smear.  The car got very quiet.  James and I quietly discussed what to do.  We had no proof this medication cost this much and if she actually needed it.  The test was for 2 years ago!  We told Francis that when she got out of the car to please tell her how sorry we are but we have put a little money in her thank you card and that will have to be enough.  She understood and I thanked her and hugged her. On our way back to the main road we passed a hot ciapatti stand outside and James got out to buy us all hot ciapatti for dinner.  Godfrey said we would get the muzungu (white person) price and hopped out to buy them instead.  We ended up paying $2.50 for 14 ciapatti!  There’s no way James would have ended up with that price!  Godfrey use to work at a ciapatti stand and I asked if his tasted like this and without hesitating he said, “Mine are better.”  I told him I wanted to learn and he said if I had the time, he would teach me.  I wish I could figure out how to make that happen!
Mpigi District, where Kirabo is from, is right on the Equator
One of the trading centers (downtown) in the district
Now we were down to just Godfrey and us.  It was a good opportunity to talk to him about his plans for his future.  He had said earlier that 8 months ago he was hit by a truck while riding his bike and his bike was totaled, his jerrycans were crushed and he was very injured.  Eight months ago everything was taken away from him that he had earned and he was sleeping on the floor of his church homeless.  He had to have been at the lowest of lows.  He pulled himself up, earned enough for a new bike and jerrycans and now delivers water to the church and school and other homes in his area.  He has a 1 room place and sleeps on the floor and pushes his water around on his bike while having chest pains as a result of his accident.  We had a wonderful conversation about his plans for the future and we gained even more respect for Godfrey and his efforts.

Francis told me that when we were riding home Godfrey had a lot to say about his family.  He said that while these women all had smiles on their faces and talked about how grateful they were for Kirabo and that Kirabo could find a good home, they never cared for him at all.  He said they have these fake smiles on now and pretend to care but no one ever tried to help him and make room for him.  I remembered how Godfrey had quietly served the food to everyone at Gertrude’s home and then snuck out and sat outside for the speeches.  It became clear to me now that he did not want to hear the hypocracy in their words.  In their minds Kirabo had no worth because there was no one to love him.  Now that James and I come along and see him for the amazing spirit that he is and always has been, they now see value in him too.  Now that someone loves him, he must be worth loving.  Godfrey had run away to Kampala when he was a teenager, I now understood why.  He has distanced himself from these people and worked hard to live an honorable life as a respectable man.  He is doing a wonderful job.  


When we returned home late in the evening, our internal and withdrawn Kirabo disappeared and with a big smile he hopped out of the car and ran with us into the guest home.  He wrestled and giggled but mostly wanted to cuddle.  He was happy he was home.


As an aside: We called Dr. Lincoln, our resident family oncologist, the next day and read him Kevina's pap smear.  He confirmed our suspicions that there was no medicine to take for her illness.  However, we both gave her points for trying.