Adventures in Africa

Stocking up on shoes for the next two years is a serious undertaking! I recently bought 6 pairs in one day–YIKES! I think I’m done shoe shopping for awhile…

Can this thing even be called an insect?  I have no idea what it was, but it looked like some sort of beetle.  Its body was at least four inches long, not counting the pincher/arm things coming out of is head!  I doused it with Doom powder (an insecticide), hoping it would die, but realizing that with its hard, armor-like shell, death might take quite awhile.  Then, in a sudden burst of bravery (and a desire to get the nasty thing out of the house!), I kicked it outside under the garage door.  I haven’t seen this creature since, so I guess he decided to make his home in a safer place.  We sure never lack for adventure here in Uganda!

So you gave Leila and I some 37,000/= to use for our birthdays, right? We decided to get ice cream at the Lake Vic hotel while we were there for team retreat in March. You know I’ve been craving good ice cream for about 18 months now… Anyway, we each got two scoops (at 3,000/= per scoop), one strawberry and one orange.  Sorry to say, it was well, um, kind of gross.  I mean, I guess it was okay, but it tasted like local ice milk with fake flavoring.  I think you know what I mean.  Yummy scrummy?  I think not!  We were sorely disappointed, especially because we had heard the ice cream there was supposed to be marvelous.  We still have 25,000/= left, though, so we are going to try again on our way back to the States, either in Amsterdam or when we actually reach the good ol’ US of A.

Last Week was “Spirit Week” at Mbale Mission School. We all had fun dressing up according to each day’s theme.

Tuesday was “Crazy Hair Day”

Since we also had the 100th day of school during spirit week, Emily did her hair in 10 groups of 10 braids each so that she had 100 braids up on top of her head! FUN!

Elyse’s hair warranted a picture from the back since no one could really see the craziness from the front!

Wednesday was “Wear Your Favorite Color Day”

Emily said she was going to wear purple, but when it was time to get dressed in the morning, she realized she had worn her purple shirt the day before (see the first photo), so she opted for red instead. Elyse was also going to wear purple, but changed her mind to pink because she didn’t want to wear the same color as Emily. Funny girls! Naseem wore orange, and I wore blue, not because it’s my favorite color, but because it’s the only color of which I have both a top and a bottom!

Thursday was “Pyjama Day”

Anyone want to snuggle up and take a nap with us?

Friday was “70’s or 80’s Day”

Oh, don’t you just love the tight-rolled jeans? Elyse’s “dress” is actually one of her mom’s skirts–pretty creative!

Angela in her 70’s outfit

Nathanael

Lydia and Leila all decked out

Mr. Preppy Jonathan

It is funny to me the number of new nicknames I have received since being in Uganda: Mr. Kimberly, Cranberry, Cran-berly, Creme Broule, Miss Kambry, Miss Kwumbly, Bly, and more recently Boo La La and Booley. Some of these names have been short-lived and some of them have stuck. Both “Boo La La” and “Booley” were started by 18 month old Asher. As he tried to say my name, “Kimberly,” it came out as “Boo La La” or “Booley.” Of course, the older kids thought this was hilarious, so I am now frequently referred to as either one of those names. (”Cranberry” is another one that has stuck, thanks to then-2-year-old Annalise.)

Natalie especially likes to call me “Booley” and one day she left me a special message on the back window of the truck I drive.

Thanks, Natalie!

(This list is by no means complete, but it has been in my “drafts” long enough, so I thought it was high time to actually post it.  Any of you missionary-types out there, feel free to add to this list!)

You know you’re a missionary when…

Someone sends you a package and you’re more excited about the tissue paper in it than the contents of the package.

You save that tissue paper because it’s like waxed paper and you can use it for cooking!

You have to add more pages to your passport every two years.

You reuse aluminum foil, Ziploc bags, and paper napkins. And reuse them again… and again… and again…

Your heart is frequently sad because of the constant coming and going of people and transition you experience.

You buy special chocolates when you’re in America in June and hide them in the freezer until Christmastime.

You learn to choke down nasty food, and before long, lo and behold, you discover that you actually like it!

You’d rather have local food for lunch than spend hours making an American meal.

You can’t imagine buying already-made tortillas, corn chips, bread, cake, etc.

You constantly feel like you’re in a time warp.

Your idea of recycling has nothing to do with little green or orange plastic boxes or trips to the recycling center. Instead, you make someone’s day by giving them your empty plastic and glass containers and your used cardboard and paper as a gift.

You talk more on the computer than you do on an actual telephone.

You see something scurry across the floor and you have to pause and ask yourself, “Was that a rat or a cockroach or a gecko?”

Your heart is broken by pot-bellied children with discolored hair, by women who walk miles in bare feet, by old men with disfigured limbs–even though you live among them and see their struggles every day. Your heart never gets used to the hardness of life around you.

You feel like you spend a large chunk of your life waiting–waiting in lines, waiting for the repairman to come, waiting on a phone call, waiting on God’s direction, waiting for the water to get hot, waiting for the water to cool down, waiting for the power to come on, waiting in traffic, waiting for the money to come in, waiting on someone to accept the message you’ve preached for months or even years, waiting, waiting, waiting.

You come across a car accident and you have to weigh the risks of helping or walking away–the risk of AIDS if you come into contact with another person’s blood, the risk of being caught and injured in a mob, the risk of being blamed for what happened, the risk of being seen as someone who isn’t willing to help in a time of need, the risk of not doing what God wants you to do.

I ate lunch at the Tower Restaurant today, and as I was eating, I began to read and analyze the menu.  (Those of you who know me well know that I read anything and everything in sight!)  I was struck by a couple of menu items and their prices:

bread 300/= (about 18 cents)

bread with Blue Band 600/=

(Blue Band is margarine made from palm oil–about the most unhealthy stuff you can put in your body!)

I chuckled out loud and thought to myself, “You’ve got to be kidding!  It costs twice as much just to put Blue Band on it???”  I was truly surprised, but as I thought more about it, I realized it made perfect sense–from a Ugandan perspective.  While I think Blue Band is absolutely awful, they love the stuff!  And when they slather it on bread, it’s not just a thin layer; I’ve seen it caked on 1/8 inch thick!  They put so much on not only because they like the taste, but also because it will help them to get fat.  Being fat is highly valued here because it means you have enough food to eat–which means you’re “rich.”  So, I guess it makes sense to double the price of a slice of bread if Blue Band is added.  They probably put so much on it that it actually does cost 300 extra shillings!

Life has been a bit stressful lately–okay, maybe A LOT stressful–and I have appreciated God’s graciousness in giving me a few small glimpses of beauty and hope the past few days…

a beautiful sunset that sent splashes of gold throughout the backyard

the phone line that has not worked for a week randomly started working again today

an amazingly beautiful and bright frangipani tree–I just happened to look up and glance out the window and the tree was so beautiful, it almost took my breath away.

“fall” leaves to crunch underfoot as I walk home from school each day

a pile of said leaves on the side of the road, just asking to be jumped in (I didn’t jump in them, of course, though the “temptation” was rather strong; the neighbors probably would have thought I’d gone mad!)

the realization that though the truck is dead–again!–at least it died in my own driveway, rather than in Jinja, a 2 hour drive away, where I’d just been a couple of days before

watching the rising of a nearly full moon

The electricity that has been at a very low voltage for over two weeks (and with no hope of repair any time soon) actually came on at or near full strength tonight–at least strong enough to charge the inverter batteries properly and keep the freezer running.  Yahoo!!

Though I realize these blessings may not last for long, they have at least given me a small reprieve from the storm and have given me strength to go out and weather it once again.

Praise God for little things that bring hope and comfort and joy!

I spent last evening refining my expertise in pest control. First, I was making a new dish for dinner that called for rice. I measured out the last bit of rice in the container and needed more, so I opened a new bag, only to find it infested with little black bugs. Most of you would have probably just thrown the whole bag away and made a new dinner plan, made due with what you already had, or gone to buy more rice at the local grocery store. However, for me, this wasn’t just any rice. It was brown rice, which I can only get in Kampala, a 4-5 hour drive away. So, I set to sifting the rice and pulling out the little invaders one by one. Once I had cleaned enough rice to make dinner, I set the rest aside and let the bugs crawl out on their own. I checked it periodically and smashed any bugs that had come out while I was away. Then, after dinner, I searched the rice thoroughly and pulled out any remaining critters. Before I went to bed, I put the whole container of rice in the freezer to kill any bugs that had escaped my careful search. I figure even if I missed one or two, at least they are dead now!

Next… I recently moved into a house that has sat empty for almost a month. While the house had no human inhabitants, a nest of cockroaches decided to make one of the kitchen cupboards their home. There were dozens of roaches in there, tiny baby ones, medium sized ones, big ones, and several of the HUGE variety (the kind that are 3-4 inches long, not counting their antennae). YUCK!!! Well, last night was the night to attempt to get rid of them. I used a potato masher to first whap on all the plastic containers in the cupboard in order to scare any roaches out. Next, I hooked the containers with the end of the masher and yanked so they came tumbling down (hopefully without any roaches attached!). Most of the cockroaches were hiding behind a water bottle in the corner of the cupboard, and when I moved that, they went scurrying everywhere. Once I got everything out of the cupboard I sprinkled insecticide dust all over in there to kill them. As the evening went on, the roaches came out one or two at a time, covered in white dust and flailing all about. I also smashed 6 or 7 of them with my trusty-dusty house shoes. Later, when I was doing dishes at the kitchen sink, one of the medium-sized roaches had crawled to the top of the cupboard door and jumped out from there onto the floor. The thing about scared me to death as it came whizzing past my arm. I was glad I wasn’t standing one or two inches over to the right or it would have landed right on me! Gross! There were still plenty of roaches in there by the time I went to bed; by morning, several more of them had come out and were writhing around on the kitchen floor. I’ve checked in the cupboard several times today and all of the roaches seem to be dead. Yay!

One more creature story… Last week, when I was in Kampala, I woke up in the middle of the night with something on my neck. I started clawing at my neck and shot up in bed just in time to see a small dark figure scurry away. I had no idea what it was, as it was dark and I could barely see. It could have been a mouse, a cockroach, or a gecko–who knows? I think I prefer to believe it was just a friendly gecko, maybe eating a malaria-infested mosquito that was about to bite me! When I got up in the morning, I had red lines all over my neck from trying to get whatever it was off of me. Even now, I still have a scratch on my right collar bone. I’m sure I’ll have a scar there to remind me forever of my nighttime visitor!

Oh, the creepy crawly adventures of living in Africa!

the Shelburne van loaded with lots of our Thanksgiving treats

more yummy food just waiting to be put on the table; Shawn is picking one of the chickens (turkeys are too expensive here and not very good quality); the Tyler’s house helper, Sarah, is doing dishes

the bright and colorful relish tray

After filling our bellies with all that Thanksgiving yumminess, some of us worked on puzzles…

(Clockwise from bottom left: Danetta, Amanda, Becca, Heidi, Linda)

…some of us played cards…

(Clockwise from bottom left: Jonathan, Lydia, Joy, Leila’s hands and head, Jennifer)

…some of us watched TV (a parade and football game recorded some years ago), and some of us made fish faces…

(Asher)

I enjoyed much of the afternoon playing with the little people…

15 month old Asher was my little buddy most of the afternoon, wanting me to hold him, play with him, read to him, get him a drink, take him outside, wash his muddy feet after being outside, etc., etc., etc….

Here we are playing Go Fish with his big sister, Emily (she’s also one of my preschoolers)

It was a great day in all, with much to be thankful for!