Miss Independent?

{{Fetching some water at our lodging in Gulu!}}

Many of you know that I recently reached a milestone in my life – I turned 21 last Thursday! Though I did not have my first drink (school policy and personal preference), I did have a “yogurt cocktail”-flavored lollipop (emphasis on cocktail), which was close enough for me! Birthdays aren’t really a big deal here in Uganda (case in point: two of my host siblings have had birthdays since I arrived, and I didn’t find out until weeks later! 0_o), but my new friends and host family were gracious enough to celebrate with me. The USP program assistants decorated my school locker, a group of my muzungu and UCU friends joined me for lunch at a local canteen (complete with a chocolate cupcake…an endangered species here in Uganda!!), and my internship staff provided the lollipop, along with a rousing Ugandan rendition of “Happy Birthday to You.”

The best part of my big day, however, was the surprise that awaited me at when I came home from school…a burger for dinner!! I repeat, A BURGER FOR DINNER!! Leave it to Chef Rodgers to make the birthday girl smile. :) There was no cheese (oh, how I miss that beloved animal byproduct!), but it was still a warmly welcomed break to the never-ending parade of rice and beans. After returning from my brief visit to food heaven, I ended the evening with a special screening of the Amanda Bynes classic, “What a Girl Wants” – brought to me by none other than my second oldest host brother, Alex. (Note: this was a major sacrifice for him, as his approval of a film rests on the requirement that someone has to die before the credits roll.) All in all, I had a great 21^st birthday. Simple, but unforgettable! Thank you to all of you who sent me your wishes!

{{THE BURGER!!}}

In the process of upgrading to Kelsey Version 21.0, I have been reflecting on where I have been and where I am going. To say that God has richly blessed my life in recent years (and really ever since I first met Him) would be the understatement of the century. The older I get, the more I understand His calling on my life, my indebtedness to His grace, and the power of His love. God alone has sustained you and me both from the moment He chose to breathe us into this world until the very moment that you are reading this post – and for such a miracle, I am eternally grateful! In this particular season of my life, I find myself desiring to experience a greater dependence on God. It is easy enough for me to say that I am desperate for Him, but I’m not so convinced that I actually understand the meaning of that statement in full. After all, there is plenty that I mindlessly do on a daily basis in America without ever asking for God’s help.

For example, I can walk to class, text my friends, design my outfit for the day (sparkly bows a must!), pump gas, take a shower, order an omelet in the caf (Miss B or bust!!), do my laundry, make a credit card payment, and have a jam session (helloooooo, King of Pop!) all on my own – no Savior necessary. Sure, I may chat with God in the process of any of these routines, but mostly because I’m seizing an opportunity to multi-task, not because I’m requesting His assistance. Indeed, it seems that I only know what depending on God means in so far as I am in a crisis, particular those in which my personal reputation and success are on the line. I do love God from the very bottom of my heart, but when I am honest with myself in that exact place, I cannot say that I really know what it means to FROG – fully rely on God. However, coming to this uncomfortable realization is only further confirmation that God has me exactly where He wants me….because Ugandans do.

{{A little shot of the BEAUTIFUL Nile River,
which we passed on our way to Gulu.}}

Something that almost immediately struck me about Ugandan followers of Jesus is the depth of their faith, and the way that it truly permeates every aspect of their lives. When they greet one another, they don’t say, “Hey girl hey!” – they say “Praise God!” Those who run small businesses make sure they give credit where it is due, naming their shops “God is Able Salon & Barber,” “Blessed Be God Chapattis,” and “Jesus Saves Tailoring.” The songs that they mindlessly hum in the quiet moments of the day are not Gangnam Style or Last Friday Night – they’re whatever they heard in the last worship service they attended, which was probably only a few hours ago. Truly, these people don’t just follow Jesus – they cling to Him like white on rice and beans!

And appropriately so, because they know Him as their Provider. In a place of great need like Uganda, God is called upon for help in the daily routines of those who know Him – and perhaps even of those who don’t. When you’re not sure where your next meal will come from, how you’re going to get home from work in the evening, or when you will be able to pay rent, you kind of have no choice but to pray. Now, I recognize that these very scenarios are not completely foreign to Americans – we struggle, too. But from what I’ve observed, the critical difference is that we, in our comfort-driven society, tend to panic and flee from the struggle, while Ugandans are more prone to embrace it. This is not because they desire to struggle, but because most of them trust that God will come through for whatever it is that they need.

{{Me and my friend Reagan - his birthday is the same as mine!}}

The most powerful way that I have come to understand this reality is through the testimonies of the women at Amani Uganda, one of the non-profit organizations that I had the privilege of visiting on my recent trip to the region of Gulu in northern Uganda. Gulu is an area in which civil war took place for over 20 years, pitting the Government of Uganda against the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), commanded by rebel leader Joseph Kony. (You may recognize his name from the “Kony 2012” craze.) One of the hallmark atrocities of this civil war was that the LRA abducted tens of thousands of children to be used as soldiers in the conflict. Arming children with AK-47’s and commanding them to “kill or be killed” – often in reference to their own family members and friends – the LRA slaughtered the innocence and eliminated the bright futures of an entire generation of northern Ugandans. Additionally, young girls were abducted and forced to become the “wives” of rebel commanders at as early as the age of 11, being subjected to violent rape, torture, and completely grotesque manual labor demands. Though the war has been unofficially over for about 5 years now (and I say unofficially because Kony never followed through with his commitment to sign the peace treaty and he is said to currently still be in operation from the Central African Republic), the journey to social, economic, and personal restoration for the victims of this conflict has only just begun.

The good news, however, is that healing is happening – at least for the women at Amani Uganda. With a mission for spiritual, emotional, and economic empowerment and recovery, Amani Uganda equips women victims of the war – especially rebel wives – with artisan job training accompanied by Biblically-based group therapy. The women in the program sew beautiful, handcrafted creations and sell them for profit, and when our group visited their workshop, we had the opportunity to purchase some. (NEWSFLASH: You can, too, at http://www.amaniafrica.org/shop-fair-trade !!) But we left with more than just awesome purses and potholders – we also received the priceless gift of the testimonies of those who made them.

{{A typical northern Ugandan grass hut. SWEET!!}}

In front of a large group of absolute strangers, four courageous women boldly spoke about the horrors they had faced as rebel wives, the times they wanted to give up and die, and the faith that kept them going. My heart absolutely broke as I listened to their stories. I wondered to myself, “How could anyone endure such trauma and have enough strength left to tell the tale?” The resilience of human beings never ceases to amaze me…

There is something inherently sobering about being in the same room with a survivor of any kind, but I felt especially humbled by these women whose life experiences have been so completely different than my own, in what seemed to me the worst way possible. The one thing that we do have in common, however, is hope in the redemption of the one, true, living God. I do not claim for one second that my understanding of such hope is as intimate as theirs, but what I do know is that “no one whose hope is in the Lord will ever be put to shame” (Psalm 25:3) – whoever you may be, wherever you may come from, and whatever you may be going through. If you’re looking for hope, purpose, or a clean slate in your life, I encourage you: turn to God. His ocean of love for you will never run dry. If you know Him already, I encourage you: trust in Him deeper. Have no fear in opening up those corners of your heart to Him that you like to try to maintain control over yourself. Because the truth is, we can depend on him – in our ordinary day to day activities and in the darkest nights of our souls – for “in Him, all things hold together.” (Colossians 1:17)

{{Some neighbors cooking at our hose for
yet another graduation party!}}

I trust that throughout the rest of my time here in Uganda, God will answer my prayer to become more dependent on Him. Considering that I can’t do much of anything by myself here anyway (for example, washing my clothes, cooking my food, bartering in a market, and even crossing a busy road all require the assistance of my Ugandan friends!), I am certainly being challenged in normal 21-year-old desires for freedom and independence. For now, I am making Psalm 63:1-4 my prayer, and waiting on the Lord for a deeper revelation of Himself:

“O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you.So I will bless you as long as I live; in your name I will lift up my hands.”

That’s all for now, folks! I’m heading off to my rural homestay in the countryside for the next 10 days. Just a heads up, I will be without any kind of communication, so don’t be offended if I don’t e-mail you back right away. :)

Until next time, be good to yourself and be good to everybody else!

Thanks for caring,

Kelsey Jo

Minority Report

There is a word here in Uganda with which I have become well-acquainted. Little kids, boda-boda drivers, and other perfect strangers will holler it at me from the side of the road, and during my first couple of weeks here it made squirm every time:

“MUZUNGU! MUZUNGU!”

{{Look out! Muzungu on the loose in Mukono Town! ;) }}

Translation? WHITE PERSON.

Coming from America, where race is nowadays largely glossed over for the sake of anti-discrimination and common courtesy, it has been an adjustment for me to get used to the blunt way that Ugandans address the issue of race and other physical attributes. It is not that they are intentionally rude, but they just tend to “tell it like it is.” For example, it is not uncommon for a Ugandan to point out a change in your weight, a pimple on your face, or a fashion faux pas. On the same token, they also do not hesitate to tell you when you are looking “smart” (aka- nicely dressed), which is an important compliment in a culture that emphasizes being presentable in public. Either way, Ugandans say what they mean and mean what they say!

At first, I was taken aback by such honesty. I mean, can you even imagine a similar scene in America? If a muzungu pointed and shouted: “MEXICAN! MEXICAN!” from the side of the road, I think that most Americans would probably find it totally insensitive. Why? Because it’s drawing attention to someone’s status as a minority, which could easily be misinterpreted as some kind of racial hatred. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that there is anything bad about being a minority. In fact, I am a big fan of multiculturalism! My point is that, due to the combination of the American obsession with equality and the history of racial tension in our country, white Americans tend to tip-toe around the issue of race (and to even consider race an “issue” in the first place) – which is why Uganda has been a shock to my system in this arena.

{{Statue of the current King of Buganda
(kind of like the original version of Uganda),
Kabaka Muwenda Mutebi II! From a field trip
to the kingdom headquarters last week.}}

The fact that I would be in the minority here was simply not something that I had anticipated in advance. (And when I say minority, I mean M-I-N-O-R-I-T-Y!! Outside of the study abroad students, I have seen a total of 6 muzungus in all of the places I have visited combined – including the capital city!)  Because of this surprise – along with my academic study of the negative impacts of colonialism and the history of unintentionally oppressive Western missionaries in Africa within the first 3 weeks of this program – I initially felt terribly isolated and uncomfortable in my own skin. Not only did I suddenly become acutely aware of my race upon entering Uganda, but I also felt very self-conscious about Ugandans’ perceptions of me. In addition to the race factor, I was especially disturbed by the general quietness of Ugandans, thinking that I would never be able to be my true (loud…) self here.

“Do they think that I have some kind of hidden agenda here as a Westerner? Are they still bitter about the damage that white people have done to their country, and are they indirectly blaming me for it? Is there any way I can possibly serve here effectively with the stigma of being a muzungu following me around everywhere? WILL I EVER MAKE FRIENDS ?!?” During the first couple of weeks, these were the thoughts that raced through my mind each time that I left the comfort of the study abroad program quarters and ventured out into the unknown sea of beautiful black faces on campus or in my community.

Now that I have been in Uganda for a month, however, my racial anxiety has decreased significantly. I still do not enjoy being called muzungu, but I understand now that the intense negative connotation I had been associating with it was my own misperception. I am still not convinced that term is completely neutral in all circumstances, but in many cases it is, in fact, merely a descriptor – and therefore nothing Uganda get upset over ;). I also understand now that just because Ugandans are generally more reserved in nature than Americans (especially the crazy ones like me… 0_o), it does not mean that true friendship is not possible between us. It has definitely taken me more time to make friends here than I expected, but I am especially beginning to feel the seeds of kinship take root in my relationships with my host brothers and my internship colleagues, in particular (I’ll fill you in on my internship soon!!).

{{Rodgers cooking up some beef (African style!)
for a friend's graduation party...with the biggest spoon
I have ever seen in my life!!}}

Another thing that my new exploration of race has helped me to realize is just how much I appreciate the “melting pot” that is America. There are a lot of things about America that I have problems with, but this is something that I think is truly worth celebrating. I didn’t realize how much I have taken the multi-cultural nature of our country for granted until I came here to Uganda, where a far fewer number of ethnicities are represented. (From what I have gathered, there are small groups of people from other African countries here – mostly the neighboring ones like Kenya and Sudan – but the vast majority of the population is Ugandan, through and through.) The fact that in America we have people from all different cultural backgrounds in our own backyard is a unique blessing! I believe that it enriches every aspect of our society, and that it is a small reflection of John’s description of heaven in Revelation 7:9:

“After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb.”

(Now, that’s not to say that America is in any way spiritually superior to a less multi-cultural country. It’s just something that I like to think about. :) )

So, what is my point in telling you all of this in the first place? My hope is that in sharing some of my emotional ups and downs as a minority here in Uganda, you will be able to better empathize with the plight of whatever “minorities” may be in your own sphere of influence. In this sense, I’m not just talking about race. I mean anyone who may feel isolated because they are different. Maybe it’s the single mom in your workplace who can’t ever go out for happy hour with the rest of you because she has to get home to her kids. What can you do to bring the party to her? Maybe it’s your college classmate who feels lonely and disoriented because he’s an upperclassmen transfer. How can you warmly welcome him into your campus community? Maybe it’s the elderly woman in your church who never gets any visitors anymore because her adult children live far away. When can you glitter Sharpie her into your social calendar?!? Maybe it’s the deaf child in your neighborhood who doesn’t have many friends because people are shy about trying to communicate with him. Why don’t you find a way to break the ice?

{{Members of the Ndere Dance Troupe performing traditional
Ugandan dance in flying colors!! Best field trip so far!}}

After all, this is exactly what Jesus Christ calls people to do, and he was the best befriender of marginalized people in all of human history! In all the Bible stories about his life, we constantly see him hanging out with the people that no one else cared to be around. Though he was popular and powerful, he had no problem associating himself with the prostitutes, the thieves, the lepers, the widows, and yes, the ethnic minorities. His mission was to “seek and save” not the confident people who have it all together, but the lost. (Luke 19:10) At the end of time, our attitudes and actions towards “the least of these” will be a determining factor in our eternal destiny, for:

"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’" –Matthew 25:31-40

I encourage you to be intentional about reaching out to the minorities in your life this week, whoever they may be – because I can now tell you from experience that even just the smallest gesture of friendliness can go a long way in making them feel welcome. Invite the stranger in, and you yourself will be blessed!!

{{Me and my youngest brother, Kisaakye!
His name means "grace" in Luganda. :) }}

Welp, that’s all for now, folks! I’m heading out of town this weekend to a city in northern Uganda called Gulu. We will be visiting non-profit organizations that help with rehab for child soldiers and other victims of the civil war that took place in that part of the country for many years. I’ll let you know what I learn when I get back! :)

Until then, be good to yourself and be good to everybody else!

Thanks for caring,

Kelsey Jo