Would you rather??

Each day I anticipate a new adventure, but it seems to go by so slow, but somehow I am here again.  Sitting and thinking about my week.  We had a teacher team come help this week so transportation was rough, but I still was able to find joy in this culture, in these people, and with my team.

 My relationships with the children are growing and I admit I have my favorites.  First we have Janet.  She is an extremely stubborn 15 year old girl. She always asks for me, and when I come its like she doesn’t want me there.  Next we have Monica.  She is probably 5 years old and I want to stick her in my suitcase.  She has the cutest giggle and loves to be held.  She crawled into my lap one night this week and after a short time, she was holding on to me tight and fast asleep.  Then we have Gloria.  She is 13 years old and is precious.  She tells me I am funny and strong.  She asks all sorts of funny questions.  She finds it fascinating that my dad likes to cook and that we have a magic box that cleans our clothes (my attempt to explain a laundry machine.)  She told me I look like the mother of Jesus and asked me what the name “Rebecca” meant, I told her, “the gifted dancer.”  She believed me. I must have impressed her with my skills. 

The babies home was different this week. We didn’t get pep talk, we just went for it.  I tried to bathe a baby and she just cried the entire time. She was still so cute.  I also played with a little girl named Monica (not to be confused with the other Monica).  We knew she was paralyzed and tried to be as cautious as possible.  Chelsey and I were playing with her and all the sudden she fell back on her head and began to sieze.  It was so scary.  We had no idea what to do and Chelsey yelled for help.  One of the nuns came and she didn’t even flinch.  She began to tell us that she also has epilepsy (cool thanks for the warning!).  This little girl is so full of joy and it broke my heart to hear more of her condition. 

Me and some of the girls attempted to go on a run. It went okay minus the fact I was in Vans and we were almost trampled by some cows along the way.  We also ran through a little village, we made a baby cry and run back into the house because of our skin color.  I love being the first white person kids see, its like being a celebrity.

This week has been filled with some pretty intense conversations, both challenging and enlightening.  The girls are such a blessing to me.  We all came to Uganda praying to be transformed and I can already see that happening for each of us (Romans  6: 1-8). 

Read with Caution:
I also had a CRAZY conversation with the locals.  We went to our village partnership homes again.  Jill and I helped pull plants from the ground and then took the leaves off for some sort of sauce they were going to make.  While taking off the leaves, Jill and I found ourselves whispering to each other, “is this really happening.”   I don’t know how it started, but it started with them telling us about a tribe (not close to us) that kidnaps kids and eats them. Yes. Eats them. As in cooks them, and eats them.  It then drifted into what the LRA did in towns very close to us.  Susan told us stories of tribes that would be attacked by the rebels.  She said that the rebels would take out pots and cook people and force their family and friends to eat them.  If they couldn’t eat them they would be killed and if they did, they would be considered strong enough to be a part of the army.  She said there was a school where the head master was killed and the kids were told to eat him.  It then got turned into the most disturbing game of “would you rather.”  They asked me if I would rather eat my friends or die. I couldn’t believe they were even asking me this, but for them, this is reality.  They said that if you chose to eat your friends you had to appreciate them like a meal.  You had to say thank you and you couldn’t cry or vomit or else you would be considered weak. The conversation drifted into the fear during that time and what they would do if the rebels came back.  They both said they would stay with their families and let it be God’s will because they wouldn’t have enough money to run. 
I asked them about their views on the United Nations and America. James told me the UN was good for food but nothing else.  He also said that without America they would all be dead.  He said that some countries may hate America, but as an American coming to Uganda, you will be nothing but loved.
            The intensity dwindled with a conversation about pets.  I told them I have turtles and they were fascinated.  Why would you have turtles? When you call, they don’t even come? Whats the purpose? To be honest I don’t really know.  No offense Mufasa. 

            Please be praying for my health and the health of my team.  We are useless without happy bodies.  I have been challenged everyday and my thoughts are scrambled, I need prayer for clarity as well.

Dangaber

BTW: Held a baby goat, ate a bug, acted as Angel Gabriel for our birth of baby Jesus skit. TIA.

Amare Metek

First, I want to apologize for not writing when I had internet last week. I didn’t know we would have it that day and I felt completely overwhelmed and after writing two emails I was exhausted.  My first week was full of emotion.  I am so blessed by the group of girls here. We have girls from California, Oklahoma, Florida, Nebraska, and our very own globetrotter.   Yes we are craving cheeseburgers, but everyone keeps their complaining to a minimum and lends a hand when they have the opportunity.  I could write for days, but I would like to point out the days in which I was most touched.  I apologize in advance for the length.  Grab yourself a cup of coffee…

Prison:  Well I never thought I would ever do prison ministry nor did I even understand its purpose to be completely honest.  Fortunately it is not up to me.  I had planned to walk in, observe our leader, and maybe participate next time. HA.  God had other plans.  We split the group. 7 girls would go to the women’s, and 5 brave souls would go to the men’s side.  Some girls have a lot of fear when it comes to men, so I took a step forward and volunteered to go to the men’s side.  I found myself walking into a courtyard of 500 Ugandan men guilty of things like murder, theft, and treason.  I felt like my heart was going to explode.    Even my leader, who is a male, seemed a little nervous.  Their songs of praise quickly calmed me.  They were smiling and thanking God for where they were.  I don’t understand that, but that isn’t the point.  It never is.  We were asked to speak.  All of us, I had no escape.  I began to pray. God, what do they need to hear? What on earth does a prisoner need to hear? A murderer? Who the heck am I to know that? I am blonde girl from California who likes an iced coffee and gets excited over a new pair of heels that I got on sale from buffalo exchange.  But, I am also a daughter, a sister, and a believer.  I told them, 500 men all dressed in yellow prison uniforms they were my brothers in Christ.  I used the concept in Ecclesiastes 3… time.  Time to laugh, cry, grieve, and forgive.  Here is the kicker.  Somehow God used me to challenge them to see this as a time to repent for what they had done.  I was not speaking at that moment; it was much bigger than me.  The other 4 girls spoke too, all beautiful encouraging words.  Our leader asked if any of the men wanted to be saved or wanted to rededicate themselves.  Those who did were asked to come to the front.  I stood there, rejoicing with 38 men who came forward in an African jail. 

Barlonya: I have never been so angry.  We went to see a city that was effected by Joesph Kony’s LRA in 2004.  After about an hour drive, we arrived.  We arrived to a monument and a group of men that proceeded to tell us about the event.  The great thing about being with locals is that they tell you a closer version of the truth.  The men leading the “tour” said about 300 people died and 27 children were abducted.  Later our friends from COTN said the number was closer to 700, and that they have to lie because the government threatens their safety.  We came across a young girl who was dying of AIDS, she was 3 years old, but looked like she was 6 months old.  She was frail and struggling to open her eyes.  No one ate their lunch that day. It was mentally exhausting and something I cannot fathom.  This girl would probably die very soon if not given intensive medical treatment and basic things like food and water.  Later that day we ran through our thoughts from the day.   I found myself crying and trying not to raise my voice when talking with the pastor because of frustration.  I was pissed, I still am pissed and I don’t even know who to direct my anger towards.  The girls thought if we cut down on our luxuries we could make a difference.  I found myself explaining to them that if we don’t by the tomatoes and onions from the little man in the market, then he has no money, and then it is his children who will by dying of starvation.  It is a vicious and disgusting cycle.  We sat there trying to solve poverty.  After two hours, we remained.  In the same place we started. Helpless, hopeless, and confused. 

Lira Babies Home- Babies. Everywhere.  My dream come true… well kind of.  5 nuns run Lira Babies Home and it isn’t far from where we live.  We were able to help with the babies, do laundry, or pull peanuts from the ground so they could make baby food out of it.  I met Luciano who is a twin and is a tiny, tiny, miniature and precious little baby (probably 3 months ish).  A little stinky, but so cute.  I played with her for a little and felt bad because I wasn’t doing any manual labor… I pulled peanuts from the ground and was told I would make a good African wife. Holla. I went back to my baby because it was crazy hot and pulling peanuts from the ground is tough work.   I held Luciano and sang my made up songs to her.  This little cute bundle of joy fell asleep on my chest.   It was precious, but it meant I had to go put her into her crib.  No worries, plenty of other babies to sing silly songs to J

Village Partnership- I am going to attempt to explain this.  There are 58 children who live in the village permanently and go to school here.  There are also about 150 others who are considered to be village partnership kids, who just come for school.  They usually live in a one-parent household or just live with their grandmother.  We all split up into groups of 3 to help those families with anything the needed help with.   I went to Solomon’s house who lives with his grandmother and is crippled by AIDS.  I fetched water from the well and sorted beans with a plate looking thing made of dried cow poop (these people are innovative!).  I felt like I was on “The Simple Life with Paris Hilton” because all the African folks laughed at us “munos” (white people) doing their chores.  I had dirt all over me and was sweating like no other, but they were so grateful when we were finished.  We will do this once a week, and I hope to catch a baby goat like one girl on my team!

Our New Home:  We are finally moved into the childrens’ village.   We were living in the guesthouse for the first week while they made preparations for us.  It is going to be quite the summer.  We pump and fetch our own water.  Our showers consist of taking a pail of water that we scoop from our huge trashcan-looking thing full of water in the bathroom.  When the sun goes down at about 7 pm, our flashlights turn on.  The people at COTN are too kind to us.  We have a lady who basically lives with us who does our laundry, and I came back today and she had made my bed.  They have gone out of their way to try to make us feel comfortable.  They even run a generator at night so we can have light for about 2 hours.  It makes us all feel like divas, so we are asking to get rid of it. I live in a room of 10 other girls with bunk beds.  It is hard to find alone time to just breathe, but we are getting used to it.  I am anxious to start computer training, money management, and assisting with sponsorship needs.

MISC: A man named Walter taught me to sew (that’s right, mama).  I am picking up Luo (local tribes language) pretty fast.  I am rockin my Mom’s long dresses.  I held a baby that was a week old.  They call me Rebecca here.   Becky is apparently very difficult for them to pronounce.  They said they would call me “Becca” but we all know how I feel about that…

I am having a great time, but I’d be crazy if I wasn’t homesick.  Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers J I will not be able to send post cards ( by the time the got to America I would be home already and postage is pretty pricey) Just so ya know!

Obanga mi gumm

<3 Becks 

Lets Rock n' Roll!

Its crazy to think that in my 21 years of living I have already done 3 half marathons.  34,000 runners showed up this time. San Diego was the place to be on June 5th, it was crazy!  After waking up at 3:30 am  and sitting in an hour of traffic, I ended up running down the 5 freeway to make it to the start line on time!   It was prefect weather and a fun route.  My ipod died on mile 7, but I had my fancy watch to keep me going!  After I finished I scarfed down a bagel and waited for my fans, commonly referred to as mom, dad, and sarah,  to find me.  It was a fun race, way too many people, but I would do it again :)

Sarah pretending she did the race!

Victory!

this guy

this guy makes me laugh. all the time. 

Hotel del Coronado :)

Feet

My feet are blessed.   Hear me out because I am stuck on this idea.  I keep thinking about the last time I was in an airport, I was conquering a task for my bucket list by simply people watching. So then I questioned, when was the last time I stepped foot on an airplane? Ah yes, Italy… A country of elegance, prestigious fabrics, rich food, and classical art. My feet touched cobblestone the last time I stepped foot on foreign land. 

Since then my feet have been blessed to walk across a college campus situated right above the ocean, to stand beside my sister on her wedding day, run a half marathon, and learn to swing dance. 

My feet are about to entire foreign territory yet again. Instead this time it will not be cobblestone.  In three weeks I will step off American soil and into African desert.  I will step out of freedom and security and into poverty and a culture fighting the aftermath of a civil war.  My feet are blessed.  They are blessed to see the world, not for what I hope or think it is, but for what it really is. 

In my bible study, we talked about what God had been teaching us in the last year.   God revealed to me a new view of the concept of washing one another’s feet.  By having someone wash my feet, I am vulnerable and by washing theirs I am selfless. It was beautiful to both receive and to give during that experience.  Having my feet washed was an analogy for letting down insecurities and allowing people to care for me even in my weakest trials.  It is my turn to wash.  I believe I am equipped for the next two months.  I am ready to learn how to be more and more selfless everyday, by washing feet.  No, I will not literally wash their feet everyday, but I hope to share a love for them that allows them to let down insecurities and create a safe environment to go through the good and the bad, not alone, but together. My feet have been blessed, its time for me to return the favor.

 Thank you to everyone who prayed, encouraged, and/or financially supported me the last 7 weeks, I am shocked by God’s power and love and my gratitude to you all is endless.    

5,563-5086=$477

UPDATE!!!
So I just found out we got our flights and because of fuel prices they were crazy expensive!!! Therefore instead of $5,000 I need $5,563 by sunday.  Right now I have $5,086 so i need $477  by sunday!  That is a lot of numbers to take in!

Please be praying, and if you would like to financially support me, please contact me on the most efficient way to do it, since it is crunch time!!!

Thanks for all your support and love.

SHOCKED

Tomorrow my junior year will be over and God has done unimaginable things to shape me into a woman of Christ.  It has been hard work to say the least, but there is no greater victory than enduring the race. 

            Gods promise is true and I have beautiful friends and family.  To be honest, I was expecting a maximum of $300 for the garage sale… boy was I in for a surprise.  I walked into my house on Friday, to see my friend Jill, her husband Mike, my sister and Greg, separating a house full of garage sale items.  There were bags upon bags of clothes, a huge desk, baseball bats, rollerblades, cups, plates, towels, a mattress, chairs, and even a Jefferson statue.  My living room, family room, and side yard was full.  Family, friends, and friends of friends had brought stuff over to my parents’ house in hopes that there would be plenty of shoppers.

            By 6am on Saturday morning, my Dad was up making omelets for all the helpers and the garage sale crew was busy putting up signs and dragging everything out the driveway.   We laughed a lot and even found some treasures for ourselves.  I was able to have awesome conversations with my mom and tell neighbors about what I will be doing in Uganda.  By 2pm my sister gave the final total…. $780.00. I was shocked. God had called me to this, but seeing his promise be fulfilled is overwhelming because to be honest 6 weeks ago, I was scared. 

            My shots are done and my prescription for malaria is ready to go.  I am about a month away from stepping on a plane and into a different culture.  I am so open to serve the people in Uganda and to the lessons that God has to teach me through this internship. 

            I will be teaching money management and computer training to the staff.  I will also be helping take sponsorship photos and helping the kids write letters to the people that support them. 

            Please be praying for my team, as many of them are still anxiously waiting for envelopes to arrive in the mailbox.  I am very close to my goal and I cant thank you all enough for believing in my ability to show love to the people in Africa, it is unbelievably humbling.