March 4, 2007
Dear Friends
I think this is day 18 since I arrived in Uganda and day 9 since I arrived in Mutolere (pronounced MOW-TOE-LAY),Kisoro, where I will be living for the next 3 years. Yet somehow today, March 4th, 2007 feels like the true beginning of my life as a missionary.
I certainly don’t feel any pressure to bring God to these wonderful people, as they possess a deep religious piety that seems less cultural and more genetic, than in any place I have ever been. Whether attending Sunday Mass at the lovely new chapel on the grounds of St. Francis Hospital (where I live and will soon be working), or daily Mass at one of the 3 convents on the grounds, I will find many young men and women (mostly nursing students) singing and praising God with a fervor I have rarely seen..
Br. James, our Franciscan teacher at the Mission House in Los Angeles said “I believe Marie, Diana, Larry and Lynn will allow the people of Uganda to transform them”. I am living that transformation each moment I am in contact with these people of God.
I am blessed with the help of a lovely young woman named Grace, who quietly and gently instructs me in how to survive in a village and shop at the outdoor market while doing my laundry and cleaning my home at the same time.. She is a gem and once she learns how to cook for me and make Ghirardelli chocolate squares I’ll have it made-ha.
Yesterday Grace and I shopped in Kisoro(the town about 4 miles away), just the two of us. It is hard for a city girl to admit, but if not for Grace, I would have been run over by a car, two motorcycles and a truck-load of vegetables being pulled by cows with horns(no, they are not Bulls).
We took a "car for hire”(a taxi) home. I decided that since Grace said she lived “not far” I would treat her to a ride home. Well, that was an experience of a lifetime. First, she must live several miles away from the hospital grounds, down dirt roads that cars rarely travel, through colorful towns full of people and animals everywhere. All the children are waving and laughing, the women carrying babies on their backs and large bundles on their heads. Not sure what the men were doing, probably watching a game wherever TV reception may be-ha.
No TV reception, electricity or running water in these homes. Walking several miles to fetch clean water in containers is common, as well as collecting rain water, which is plentiful at this time of the year.
While driving down this rocky road, Grace stopped the driver as she saw her grandmother walking along the road. What a regal site, all dressed in bright yellow with orange flowers scattered here and there and on her head the headdress that helps balance the basket filled with “eggs”! She joined us in the taxi and after about another mile we finally arrived at their home. (Grace lives alone with her grandmother, while her younger sister is in boarding school).. I was invited to come inside and the taxi driver nodded I should go, so off I went. I entered a very simply dwelling with a table, three plain chairs and bare cement walls. This was home and they were honored to have me there. I was humbled by their openness and generosity of spirit, as I graciously accepted the six eggs they gifted me with and promised to return to visit her grandmother “Catherine” again when I could converse with her in Rufumbira..
Tomorrow I’ll start intensive language training, as the woman and children I will be working with in the Public Health Dept.(specifically the HIV-AIDS Clinic) know very little English.. Only those who have been educated from 3rd. grade to high school speak conversational English.
I think this is day 18 since I arrived in Uganda and day 9 since I arrived in Mutolere (pronounced MOW-TOE-LAY),Kisoro, where I will be living for the next 3 years. Yet somehow today, March 4th, 2007 feels like the true beginning of my life as a missionary.
I certainly don’t feel any pressure to bring God to these wonderful people, as they possess a deep religious piety that seems less cultural and more genetic, than in any place I have ever been. Whether attending Sunday Mass at the lovely new chapel on the grounds of St. Francis Hospital (where I live and will soon be working), or daily Mass at one of the 3 convents on the grounds, I will find many young men and women (mostly nursing students) singing and praising God with a fervor I have rarely seen..
Br. James, our Franciscan teacher at the Mission House in Los Angeles said “I believe Marie, Diana, Larry and Lynn will allow the people of Uganda to transform them”. I am living that transformation each moment I am in contact with these people of God.
I am blessed with the help of a lovely young woman named Grace, who quietly and gently instructs me in how to survive in a village and shop at the outdoor market while doing my laundry and cleaning my home at the same time.. She is a gem and once she learns how to cook for me and make Ghirardelli chocolate squares I’ll have it made-ha.
Yesterday Grace and I shopped in Kisoro(the town about 4 miles away), just the two of us. It is hard for a city girl to admit, but if not for Grace, I would have been run over by a car, two motorcycles and a truck-load of vegetables being pulled by cows with horns(no, they are not Bulls).
We took a "car for hire”(a taxi) home. I decided that since Grace said she lived “not far” I would treat her to a ride home. Well, that was an experience of a lifetime. First, she must live several miles away from the hospital grounds, down dirt roads that cars rarely travel, through colorful towns full of people and animals everywhere. All the children are waving and laughing, the women carrying babies on their backs and large bundles on their heads. Not sure what the men were doing, probably watching a game wherever TV reception may be-ha.
No TV reception, electricity or running water in these homes. Walking several miles to fetch clean water in containers is common, as well as collecting rain water, which is plentiful at this time of the year.
While driving down this rocky road, Grace stopped the driver as she saw her grandmother walking along the road. What a regal site, all dressed in bright yellow with orange flowers scattered here and there and on her head the headdress that helps balance the basket filled with “eggs”! She joined us in the taxi and after about another mile we finally arrived at their home. (Grace lives alone with her grandmother, while her younger sister is in boarding school).. I was invited to come inside and the taxi driver nodded I should go, so off I went. I entered a very simply dwelling with a table, three plain chairs and bare cement walls. This was home and they were honored to have me there. I was humbled by their openness and generosity of spirit, as I graciously accepted the six eggs they gifted me with and promised to return to visit her grandmother “Catherine” again when I could converse with her in Rufumbira..
Tomorrow I’ll start intensive language training, as the woman and children I will be working with in the Public Health Dept.(specifically the HIV-AIDS Clinic) know very little English.. Only those who have been educated from 3rd. grade to high school speak conversational English.
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