News from Africa, Arkansas and Anywhere I happen to be at the moment

Follow me as I "Celebrate the Journey" of my life: Recently in Kisoro Uganda,for three years as a medical missionary(Lay Mission Helper-www.laymissionhelper.org) working with those infected and affected with HIV-AIDS, Public Health and babies at risk. Presently,in Arkansas awaiting my next "Call" to service.

Monday, April 02, 2007

Hosanna Hosanna Hosanna


April 1, 2007 Photo of St, Francis Hospital – Mutolere taken from Parish Church –on the hill
Dear Friends

It is April 1st and how I would love to play a joke on you but I am not fool enough ,I could get away with it so many miles away. So, instead I’ll tell you of my week in Uganda, Africa.: I now have a hot shower and trust me when I say HOT!. There seems to be no middle ground in this country
I also have a refrig and a microwave. I didn’t want a microwave but I got one anyway, according to the Administrator of the Hosp.,” a sophisticated one” that can cook anything-ha.. If anyone has any tips on how to cook tender meat , hard boiled eggs or anything else , please tell me ASAP..

Today , Palm Sunday, was a treat. I attended Mass at the parish church, instead of the hospital chapel . I didn’t have my camera and would not have felt comfortable using it, but I’ll try and paint a picture for you.

OK, here goes: Imagine hundreds of men, woman and children climbing a hilly road to attend Mass at 8:30 am Palm Sunday. Most are dressed in traditional African dress ; many colors and fabrics draped around them and adorning their heads matching scarves. Many of the woman had another blanket wrapped from their backs and tied in front . This blanket held their safely tucked baby who could have been born yesterday or be as old as three years. .
. The older woman and men carried well varnished sticks about six inches thick, that they use for support as they climb the two mile hill to the church. A few motorbikes , numerous people walking their bikes and maybe two cars zip by us. Sr. Justine,( remember Sr. denotes being a nurse not, necessarily a religious sister) my supervisor, carries her adorable 17 mo old daughter Olivia while I carry the palms to be blessed (BYOP- It’s “bring your own palms” in Africa.). Half way up the hill Justine and I trade bundles.
Everyone greets each other pleasantly in spite of the distance or incline, while I, with Olivia on my hip, try not to embarrass myself too much with my huffing and puffing-ha
What is, obviously, a social occasion to the Ugandan people feels like a pilgrimage to me. I am expecting to see a vision of Jesus or the Blessed Mother at the peak of this journey, but happily settle for a pew with a back support on it.-smile.
Since I was the only muzunga (white person) in the crowd, I did not go unnoticed. The children flocked around me as if I were a celebrity, while the elderly shake my hand and bow seeming to want a blessing.. Their response is understandable when you see their statues and painting of Mary and the saints: never has she been so white and blond hair? Come on, will somebody tell these beautiful people that Jesus and his Mom probably looked a whole lot more like them then me!
Ok , now we are in the church and they take Justine, Olivia and myself to the first row to sit with the religious sisters (no blending in here). The church is adorned with palms and everyone is waving theirs in the air singing “Hosanna, Hosanna”, To my left are rows and rows of children singing and waving their palms, each dressed more festively than the next. Imagine the dresses American little girls wear , maybe once, for first holy communion or a party. Imagine a couple of hundred of those dresses in every color and every condition—it matters not. They may have dress shoes on or flip flops but most are barefoot. To the right of me are older children who are in the choir dressed in white dresses or matching green skirts, shorts(for the young boys) with green paper crowns on their heads to celebrate Jesus’s entrance into Jerusalem. Shortly after the scripture readings , the children (on the right side) file up to the altar and gently, at first, begin to sway to the music. Then the swaying turns into dance and it is wonderful!!!
As the Mass continues in their native language –Rufumbria—I am mesmerized by the music, the singing, the dance and the reverence. Truly God is in this place!!! The collection baskets are woven and decorated and not passed around but held by the altar boys while the entire congregation files up to put their shilling or two in the basket. At the end of the liturgy,. the children, again, sway up to the altar, followed by anyone , mostly the young children and woman, who join them in the swaying. .
. Then just when you think it is over the music changes and the tempo picks up and all the children and woman start really dancing , actually jumping up and down. The Priest looks on approvingly as little tiny children and elderly woman in traditional garb and walking sticks, start jumping up and down., barefoot on a cement floor. It is glorious, rousing and if you don’t feel the Spirit there, you’ll never feel it..
Leaving the church is like leaving a rock concert, gobs of people leaving at once, but without the fear of being trampled as it is all in slow motion. No one seems to be in a hurry for this special time to be over. Each grandmother must be acknowledged, each tiny child hugged, each visitor greeted. Carol, at the Mission House, used to speak of hospitality, this is Hospitality with a capital H..
I think coming down the hill was more challenging than climbing up, with rocks to skid on and bikes and motorbikes flying by, but again no one seemed to notice, they were too full of the Spirit and community to notice.
I am home now feeling quite full myself:. I know I am not Ugandan , but I share their religion, and for a few hours I was a part of something “not of this world.”
HOSANNA HOSANNA HOSANNA
.

4 Comments:

  • At Tue Apr 03, 06:03:00 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

    Oh Dear Marie, You have filled my heart with overflowing joy as I read of the beautiful encounter of the bird in the Church disguising "Queen Rebecca". Your descriptions get better with each blog. You are a communicator, extraordinaire, in more ways than one, of the language of love. What a moving tribute and testimony to the reality of things unseen with the eye, but definitely known to the spirit. The picture you painted of "Palm Sunday" pilgrimage really resonated with be because I have seen first hand the "Watoto Children's Choir",actually twice. Their vibrance, incredibly white teeth and special way of breathing when they sing is bursting with celebration and praise. Out of that my 'group sisters" and I came to sponsor a mom at the Watoto Village, also in Uganda, who oversees a cottage of 8 orphans. She herself is a grandmother and widow, having lost so many family members to Aids related deaths. We have been her sponsor for 2 years. Also I am in my 22 year of sponsoring children through World Vision, all in Africa. I thought of you and shared a spiritual Eucharistic meal on Palm Sunday. We made crosses out of the palms for each of the kids,grandkids and one for those we carry in our heart. I emailed Bonnie, but did not hear back from her. I need to know how to contact "the miracle workers", and get tips of how to send items. Forgive me for writing this in your blog, but I'm not sure which way you will receive infor quickest. I'm at a loss until someone contacts me.
    So, this Blog response comes with all our love and joy for a most miraculous Easter resurrection Sunday, and the relavance of the whole Holy Week to be deeply seeded in each of us.
    As I go about my job with the children at school, it feels like some of what you might experience. We have two African kids, Kakoma Mwale and his sister and so many other's. The anglo's are only 25% of the student population. It is truly 'multi-cultural. So, as we all rejoice together and celebrate new life on every dimension, we remain kindred friends and sisters, in a very big and beautiful family. We love you, Marie....Mary and family

     
  • At Wed Apr 04, 08:29:00 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

    God bless you Marie. Your story is inspirational. Love you and pray for you and your mission.
    Louis and Paul

     
  • At Sun Apr 08, 07:40:00 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

    Dearest Maria
    You should write a book about this experience. Just using your blogs I could write one for you if you desire.
    Your descriptions of people, the place and things you do are great!
    God has put in a place to do His work whether as a nurse or fund overseer..follow His lead and go forth.
    Happy Easter Day and may God continue to bless you and your endeavors.
    Mary and Dick

     
  • At Mon May 07, 09:18:00 AM , Blogger RobbyeFA said...

    Marie!

    You are my such an inspiration to me and the personification of the phrase "joie de vie"!

    Thank you for my one-day-early birthday wishes... you have ensured that it will be a great one!

    I am so happy for you that you are living out your dream in Africa! You are such a blessing to those people - as you are to everyone with whom you come in contact.

    I'll write more in a personal email...

    I love you my pink angel birthday buddy!

    RobbyeFA

     

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