Life in a Northern Town

I’ll always call Minnesota “home”. Even though I was born out east in Virginia, and moved around the country a little bit, Minnesota is where I grew up. It’s home. That’s not to say I’ve decided to live out the rest of my life in MN, I’m very open to following my heart and whatever God has planned for it, but if I move away from “home” it’ll come down to me choosing to move away and leave it behind. It won’t be a life or death choice. I won’t have to flee Minnesota in fear of any psychotic rebel group who, given the chance, will either kill me and my family or abduct me and force me to become a killer myself. I don’t have to worry about being cut down because I’m in the “wrong” tribe. But these are precisely the reasons for the women of Suubi to be here in Jinja. They didn’t say “Ya know, I hear that Lake Victoria is pretty scenic, let’s pack up the kids and head on down south.” Despite the success of the Suubi project (these women are earning more money than they ever have in their lives) if they had a choice, many would chose to be at home in the North- Gulu, Kitgum, Arua, wherever. Ok, that may sound a bit negative but just put yourself in their shoes, and think of what they had to leave behind and you’d feel the same way. (at least I do) Don’t think that these women aren’t absolutely happy and grateful to be here and alive, and providing for their families, but the North is home, not here, and they miss it.
This past week, myself and a few other volunteers (Melissa, Kirstin, and Ian) decided to see what “home” is for the women of Suubi and headed north to Kitgum. There was a definite feeling of adventure and even a little danger as we headed out (there hasn’t been any major rebel activity in quite a while, and the consensus is that the LRA has been driven out of the country, but still the fear remains). Plus, we were going alone without anyone who knew Kitgum at all. Ian and Melissa had both been to the North before, but knew nothing of Kitgum. All we knew is that to get there, you get on a bus headed out from Kampala and ending in Kitgum. There was a busline that Ian had used to go North before, but it turned out it didn’t go through Kitgum, and we were diverted to the buspark (Ugandan directions are awesome…”You pass down this way, branch off like this, slope down this way..”). Kampala is such a packed city, there are street vendors everywhere, and if you’re white they all think you’re rich and yell at you to come buy their stuff, so navigating your way through the streets is sort of exhausting. Luckily, the moment we got to the buspark, Jesus showed up. Literally. The exact bus we needed to take pulled up right along side us. Across the front windshield in big white letters was the name JESUS, and sitting on the dashboard was a framed portrait of the savior himself. From here on out, we never really had to rely on ourselves to find the way (talk about a metaphor for life!) Our driver pointed us in the direction of a guest house to stay in for the night. Our room was tiny, but we had a sweet sleepover, and there was a restaurant just down the hall so we didn’t have to navigate Kampala after dark. The next morning we were off at 6am (we were scheduled to leave at 5, but what are ya gonna do?), and for the first 5 hours the ride was smooth. Along the way, buses make short stops at trading centers where passengers get bombarded with people selling all sorts of deliciousness (fresh bananas, fruits, chapate, meat on a stick, and live chickens) so we didn’t need to worry that much about munchies. Then, shortly after Gulu, Jesus broke down. Somehow a bolt snapped off somewhere underneath the bus, and that bolt had some specific important job to do and we couldn’t be without it. But it was an awesome breakdown, because it happened right down the road from an Internally Displaced Persons camp, which I’d wanted a closer look at. IDP camps were set up at a result of the war to alleviate the insane amount of homeless fleeing people, whose villages had been destroyed by the rebels. Basically they’re huge settlements of grass roofed mud huts, where people do their best to scratch out a living…not that different from any village here I guess. It was a little sad to see when you thought about the circumstances that forced the people here, but true to form there were some awesome kids who were all ready to hang out. One of them had a slingshot so we set up a plastic bottle as a target and got schooled in the arts of slingshot hunting. After about 2 hours another bus came by that was headed to Kitgum, so we left Jesus and went on (He never said He’d be physically with us forever, after all. But don’t worry, Jesus did rise again after a few hours. Shall we say 3?) The further north we got, the more remote and beautiful Africa became. At one point we crossed over the Nile and got a rockin view of the most violent, beautiful whitewater I’ve ever seen (remember my love for rapids?). We also saw a few small groups of baboons along the roadside, which was cool to see since monkeys don’t really hang out in Jinja, and I wanted to see some up close. While we were on the second bus, Kirstin ended up talking to a guy who recommended a nice guest house in Kitgum and when we finally arrived we headed straight there. When we got there, we got a short introduction to the night guard, David and checked into our rooms. Little did we know that David would be our ambassador to Kitgum, a genuine angel, and basically the highlight of our trip…
The tentative plan when we got to Kitgum was to head out into the bush and search for a certain village where some of Betty’s relatives still live. We had the names, but no idea where to start. Enter David. He knew of the area and some guys who could take us there by motorcycle. The ride through the northern bush was loaded with breathtaking scenery…endless green plains, some rolling hills, mountains in the distance on all sides. (check out my pictures) On the downside, for every sweet view there was an IDP camp along the way that remided me of the struggles of the North, and it’s haunted past.
After about an hour we reached a village/camp called Raaokun that David thought might be the right one. With David acting as our translator, and after a quite a bit of confusion, we figured out that the village we were looking for might be further down the path so we headed back into the bush. We found the next village with no problem, but that wasn’t the right one either. All this was eating up a lot of time, and stress was starting to mount, so we decided to head back to Raaokun to see if we could maybe stay there for the night. David was a complete rockstar (really, I can’t stress enough what a helpful, selfless man he is) and he convinced the chairman of the village to provide a hut for us to sleep in, and also some food for supper. It was awesome to see how much David cared for us, and above anything he was campaigning most heavily for our safety. Raaokun is settled right in the shadow of a small mountain so ,after a few more provisions from Davey boy, we hiked up for the grandest African scenery of my time here at sunset (everything I described earlier all in one huge dose from the top of a mountain). When the sun went down, we spent time talking (and had an awesome little time of prayer) with the residents of Raaokun as our supper was being prepared. And after we ate, we turned in for the night. It was such a surreal feeling to be sleeping the night in a mud hut deep in the African wilderness, with so much uncertainty (and the potential for some serious danger) all around us. But God was so present there with us, and sleep finally came. (especially slow for me because there were some enormous cockroaches and spiders crawling around all over the place).
We woke the next morning and went back up the mountain for the sunrise, and we got to witness as each beautiful moment tried to outdo the previous. Unreal.
David would be returning to pick us up around midday, so we had a few to wait in which time we got to experience a day in the life of an IDP camp—a lot of nothing it seemed. I won’t lie, it all felt a little hopeless. It was a tough dynamic to deal with. On one hand, you have raw beauty all around you, on the other a group of people who are struggling just to survive every day…
Our time in the village ended on kind of a sour note with the “chairpeople” trying to squeeze way too much money out of us for the night’s stay, and we left a little annoyed, but with an awesome experience.
That night back in Kitgum, we took the amazing David and his amazing family out to a nice dinner in appreciation for everything he’d done for us. The uncomfortable truth is that many African men are content to let the women do the bulk of work (at least that’s what I’ve seen and heard) and aren’t the most caring of fathers. This couldn’t be farther from the truth for our man David. He is an incredibly loving husband and father, he and his wife shared stories of their youth as they fell in love, and the plans they have for their future and the hope they have for their children. Just getting to know David over the past few days, and seeing what a determined rational man he is, we knew that he was so sincere and ready to do anything to give his family everything they deserved. Along with the men in my family, David is a shining example of the kind of man and father I hope to be. Like I said before (and told him many times), I believe that God sent David as an angel for us in the North, and I will never forget the man.
We said our goodbyes and hit the sack, only to get up a few hours later to leave at 5am for the busride home, but that wasn’t without a last minute goodbye from David as we were waiting to leave (yeah, he rushed over to the buspark at 5 just to see us off.)
The ride home was long and uneventful, but a great opportunity to process everything we’d experienced and to thank the Lord for everything he’d provided along the way…
It was an awesome trip, and with only 2 weeks remaining here in Africa, I feel so fortunate to have been there in the North, and to have seen what the women of Suubi call home.
So remember, folks, when Jesus pulls up in front of you, just jump on and ride it out. It’s a sweet ride.