African Muzungu

Standing outside my house with my guard under the African sky cloaked in stars, the sounds of shouting, yelling, and the beating of drums and jerrycans drifted through the night air. I had been filled with curiosity when I heard the commotion, and stepped out to see if Enoch could explain what was going on. He said that the people were shouting and beating whatever objects they could in order to scare away evil spirits. The story passed down through the generations is that when someone sees an evil spirit, they must begin shouting and making noise in order to keep that spirit from entering their house and causing harm to them or their family. The spirit will flee from the noise, and enter into the house where it is quiet, unless those people also hear the noise and take up the alarm. In that way, the alarm spreads to the whole surrounding area as people try to protect their houses and families from the evil spirits. I know that to western minds, the idea is absurd. And even to...

There are some days when I could even fool myself that I work in an office in the States. This week since the kids are out on the second of their three yearly breaks, I took the opportunity to work on the budget for the school for next year. Buried in my laptop for hours on end, I am reminded of why I wouldn’t gladly choose a 9-5 desk job. This morning found me again at work settling in for yet another marathon day of numbers. I have to admit, it’s not work that I enjoy. When I dreamt of my life’s work in Africa, I’m pretty sure I had something more like trekking through the bush, spreading joy, flowers, and candy to every child that I saw. I definitely didn’t envision a dimly lit office, wooden chair, and lcd screen. But the hard truth of life is that in order to accomplish the vision set before us, we must accomplish even the tiresome, seemingly less important or at least less fulfilling tasks as well. Even though if I had my way, each day would be spent just playing with or teaching...

I’m 9 years old, lying in my bed with the blanket of darkness wrapping me snuggly. Many children are afraid of the dark, but not me. It’s the fear of something more sinister that has me paralyzed beneath the covers: demons. I’ve heard stories about them: people seeing them, hearing them, watching objects around the house be moved by them. I peek open one eye towards the door. I’m sure that any moment the form of a demon will appear in the doorway, and a chill runs down my spine. My only small comfort is the form of my sister, Melinda, curled up in the bed beside mine. Her presence brings temporary relief, and I fight to fall asleep in that moment. It’s this way every night. My fear of going to the bathroom at night and walking the halls in darkness surrounded by the spirits of darkness. My steps racing up the stairs to my bedroom, unable to simply walk in the darkness. My cover pulled high over my head, fighting to shut out any hint of demonic activity. At least in the day, I have the...

One of the things my kids love to do in school is tell ‘news’. Each day during the appointed time, one by one the kids jump up front like popcorn singing out, “News, News!” All of the other students chime, “Yes please, tell us!” Then they can tell about things like what they ate for supper the night before, if their cousin is visiting, what they did on school holiday, ect. It’s a fun way to get them out of their shells, teaching them stage presence and improving their English. Well today it’s my turn to tell the news! These past months have been so full, I never really had a chance to catch my breath until this past week when a nasty head cold landed me in bed for   a couple days, and rest was no longer voluntary. But the upside of that is a chance to finally put pen to paper! My 6 weeks in the States were a whirlwind, as I knew they would be. I’m hoping to do a longer post about my brother’s wedding, so stay tuned! I arrived back in Uganda with a team who were an ...