Fun Day at the lake

Today was wonderful, but before I get to that I'll write a short summary of yesterday which was also wonderful.

I spent most of the day relaxing and hanging out with the boys here which was pretty great.  We spent the afternoon playing checkers and being silly and I simply just love being in their company.

For supper, I was going to meet Bill and Ann for supper at a restaurant, and since they were coming back from an out of town trip they asked if Elisha and I could take a boda boda (motorcycle) to meet them at the restaurant.  I said no problem.  So Elisha and I started walking down the street to hail a boda, and Elisha successfully flagged one down. As it turned out, the boda driver had never heard of the place we wanted to go, and Elisha piped up and said he would direct.  I wasn't too sure where we would end up with a 5 year old directing us, so I called one of my local friends to explain to the driver in Luganda where we wanted to go and we made it there without incident.

Today, we took all 72 Eagles Wings Family children out to Lake Nabugabo for the day.  It was so wonderful.  Everyone had an excellent time and I wish I could have taken even a fraction of that joy and captured it in a bottle. We went swimming in the lake which was so much fun.  Supervising 72 children that can't swim was a bit crazy, but I won't soon forget all those squeals of joy.  We also did relay races and the boys played a football (soccer) game, and then we gave each child a winners medal at the end of the day.

I took several hundred pictures and haven't yet started sorting through them, but I'll try and post them eventually.  For now, here is one of my favourite.

Playing Relay games.  I enjoyed watching Mama Sarah (middle left) as much as the children.  She exudes this radiant joy and was cheering louder than many of the children.

Ballet or Barley?

How do I even put these last few days into words. Yesterday the boys here and I played with some enormous bubbles and they loved it.  It was so special to be right in the middle of all that joy.  Some of these boys grew up on the street so for them these moments are part of a childhood they never had. The road to redemption is not an easy path for these boys and despite the many challenges I have been so encouraged by the work here.

Last night as I was up at Youth Fellowship and sitting between two boys.  Here is how the somewhat humerous conversation went.

Boy 1: "Do you have ballet in Canada?"

Me: "Why yes, I did ballet for many years, who told you?"

Boy 1: "I studied it in school, I studied about many of those crops.  Is it related to wheat?"

Me:  "Oh you mean barley, yes we do have barley in Canada"

Boy 2: Starts doing pirouettes. "It is very nice you have ballet in Canada."

Me: "Can we please clarify if we are talking about ballet or barley?"
 
This is just one moment that makes me realize how much I love the challenge of being in another culture. In the end I concluded that one of the boys was talking about barley and one about ballet.  And then after one of the rough and tough street boys, who is a very talented break dancer asked me if I would please come give him ballet lessons.  So I am scheduled to go give ballet lessons next week, to a demographic far different than anyone I have ever danced ballet with.  I love it!

That is all for now,

Jaimee

This picture is a few days old, but we got to go visit Batcher in Kampala.  It was so nice to see him again!

Fun with bubbles.  I had such a wonderful time with these boys.

Welcome Home

It is so good to be back here in Masaka, it has felt like coming home.  I have loved seeing all these people again and yesterday was so much fun. I spent the morning here at Joan's and we tried out the childrens parachute I got and the boys here had so much fun.  At least some of them did.  A few others may have thought they were too cool for such a thing, but I think they had more fun than they were willing to admit.  And I'm glad we got to test it out before all the Eagles Wings Children arrive.  We are taking all the Eagles Wings kids to a nearby lake on Saturday and it's going to be so much fun.

Already, my time here is going by too fast as it always does.  It is going to be a busy week and a half.  The well at Eagles Wings is being drilled early next week, and I'm looking forward to spending some more time here with Soweto Youth Fellowship as well.

I got to be there for the twins first experience with ice cream. They loved it!

Running the race with endurance

Well I really did it.  I ran a race in Uganda.  And in some ways it was better than anything I could have ever dreamed of.  I arrived late on Saturday night, got a few hours sleep and then was up early to make it to the race site in time.  I was so thankful for friends to drive me there and cheer me on at the start and the finish.  As I was walking over to pick up my registration kit these three Ugandan guys passed me, and I’m not even joking they looked like they could have won the Olympics.  And I was wondering what the heck I got myself into.  I was very impressed by the level of organization displayed by the run organizers and it was such a blessing to be part of such an event.

The weather wasn’t too hot with some rain showers, so it actually ended up being quite ideal for a morning run.  I was worried I would be last across the finish line, but I actually think I was somewhere in the middle of the pack.  Although there were a lot of really fast people in front of me.  There were a few hills that I thought might do me in, but I was sure happy that I had ran a 10 km a few weeks back in Birtle with some nasty hills, because that helped prepare me mentally.  Both times, I refused to walk even one step up those hills even though my body and my mind were battling with me to quit.  I was reminded what it means to run a race with endurance and the kids I was running for inspired me to do my best.  It was almost dream like to be running through mud huts and red dirt roads along with other people.  Usually at a race there are people along the way cheering the runners on.  And to be honest sometimes these people give me the inspiration I need to put one foot in front of the other when all I want to do is lie down and quit.  This time, there were village children in tattered clothes jumping up and down as we passed by saying things in Luganda that I couldn’t understand with excited eyes and happy smiles as they put out their hands for high five’s as we ran past.  What better inspiration could I have asked for?

After the race I was able to take a boda boda (motorcycle) over to visit one of my favourite eMi families.  It was such a blessing to be able to spend a short amount of time with them.  As I was on the boda on my way over, these guys on this other boda kept on racing up and yelling things at me, and I realized that as I was riding in a skirt and it was windy out, perhaps I was showing a bit more mzungo thigh than was appropriate in this culture.  So I tried to tuck my skirt in a bit better, ignored them and carried on.  I love riding on bodas, they are so fun:)

So in closing, it was one of my favourite runs to date. I hope it will not be the last in this place I love.  Today I am off to Masaka and am so excited to see all people I love there.

My Run For Eagles Wings Children's Village

“The best way to find yourself
Is to lose yourself in the service of others." 
-Mahatma Gandhi

I am so excited to run a 10 km race in Uganda on October 5! I expect running in Africa to be much the same as visiting it; full of challenge and adventure, and to run in a place that I love so very much. . . there just are no words.

I'll be raising funds for Eagles Wings Children's Village, an orphanage that I have a longstanding relationship with. I am not just running to cross this off my bucket list, I am running for these children that I love so deeply. I run so that I can raise funds and awareness so that the world they live in might become just a little bit better.

Will you join me in this by sponsoring my run? Funds raised will go towards a much needed latrine for the elementary school and any remaining funds into the general fund to help provide care for these precious children. As a water and sanitation engineer, latrines make my heart happy. Especially knowing that these children will have a safe and sanitary one to use, a privilege 2.5 billion people around the world don't have. Thank-you from the bottom of my heart.

Donation Options Include:

Donate On-line here. A Digital Canadian Tax receipt will be issued immediately after you donate.

By Mail:

Cheques with "Jaimee's Run" in the memo line can be mailed to

Eagles Wings Children’s Village
712-133 Niakwa Road
Winnipeg, MB R2M 5J5
Canada

American donors: If you wish to receive a tax receipt please see donation instructions here.



Eagle's Wings- Masaka, Uganda from Halle Project on Vimeo.

Wrestling through life

Some days I wish I could trade the challenges of living in North America for the challenges of being a foreigner overseas. And perhaps someday I will, but for today I remain here and wrestle through what it means to live here after being there.

I sit and I wonder just when it was that those of us in the North American church lost sight of what really matters. When did the service become more about the show than about seeking and knowing, when did the music become more about notes and rhythms than about worship or about really trying to live the words that we sing, and when did being right become more important than dying to self, even if it means burning bridges rather than building them. And I wonder, if those of us inside the church can’t be the stewards of God’s very grace, than who will? If we choose to love only people who love us back, to be generous to only those who have something to offer, than how are we different from anyone else? No one said this would be easy.

I hear the things people argue about and it all just seems petty. When you have met a Mama with empty arms in Rwanda because every single one of her children met the wrong end of machete, and yet here she stands, surviving when maybe she didn’t even want to. And you talk to another Mama who tells you that her two year old asked her if she wants to know what dead people look like, because after 24 short months of life he saw with his own two eyes those blood soaked streets in Rwanda. And then there, right in the middle of the genocide memorial is a life size photo of a child whose last words were “Mommy, where can I run.” Later that week I sit with a group of children and they squeal with wild joy as they play with my hair. So excited they are that they jump up and down and laugh at the strange way my hair feels in their hands. Joy and pain, side by side inside me, and I’m reminded that life is a paradox. Both extremes right there in the same place and I marvel at the thought that I ever saw anything as black and white. 

I sat there in Northern Uganda and saw the aftermath of war and I realized that rehabilitating a child soldier is so much more than I read about in books. It takes more than a gun burning ceremony and a certificate that says “rehabilitated” for these young people to piece their lives back together. Sometimes they choose to return to war and the only life they know, but if they don’t it might take every single day of the rest of their life to fight the battle to rebuild. I remember the ones I met; they had vacant eyes that had had the life sucked right out and I hope that someday the light will return. That their smile will reach their eyes and their joy light up the room.

Without words, people remind me that all these stories are about “those people” “over there.”  But imagine just for a minute, that Mama with empty arms, she could be your sister, because her and you aren’t really so different after all. The little boy who had nowhere to run, he could be your son, wide eyed with wonder and ready to take on the world. And the stories, they are right here beside me too. Someone tells me that the little boy that I once taught in Sunday School here on the frozen Canadian prairies, he survived Rwanda, because his Mom ran through the bush for 3 months straight with him tied to her back. The two of them, were the only survivors in their family. I watch him colour, no different from the other kids, and yet not at all the same. 

And you know what? That little boy, the one who spoke to his Mom of dead people, he is now bent over a desk studying at an Ivy League school. But he does not forget. Because 2 years old is old enough to remember all those things he saw, and he wants to go back to Rwanda so he can make it a better place than the one he remembers as a child. And people like him and his Mama, they inspire me to love when it hurts and when it doesn’t even make sense, and to go out every single day and make the world just a little bit better.  

With eyes wide open

I took my dog out last night.  My mind was busy, and truth be told, as I made the short walk home I was assessing frost heaves in the asphalt. Then for a brief moment I glanced into the skies and saw them. Northern lights. I caught my breath in awe as they danced above me. And I lingered there for some time in silent wonder. Because no matter how many times I see them, they never get old. And as I sat there and watched the heavenly theatrics I wondered how often I walk through life with my eyes down, analyzing faults on the road, when up above me northern lights dance.

Last year when I went camping with my friends, the photographer in the group decided we should stay up until 2 AM so he could get a group shot of us with the starry sky and the Northern Lights above. I have to admit, that at the time, I was tired and cold and I just wanted sleep. But as we made our way out to the beach, I realized why he wanted this shot. Still some soft light on the horizon in the ridiculously long Northern summer daylight, the clear starry sky and Northern Lights above, it was like a little bit of heaven. I won't soon forget that moment or the wonder it beheld. When I was walking with my head down, eyes on my covers, there were others that reminded me to come outside and look up.
 
Right before I went outside last night I was reading a book about the road to Emmaus. About how the disciples walked along heartbroken and defeated because the One they thought had come to rescue them appeared to be dead. They doubted everything their lives had been based upon. They shared all this with the stranger who walked beside them. "There they were, walking with the living Christ, and they had no idea who He was. They were looking past His face and into the abyss that demands proof. They saw His sandals, His hair, His eyes, His robe, but they did not see Him." (Mended, Angie Smith).

I am guilty of much the same. Of racing through life, eyes down, and feeling all alone, when right beside me walks my Saviour. And at times, I do walk with my eyes to the heavens, only to trip and fall on a crack in the road. Instead of getting back up, I stop and focus on what caused me to fall, rather than remembering the lights that dance above.

Last week I went to watch the Watoto Children's Choir. Seeing those kids has special meaning to me, because I've been to Uganda several times, but also because I've been to Watoto. Seeing them in their home context as well as seeing them perform abroad gives me perspective.  As I was watching them sing, there was one little boy, who had shared his story of struggle before coming to Watoto. As he sang the song, his eyes were closed, hands lifted to the heavens, and in that moment, it was only him and Jesus. I didn't want that moment to end because I knew I was witnessing something sacred and because people like him, they know Who walks beside them.