Saturday

Saturday, March 1st

So with my big girl pants firmly in place, I woke up to a new Uganda.  I have picked my leave date as March 25^th.  That is the last day of my consecration, so I figured that it would be a good date to start with.  That is my mantra.  Mary will have me home by March 25^th.

Benny Michael is especially missing his daddy today.  He keeps picking up my tablet and banging on it until I find a picture of Daddy, and then he stares at it, points to it and smiles, and then thumbs through the pictures until his finds more that he likes of him and Paul. 

Our room is tiny, which makes it hard to keep a tiny village child happy.  I could probably keep one of the boys content for a few hours, as long as there was a video device and Wifi, but even they would start to get hot and go stir crazy.  And such is the case for little Michael.  With no WiFi, not fan, no AC, and no room to play, we have been going a little nuts, and it is only day one.  Most of what we do is done on the bed, which means after a day, the bed is dirty and sweaty and unpleasant, bits of crayon, grass, dirt, crackers, smudges from dirt pants legs are all over the sheets.  I am offering this up in multitudes because I kind of freak about stuff like this.

While I prayed and read in the morning, he ripped off all of the paper off of his crayons, and then broke them all into pieces, but at least he is not eating them any longer.  While I unpacked a little bit, he crawled under the bed to see if he could find daddy.  I played music so he could dance for a little bit, and we rode cars all over the bed. It will be an interesting stay, but a good opportunity for him to get used to sitting at a table or desk and eating or coloring or playing.

 

We only have a tiny desk, small closet, and a twin bed in the room, so it is much smaller than the Maria Flow, but I had planned for situations like this.  I brought an over the door shoe hanger, and each pocket has things that we might need so I do not always have to open up suit cases to find things.  There are pockets for the dishwashing soap, the rope to hang laundry on, hair stuff like brush, shampoo and conditioner, pockets for tea packets, sugar, tissues, toothbrush and tooth paste, Lysol spray and wipes.  It is so nice to know where everything is and not be fishing around for every tiny little thing we need during the day.  This is our fourth place to stay in a week and a half; the Emmaus, the Maria Flow, the Metropole and now this, so I might have this down to a science before we come home. 

Whenever we leave a place, everything gets packed in its places, so we can get organized easier.  Michael has his own suitcase with his toys packed in a toy bag.  His toiletries are neatly packed in a cute little blue elephant bag.  He knows rights where to put his things, where to find his diapers, where the snacks are located.  It makes life easier to have an efficient system.    I have a whole suit case labeled with a big “H” for home – things like garbage bags, Lysol, rope for hanging wet laundry, dish soap, food and snacks.  When it is time to pack up, I open the suitcases, and start throwing things in the appropriate ones

There is a large backyard area, but this little place also is an operational restaurant, so playing outside means that we are in the way of guests trying to eat.  With his aim, and left foot strike, we would be fortunate not to take off some lady’s face.  The dining part, where we can get wifi, is full of conceited 20 something trust fund babies from the US that act like they own the place – they all took turns in the communal shower at 1 AM washing off the booze from the house party that they went to, listening to their ridiculous rap music that blared until around 3 AM.  Maybe I will outlast them here, but I doubt it.  They are the essence of “muzingo.”  Nobody respects them, just merely tolerates their presence because they bring money into the city.  Their biggest concern, and the bulk of their conversation was their lack of beer, at 4 PM on a Friday.  Pathetic.

Today however, they are quite hung over, so I have enjoyed playing music for Benny, letting Michael dance and play while the courtyard is empty.  Our tickle fights and his loud squeals when he runs to get his football, have an added benefit of paying them back for this morning’s rude intrusion.  Maybe by the time that March 25 rolls round, I can have them dressing like normal human beings and not being so rude to the people that live and work here.  This afternoon they came out in booty shorts and bathing suit tops – but there is no beach, no place to lay out, no lawn chairs, nothing that screams, “You need a bathing suit.”  Apparently they have not watched the news or read the paper, or even got the new warnings from the US government about public appearance.  When they leave the dining area or common area, all of the Ugandans let out a sigh of relief and start speaking rapid fire Llugandan, every other word is stupid muzingo.  I will just pray for their safety as they ride a boda boda in and out of here.

The lawyer’s assistant stopped in to check on me today and rolled her eyes at the Muzingos, which was pretty funny.  Sometimes they come to go to school here because they have failed out of every other situation in America.  Sometimes they come on a mission trip, and like our drinking age and lack of restrictions so they tell mommy and daddy that they want to study International Policy or Peace Studies.  You must laugh.  One woman said that most of the time, they “Sleep, eat and drink their way through Uganda, never having been to a real village, hung out with real Ugandans.  They sit there and look down on us, while funding the system they hate.  It is sad really, but their US dollars are a necessity to the schools and businesses here.  I bet the Niles they have drank is many.”  And by ‘Nile’s’ she means beers, the two most popular are ‘Nile’s’ and ‘Tuscan Lagers’.

I wrote out a plan for our days today.  We will run our life like a school.  Wake up and email the boys, get dressed, eat breakfast, play outside.  Go inside and read and pray for a bit.  Go outside and eat lunch.  Play in the grass.  Come inside for structured play – counting metal cars, naming colors of crayons, trying to get him to sit and listen to a book for more than 30 seconds.  Literally, in 30 seconds, he tries to color on the pages, chews on the cover, and tries throwing the book or kicking it, so this is a real thing to try and accomplish. 

Dinner is the scariest part of my day.  Dinner is very busy here, and he is a crazy person at the table.  He climbs all over, eats with his hands, is in and out of his seat, spills water everywhere (both on purpose and on accident).  It is the most humiliating and humbling period of the day.  I have to sit and work with him, literally during the whole process, and cross my fingers and pray that God has mercy on me, that Benny is a good student and a quick learner.  I don’t ever even get a plate for myself – besides feeling sick all of the time, I could never even get through a whole plate because I want to get out so quickly.  I order myself something that he will eat, get a second plate, cut the food in half and so goes the meal.  I pray that someday, being at a dinner is not the worst chore ever, but an enjoyable time, where we can sit and eat and talk, and I do not want to climb under the table and wear a napkin over my face.  Manners are not expected but demanded here, a child without them is a direct reflection on whoever the child is with, no matter the circumstances.  If I had the chance, I would stay in my room and eat, and teach him how to eat properly at our tiny table and chair, with our plastic forks and spoons, and help him practice with patience and love.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”

-Philippians 4:6

Soundtrack song of the day:  Forever, Rascal Flats
Novena to The Divine Mercy, Day 1 - all Mankind
Consecration to Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Who are you, O Immaculate Conception, Day 10