30 April 2009

Stay Alert...Drink Ugandan Coffee!

Green hills, covered in palm trees and colorful concrete houses. And I mean real hills, not small ones. It’s 75 degrees, and sunny, although there was a quick shower yesterday morning. In every direction you see these green hills, kissing the blue sky, which reciprocate the affection with spreads of fluffy white, blue-bottomed clouds.

I’m in Kampala, the capital of Uganda. The climate couldn’t be more different than the hotter, drier climate of my former village in Burkina Faso. But yet, there is a similarity. A shared resilience and joy that defiantly shines in the face of poverty, war, and disease which plagues this continent. I’m on the complete other side of Africa, in a country which allows the equator to pierce right through the middle of it (thank goodness for modern inventions like sunscreen for fair-skinned boys like me).

Uganda is surrounded by several countries that have made recent international news: Sudan, Kenya, Congo, Rwanda, among others. It is also bordered by the largest lake in Africa, Lake Victoria (quite beautiful, I must say). Uganda recently got out of its own problems, where the infamous Ugandan leader Idi Amin slaughtered 300,000 of his own people and exploited the resources. But it is peaceful now, having survived the onslaught. The country is still picking up its feet, and probably will for many years to come (not unlike our own country, still to this day working out civil rights problems that still plague us 150 years after our civil war.)

The people of Uganda speak English, which is a more difficult transition for me than one might imagine coming from a French-speaking country. I constantly have to force myself to speak my native tongue in a land far different from my own, despite the fact that the “oui”s and “ca va”s want to continually creep out of my mouth. Everything that became familiar and home to me in Burkina has been completely flipped upside-down as I now have to learn so much over again.

I am in Uganda on a 5 month internship with a Christian organization called Samaritan’s Purse. It is an organization led by Franklin Graham, a son of the famed evangelist Billy Graham that responds in America and beyond to natural and manmade disasters in order to show the love that Jesus Christ talked about showing to the poor, the hurting, the orphaned, and the hungry, instead of simply talking about it. For example, they recently responded to the earthquake in Italy, and they still are doing clean-up work based in New Orleans.

But they also do a lot of long-term international relief work after disasters happen (which is where I come in!). Samaritan’s Purse came to Uganda to set up a base to send people in to help settle the Rwandan dispute which led to the genocide of so many people (as in Hotel Rwanda). They actually accompanied the UN on its first mission in while the fighting was still going on. But after that problem was resolved, Samaritan’s Purse decided to stick around Uganda and address many of its own issues that resulted from the war in neighboring Rwanda, as well as several other needs that were not being met.

So here I am, roughly 16 years later, trying to figure out why the heck they’ve hired an army brat with a broadcasting degree to come help them in several of their projects in Uganda. One of the first things I assist on is a project they do to support local orphanages.

Samaritan’s Purse gives training, and occasionally materials, to over 40 orphanages in the capital. They cover things like fire safety, first aid, sports programs, and many other things that our American government does, but not every other country does. I was visiting an orphanage right outside of Kampala this morning with Tred, my co-partner throughout these next few months from Wales, to aid a couple local men that do sports programs with the orphans and relate it to a Biblical lesson and how it can be applied to the kids lives. Along the road outside of town, I passed a billboard which read in bright red letters “STAY ALERT…DRINK UGANDA COFFEE!” with a background of fresh coffee beans. And I thought to myself, “What a great idea—a public service announcement, advertisement, and national identity awareness all wrapped into one!”

Now, I have to attest to this amazing Uganda coffee, and admit that it is pretty darn good (sorry Dad, yours is still good too). One of the toughest things about living in Burkina Faso for me was not being able to have the occasional comfort cup of coffee.

I have a long road ahead of me, and will pass many billboards and speedbumps along this road. And no doubt, I will have many “coffee” breaks along the way. But hopefully I will learn something new. There is a comfort here that carries over from Burkina Faso. Despite the many differences, there are many similarities. Most people of Burkina are Muslim; most people of Uganda are Christian. Uganda is a little more developed than Burkina. But there is that shared joy that makes me instantly feel at home, despite me being an obvious stranger.

There’s a saying for us Caucasians, which says, “If you want to know how white you are, go to Africa.” And let me say, I feel as white as ever. But I know God has called me to this place, and I’ve got many adventures ahead of me. Hopefully I will be able to stay much longer than my initial 5 month assignment. I will assist with many projects, including UN food distribution to those affected by drought, AIDS testing, livestock loaning, and many others. But I know that with my limited knowledge, I will probably learn much more than I will be able to ever help others. But God has given me the strength and desire to follow this amazing dream of mine. And for that, I am thankful. But let’s be honest, I’m also thankful home-grown coffee!

Cory