Chapter XIX
December 16, 2006 (continued – still at the wedding reception)
Over the next few hours there were a number of dance and song tributes to the bride and groom from various groups – the Mother’s Union, different parts of the family clans, a youth group. Then began the SERIOUS speeches. Many people got up to speak. One of the groom’s former high school teachers gave a glowing recount of his (Emmanuel’s) entire high school career including grades earned and awards won (this was the portion in English, there was at least an equal part in Rukiga). Various relatives of the bride’s spoke both on their own and in behalf of David and Constance who weren’t allowed to be there personally. Then the father of the groom got up. And stayed up. He welcomed each guest by name and with an explanation of who they were in relationship to the family. When he got at last to introducing the woman who had been the flower girl at his own wedding 30 years in the past, I thought surely he must be finished. But NO! There was more to go, both in English and Rukiga and by the end of this speech I was in that place where you are mentally listing the names of foods in the local grocery store by aisle just to keep from either going crazy or falling asleep. When I was aroused with a start from my trance by the sound of applause I thought, “OK, he had to have been the keynote speaker. The speeches must be finished.” But NO – it was now time for the bride and groom, matron of honor and best man, to arise and go to stand in the middle of the crowd near the table containing the cakes. To cut the cake? – I thought recklessly?! But NO – now it was time for the best man to recount each moment of his friendship with the wedding couple. And THEN, the groom’s turn to speak. By now I was swaying on my feet, tempted to grab hold of Patience to remain standing, but knowing it would be very bad manners. I thought – surely the groom won’t want to talk too long. And then I saw him pull a notepad from his pocket with two pages of notes written. Back to the grocery store aisles – “produce section – apples, pears, oranges, kiwis……” Finally, he closed the notepad, spoke for about five more minutes, and it was time to cut the cake. We proceeded to the cake table (slowly) to the strains of the Wedding March done in a very strange key and with a whistle being blown at various intervals. The cakes were absolutely beautiful and arranged nicely on the table. The bride and groom placed their hands on the knife, pressed down to make the traditional cut and – candles on the table similar to July 4th sparklers were ignited. If I hadn’t still been in a semi-trance from the speeches, I probably would have jumped a foot in the air to the great delight of all around, but I didn’t. Until the shaving cream began flying all over the place. That was a shock. People all around the table were spraying the wedding party with shaving cream. I had big globs all over my dress, arms and hair. It is evidently standard wedding reception behavior there because everyone else took it in stride and cheered and clapped. Maybe I should take a few cans of Silly String with me next time and start a whole new trend. The rest of the reception was much like the one the day before at the Give-Away. Patience and I took pieces of cake to the members of the groom’s family and knelt to present them. Then we got to sit down while the rest of the brides maids took cake to the rest of the people. Patience presented whole cakes to various people who were special in the wedding preparations, and one to me! That was a real surprise, and brought tears to my eyes. I certainly never expected that. By the time the cake was distributed and eaten & the gifts presented and appreciated, the sun was beginning to go down. Remember, the sun comes up at 07:00 and goes down at 19:00 – every day of the year. So, it was now almost 8 hours after the wedding officially began. It was finally time to go home and people began drifting away, back down the mountain to various cars and trucks where as many bodies as possible were squeezed in to transport everyone back to Kabale Town. There certainly seemed to be less vehicles here now than there were before, and no one here ever seems to feel responsible to provide rides home to the people they brought here. So there was a lot of knocking on car windows and pleas for “just one more person” to squeeze in. And, finally, we were back home with David and Constance and it was time to collapse.
We had mentioned to Fr. David that it might be nice to purchase a small home in the area to stay in when we were there for longer than a few weeks (after we retire), and also for anyone else from our church who may want to visit Kabale. Right across the road from Fr. David’s house, there is an almost completed home made of brick on a relatively small lot. The walls are built but there is no roof yet. We asked him about it, and were told it was the home of the professor whose funeral we had attended back in August, and that he had not finished it before he died. He said he would inquire of the widow if it was for sale and also check on lots for sale that we could maybe build on some day. As Rick and I had decided to pay the fees for Mary to go to school, we spent the next day seeing the school where she would be going, and buying her uniforms, sweater, shoes, book bag etc. That was so much fun! She was very happy and came over to model her uniform for us after we got home.
We pretty much rested the last two days there, and then began the marathon trip back to Kampala. Again, I amused myself by thinking of things I would rather do than make this trip – being locked in a room with a boom box blaring rap “music,” having nothing but buttermilk to eat or drink for the rest of my life, etc.
Finally on the way back to the U.S., we were on a layover in Washington, D.C. when we noticed an unusual number of white couples with black infants and small children. The children all seemed very comfortable with the adults and the adults called themselves mommy and daddy to the kids. So, of course, I had to ask one of them what was the scenario. I was told they were a group from Washington State who had all gone to Ethiopia to adopt AIDS orphans. I asked how long they had been there – how much time they had to bond with the children before bringing them home. Three days!!!! They had all arrived in Ethiopia on Wednesday, been given the children they had pre-arranged for, and were back on a plane home on Saturday. I couldn’t believe it. They all seemed like family already, the children and the adoptive parents. One woman told me a heart wrenching story. She and her husband have taken 18 month old triplets to raise. The Ethiopian father had died of AIDS, and the mother was very sick and ready to die soon also. The mother had signed over her triplets to this family and said goodbye to them forever because she knew she was dying and wanted a good life for them. The adoptive mom said it was one of the most emotional things she had ever been through – saying good-bye and seeing the mother part from her children. I continue to pray for all these husbands and wives who went to so much trouble to do what they could for these hurting people.
Once home, we began to get pictures and descriptions from Fr. David of various homes and lots for sale in the Kabale area. He was not going to let us forget that we had discussed having a home there some day. Soon, the homes in the pictures began to get larger and larger until he sent us the picture of a hostel in downtown Kabale that was for sale. Eleven rooms, kitchen, bathrooms, courtyard, enclosed compound – the works. For about $25,000.00. Well, we didn’t have that kind of money. I said to Rick – “for Heaven’s sake, some of these places he is sending us pictures of are big enough to start an orphanage.” There was a long moment of stunned silence as we looked at each other, looked away, looked back, the same thought dawning in both our minds at once, both of us trying to not give voice to it. And neither one of us did actually say anything out loud at that moment– but from that moment on, we knew we were destined to build an orphanage in Kabale. Somewhere in my mind I could see Fr. David dancing around, hands raised in the air, knowing his prayers had once again been answered. God had evidently told Fr. David what we would do before He told us. We had absolutely no idea how we would even begin to do this thing. And then, in the mail, came a completely unexpected windfall check. Now, for the last 20 years, Rick has yearned for a Harley Davidson motorcycle. So, when the check came, he bought one. A month later, he sold it and bought a less expensive motorcycle, putting the profit into the bank to start an orphanage. He then sold the nice almost new truck we had just bought a few months before and bought a cheaper one. That money went into the orphanage fund. A few weeks later I was visiting patients in the hospital. A man approached me and asked me to come pray for his brother who was dying of cancer. The dying man had already lapsed into a semi-coma. There were several family members in the room when I came in. I laid my hands on the man and prayed for him, for peace and comfort and for God to help the family through this difficult time. The man was talking aimlessly to no one in particular about old school friends and past events. We finished the prayer and I began to turn away to say something to the family. I felt a hand on my arm, and turned back to the man in the bed. He looked right at me and said plainly, “Buy the property and use it for what it is intended.” And then he returned to his semi-coma and random ramblings. I had chills all over me, felt short of breath, and don’t even remember what I said to the family. I hastily excused myself and ran to a phone to call Rick and tell him what had just happened. I knew then there was no turning back. We soon booked a flight for another trip to Uganda – this time to buy land and start planning an orphanage.
Over the next few hours there were a number of dance and song tributes to the bride and groom from various groups – the Mother’s Union, different parts of the family clans, a youth group. Then began the SERIOUS speeches. Many people got up to speak. One of the groom’s former high school teachers gave a glowing recount of his (Emmanuel’s) entire high school career including grades earned and awards won (this was the portion in English, there was at least an equal part in Rukiga). Various relatives of the bride’s spoke both on their own and in behalf of David and Constance who weren’t allowed to be there personally. Then the father of the groom got up. And stayed up. He welcomed each guest by name and with an explanation of who they were in relationship to the family. When he got at last to introducing the woman who had been the flower girl at his own wedding 30 years in the past, I thought surely he must be finished. But NO! There was more to go, both in English and Rukiga and by the end of this speech I was in that place where you are mentally listing the names of foods in the local grocery store by aisle just to keep from either going crazy or falling asleep. When I was aroused with a start from my trance by the sound of applause I thought, “OK, he had to have been the keynote speaker. The speeches must be finished.” But NO – it was now time for the bride and groom, matron of honor and best man, to arise and go to stand in the middle of the crowd near the table containing the cakes. To cut the cake? – I thought recklessly?! But NO – now it was time for the best man to recount each moment of his friendship with the wedding couple. And THEN, the groom’s turn to speak. By now I was swaying on my feet, tempted to grab hold of Patience to remain standing, but knowing it would be very bad manners. I thought – surely the groom won’t want to talk too long. And then I saw him pull a notepad from his pocket with two pages of notes written. Back to the grocery store aisles – “produce section – apples, pears, oranges, kiwis……” Finally, he closed the notepad, spoke for about five more minutes, and it was time to cut the cake. We proceeded to the cake table (slowly) to the strains of the Wedding March done in a very strange key and with a whistle being blown at various intervals. The cakes were absolutely beautiful and arranged nicely on the table. The bride and groom placed their hands on the knife, pressed down to make the traditional cut and – candles on the table similar to July 4th sparklers were ignited. If I hadn’t still been in a semi-trance from the speeches, I probably would have jumped a foot in the air to the great delight of all around, but I didn’t. Until the shaving cream began flying all over the place. That was a shock. People all around the table were spraying the wedding party with shaving cream. I had big globs all over my dress, arms and hair. It is evidently standard wedding reception behavior there because everyone else took it in stride and cheered and clapped. Maybe I should take a few cans of Silly String with me next time and start a whole new trend. The rest of the reception was much like the one the day before at the Give-Away. Patience and I took pieces of cake to the members of the groom’s family and knelt to present them. Then we got to sit down while the rest of the brides maids took cake to the rest of the people. Patience presented whole cakes to various people who were special in the wedding preparations, and one to me! That was a real surprise, and brought tears to my eyes. I certainly never expected that. By the time the cake was distributed and eaten & the gifts presented and appreciated, the sun was beginning to go down. Remember, the sun comes up at 07:00 and goes down at 19:00 – every day of the year. So, it was now almost 8 hours after the wedding officially began. It was finally time to go home and people began drifting away, back down the mountain to various cars and trucks where as many bodies as possible were squeezed in to transport everyone back to Kabale Town. There certainly seemed to be less vehicles here now than there were before, and no one here ever seems to feel responsible to provide rides home to the people they brought here. So there was a lot of knocking on car windows and pleas for “just one more person” to squeeze in. And, finally, we were back home with David and Constance and it was time to collapse.
We had mentioned to Fr. David that it might be nice to purchase a small home in the area to stay in when we were there for longer than a few weeks (after we retire), and also for anyone else from our church who may want to visit Kabale. Right across the road from Fr. David’s house, there is an almost completed home made of brick on a relatively small lot. The walls are built but there is no roof yet. We asked him about it, and were told it was the home of the professor whose funeral we had attended back in August, and that he had not finished it before he died. He said he would inquire of the widow if it was for sale and also check on lots for sale that we could maybe build on some day. As Rick and I had decided to pay the fees for Mary to go to school, we spent the next day seeing the school where she would be going, and buying her uniforms, sweater, shoes, book bag etc. That was so much fun! She was very happy and came over to model her uniform for us after we got home.
We pretty much rested the last two days there, and then began the marathon trip back to Kampala. Again, I amused myself by thinking of things I would rather do than make this trip – being locked in a room with a boom box blaring rap “music,” having nothing but buttermilk to eat or drink for the rest of my life, etc.
Finally on the way back to the U.S., we were on a layover in Washington, D.C. when we noticed an unusual number of white couples with black infants and small children. The children all seemed very comfortable with the adults and the adults called themselves mommy and daddy to the kids. So, of course, I had to ask one of them what was the scenario. I was told they were a group from Washington State who had all gone to Ethiopia to adopt AIDS orphans. I asked how long they had been there – how much time they had to bond with the children before bringing them home. Three days!!!! They had all arrived in Ethiopia on Wednesday, been given the children they had pre-arranged for, and were back on a plane home on Saturday. I couldn’t believe it. They all seemed like family already, the children and the adoptive parents. One woman told me a heart wrenching story. She and her husband have taken 18 month old triplets to raise. The Ethiopian father had died of AIDS, and the mother was very sick and ready to die soon also. The mother had signed over her triplets to this family and said goodbye to them forever because she knew she was dying and wanted a good life for them. The adoptive mom said it was one of the most emotional things she had ever been through – saying good-bye and seeing the mother part from her children. I continue to pray for all these husbands and wives who went to so much trouble to do what they could for these hurting people.
Once home, we began to get pictures and descriptions from Fr. David of various homes and lots for sale in the Kabale area. He was not going to let us forget that we had discussed having a home there some day. Soon, the homes in the pictures began to get larger and larger until he sent us the picture of a hostel in downtown Kabale that was for sale. Eleven rooms, kitchen, bathrooms, courtyard, enclosed compound – the works. For about $25,000.00. Well, we didn’t have that kind of money. I said to Rick – “for Heaven’s sake, some of these places he is sending us pictures of are big enough to start an orphanage.” There was a long moment of stunned silence as we looked at each other, looked away, looked back, the same thought dawning in both our minds at once, both of us trying to not give voice to it. And neither one of us did actually say anything out loud at that moment– but from that moment on, we knew we were destined to build an orphanage in Kabale. Somewhere in my mind I could see Fr. David dancing around, hands raised in the air, knowing his prayers had once again been answered. God had evidently told Fr. David what we would do before He told us. We had absolutely no idea how we would even begin to do this thing. And then, in the mail, came a completely unexpected windfall check. Now, for the last 20 years, Rick has yearned for a Harley Davidson motorcycle. So, when the check came, he bought one. A month later, he sold it and bought a less expensive motorcycle, putting the profit into the bank to start an orphanage. He then sold the nice almost new truck we had just bought a few months before and bought a cheaper one. That money went into the orphanage fund. A few weeks later I was visiting patients in the hospital. A man approached me and asked me to come pray for his brother who was dying of cancer. The dying man had already lapsed into a semi-coma. There were several family members in the room when I came in. I laid my hands on the man and prayed for him, for peace and comfort and for God to help the family through this difficult time. The man was talking aimlessly to no one in particular about old school friends and past events. We finished the prayer and I began to turn away to say something to the family. I felt a hand on my arm, and turned back to the man in the bed. He looked right at me and said plainly, “Buy the property and use it for what it is intended.” And then he returned to his semi-coma and random ramblings. I had chills all over me, felt short of breath, and don’t even remember what I said to the family. I hastily excused myself and ran to a phone to call Rick and tell him what had just happened. I knew then there was no turning back. We soon booked a flight for another trip to Uganda – this time to buy land and start planning an orphanage.
Labels: Uganda Chronicles
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