Pulling into Soroti Friday night, Steve, Tanya and I were grateful for a smooth journey to Kampala and also thankful for the team-mates who helped us out along the way. Coming home to a hot pot of chili with home-made bread and peanut brittle was an added blessing! I thank God that Steve is now okay and that our time away was productive. I was able to purchase an oven and a water container to hold my purified water!!
Saturday afternoon I met up with a neighbour who sells second hand clothes. She stopped me on the road to ask me what kind of treatment she should use for cracked heals and before I knew it, we were talking about small business loans and being a single mom. This lady buys a burlap sack full of second hand clothes and sells them from under a shady tree just down the road from my place. She is never quite sure what is in the sack - sometimes the clothes are good or desirable in Soroti, and sometimes it takes her a long time to sell 100 pieces of clothing. The bag she has now she has really been struggling with.
There had been a pile of clothes in my closet that I knew I had to get rid of - some were clothes that I rarely wore, and others were given to me by mzungus who came to visit us and just left there clothes behind. I decided to pack up all of these clothes and bring them over to my neighbour's "shop".
Two ladies asked me to sit down and join them on their burlap sacks - which are cut open and spread out to hold the clothes on top - like a blanket spread out for a picnic. I ended up spending over two hours under the shade of a tree, learning more about business, but then also the role of women, the power of prayer, curses and witchcraft, and the true definition of love. I was so glad that God gave me the chance to talk with and encourage these hard-working women. They try so hard with the little they have.
In the evening I went to a prayer meeting and came home to find things were very somber in the compound. Some thieves had stolen a bicycle from our yard and my landlady was really upset. The little boys were quiet with frustration - they understood the loss. It was a good bike - a gift to one of the elementary school girls for passing her exams. As we sat together taking tea and pondering the security of the yard we then heard the neighbours begin to fight. A man came home drunk and had found the women in the house praying. One thing about Ugandans is that they often say their prayers out loud... well, the man started yelling at the women that prayers are meaning less. Then the grandmother started calling down curses on the son... prayers turned to screams and crying... insults were thrown in every direction... and all I could do was sit on the other side of the cement wall and listen. It was so sad.
I went to bed emotional. God what can I do, through you, to make a difference in this country?
Saturday afternoon I met up with a neighbour who sells second hand clothes. She stopped me on the road to ask me what kind of treatment she should use for cracked heals and before I knew it, we were talking about small business loans and being a single mom. This lady buys a burlap sack full of second hand clothes and sells them from under a shady tree just down the road from my place. She is never quite sure what is in the sack - sometimes the clothes are good or desirable in Soroti, and sometimes it takes her a long time to sell 100 pieces of clothing. The bag she has now she has really been struggling with.
There had been a pile of clothes in my closet that I knew I had to get rid of - some were clothes that I rarely wore, and others were given to me by mzungus who came to visit us and just left there clothes behind. I decided to pack up all of these clothes and bring them over to my neighbour's "shop".
Two ladies asked me to sit down and join them on their burlap sacks - which are cut open and spread out to hold the clothes on top - like a blanket spread out for a picnic. I ended up spending over two hours under the shade of a tree, learning more about business, but then also the role of women, the power of prayer, curses and witchcraft, and the true definition of love. I was so glad that God gave me the chance to talk with and encourage these hard-working women. They try so hard with the little they have.
In the evening I went to a prayer meeting and came home to find things were very somber in the compound. Some thieves had stolen a bicycle from our yard and my landlady was really upset. The little boys were quiet with frustration - they understood the loss. It was a good bike - a gift to one of the elementary school girls for passing her exams. As we sat together taking tea and pondering the security of the yard we then heard the neighbours begin to fight. A man came home drunk and had found the women in the house praying. One thing about Ugandans is that they often say their prayers out loud... well, the man started yelling at the women that prayers are meaning less. Then the grandmother started calling down curses on the son... prayers turned to screams and crying... insults were thrown in every direction... and all I could do was sit on the other side of the cement wall and listen. It was so sad.
I went to bed emotional. God what can I do, through you, to make a difference in this country?
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