Village Visits

When we first arrived in Kabale, I would often ask a student or fellow lecturer, "So, where is your home?"  What I meant by the question was, "Where are you currently living?"  Almost invariably the person would gesture toward the distance and reply, "I stay in Kabale, but my home is...," and then would come the name and description of a district and village somewhere many kilometres away.  I quickly learned that the structures where people live here in Kabale -- whether it's a staff house, a hostel, a dorm, or a place in town -- is simply the place where they stay.  "Home" is where they are from, where their family is, where their land is, regardless of how long it has been since they last visited that place.

Here's a similar insight: Back in May our team joined Global Teams missionaries from all over East Africa for a retreat in Kenya.  The retreat was organized by GT's Missionary Caregivers, a group of women lovingly dedicated to pursuing our health and well-being.  The first few days of the retreat we

Kabungo Parish near Bunyonyi. Rev. Hannington's son, Golden,
is a student at BBUC

were with other North American missionaries serving in East Africa, and we spent time studying Scripture, listening to God and to each other. The second part of the retreat about 30 East and Central Africans joined us.  They are GT missionaries as well, with amazing stories of how they are reaching unreached people groups in their areas.  At one point during this part of the retreat, we had a session on cultural differences.  I asked the people in my group, "What does friendship mean in your culture?  How do you know whether someone is a good friend?"  One of the answers that received many nods and vocalizations of affirmation was, "A good friend is one who knows my family.  I mean, this is one who has traveled to my village and met my mother and my father and my sisters and my brothers and my relatives.  One who has been to my home."

So it's not a surprise that we've begun visiting people's homes.  On a Saturday or a Sunday, we pile into our white van and say a prayer.  Then we navigate our way down our hill to the main road, and drive to the local market.  We learned early on that bringing a gift is important to being a good guest, and bringing a branch loaded with matoke (green bananas) is one of the best gifts. Normally we then pick up a guide along the way, the host himself or a friend of the host, who directs us to the turnoff.  Then we bump (and, if it's raining, slide) across red dirt (or mud) roads in between, over, or around hills, past banana plantations and fields of sorgum or beans, through village markets, past countless pedestrians trudging to or from someplace we'll never know.  When we at last reach our destination (sometimes after 30 minutes of driving, sometimes after 6 or 7 hours of driving), we are always warmly welcomed by our host.

Typically, we all sit down for a cup of tea before anything else begins.  Even if a church service where I'm to preach has begun (we can hear the drums beating calling the people to worship), we

must sit down for tea.  First, a child of the host brings water warmed in a teapot and soap, and pours the water over our hands as we wash off the dirt of the road.  Then we enter the house, and sit (or squeeze) around around a table where the tea awaits.  Sometimes there is English tea (water and black tea), African tea (milk and chai), coffee (always a tin of instant Nescafe), sugar, milk, bananas, bread, honey, and g-nuts (peanuts).  Sometimes there is just African tea and a few pieces of bread.  Always there is graciousness and gratefulness, and time to pray and give and receive welcome.

Then the events of the day follow.  If it's a Sunday, all of us are brought to the front of the congregation to sit in full view of the people.  It is a long service of worshipping, singing, preaching (most often me through a translator), more singing, dancing (one of our favorite parts), and communion.  Another one of my favorite parts is the offering.  When the offering basket is brought to the front after being among the people, amid the coins and few bills you will often see a bag of eggs, a small collection of fruit, or other agricultural gifts from folks who did not have money to bring.  I have even seen a goat led to the front and tied to the chancel during the offertory!  Before the service is over, they will auction these gifts off to the congregants, and the money will go to the church, and the food item to the person who bought it.  Often that person will turn around and give what she has bought to the priest or to the visitors.

One other part I love is when I participate in giving communion to the people.  I get to see and touch
these dark, rough, holy hands of people who are so different from me, yet who are my brothers and sisters coming with faith to receive from the One who saves and unites us.  "The body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ keep and preserve you and you and you and you...unto eternal life."  Old, withered faces with bright eyes; young, strong faces mildly amused at this muzungu priest; tired, sad eyes that won't meet mine; friendly, hopeful faces ready to receive; unreadable faces that stare straight ahead.  The family we are just barely coming to know and love.

After the service comes lunch.  There must be lunch!  Don't even try to excuse yourself from it!  Squeeze in there and be ready to pile your plate high with matoke, "Irish" potatoes, sweet potatoes, goat, beef and/or chicken cooked in a wonderful broth, rice, greens, rolls, liver, intestines, and (once) rabbit.  After you have eaten it all (mostly in silence), be ready for the fruit dessert -- the freshest pineapple, banana, passion fruit and watermelon ever to pass your lips.  Then comes obushera -- this strong, mildly fermented drink that few white people can stomach, but that all Bakiga insist is wonderful and very good for digestion.  Then comes...yes, more tea.

Finally, full of food and welcome, we totter back to the van, often carrying a bag of beans or potatos or vegetables as a parting gift.  We clamber into the van, and begin the journey home.

These visits are both hard and wonderful.  Hard -- we're still learning cultural cues, struggling with
communication due to our lack of Rukiga (the local language) and our hosts' differing uses of English, adapting to new physical circumstances, and eating unusual food.  There is also the challenge of being a young family in these situations; naps are missed, children get tired, they get hungry (although we're impressed with what great eaters of Ugandan food they have become!), places that feel safe to our hosts sometimes seem dangerous to us; I get a lot of attention and am often involved with services or interacting with people while Leslie is left alone to care for the kids.

Wonderful -- the hospitality is unceasing.  Our hosts and their community consistently receive us with genuine excitement, unending hand-shakes, hugs, gifts, kind words, and food.  We learn more of Bakiga culture in a few hours in the village than days in our house on our hill above town.  We get to see a way of life that reveals both the beauty and challenge of the simpler, poorer life away from town.  The geographical beauty is often stunning.  We experience the humbling joy of being hosted by people who know how to love a lot with so very little.  And we become friends with the people we're learning to love, knowing them in their home.

(Here are a few more photos from our visit to Canon Jovahn's home, pictured above, Deputy Principal of BBUC.  By the way -- in case you don't know, you can click on any of the pictures in our blog and see a larger, clearer version.)

Caring and Careful Wisdom

As you read in my previous post, obviously I enjoyed the importance of tea in the meeting of the Scholarship Committee.  I was even more impressed by the caring and careful wisdom of the men and women on this committee.  We interviewed candidates from a number of backgrounds and current situations, all of them rather dire by western standards.  We had the expected criteria -- academic performance, experience, vision, spirituality, etc., plus a scoring system to aid in the decision making process.  Here is what impressed me:

Me with Canon Jovahn, Deputy Principal of BBUC
and Chair of the Scholarship Committee
(yes, having tea!)

• My colleagues did not hesitate to ask piercing and probing questions.  I squirmed more than once during the interviews (as did the candidates), but clarity came from such honest questions.
• The people mattered far more than the process, and "people" meant far more than the just the candidate we were interviewing.  The questions and discussion explored how awarding a scholarship to an individual would in fact affect their family and their community.
• My colleagues' dialogue was insightful, humble, and responsive.  They listen to each other.  The conversation is formal, polite, and often firm, but minds and hearts change submit and change as the discussion continues.
• They are always ready to stop, pray, and listen before making decisions.

I actually have learned more about Ugandan cultures, my colleagues, and my students in these meetings than in many other situations.  No surprise, of course, but working together reveals even more than observing and asking questions. I have also been grateful for how willing they are to listen to my thoughts and ideas, even though I'm an outsider and newcomer.

By the way, if any reading this blog would be interested in providing a scholarship for one or more students studying at BBUC, please contact me directly at hinesfamily@gmail.com.  The need is great, and I am now witness to (and participant in) the fact that the scholarships are faithfully and prayerfully given with consistent integrity.

Lecturers and Administrators of BBUC

To Tea or not to Tea...

...that was the question!  We were almost an hour into our Scholarship Committee meeting, and the g-nuts (peanuts), bananas, mugs, and thermoses of tea sat waiting on the table.

I have learned several important lessons about tea time in Uganda.  First, no one wants to miss tea.  (It took me half a term to realize the reason students are anxious for a timely end to my morning classes is so they won't miss morning tea.)  Second, one rarely conducts business over tea.  Third, skipping tea is not an option.

So what were we going to do?  It was time to interview the applicants, and in only 45 minutes the church service was to begin.  The politely formal yet earnest discussion began.

"We cannot have our tea while we interview the candidates.  We must take it now."

"But we should not keep them waiting.  Why not have the tea after the interviews?"

"It will be time for the service. Why not have it after the service as our lunch?"

"This we cannot do! Tea for lunch?!"

"Chairman, some of us may not have eaten breakfast in anticipation of this tea.  What of them?"

After about ten minutes of discussion, we settled on permitting the hungry to discreetly munch on g-nuts while we conducted the interviews, and having tea immediately after.

Fast-forward thirty minutes.  We can hear the music of the service beginning.  Two candidates remain, waiting to be interviewed, and the tea remains to be taken.  The earnest discussion begins again, not without a good measure of humor.

"Chairman, I would like to submit that we now take our tea, and interview the remaining candidates after the service."

"I second the proposal."

"But the service is beginning!  Do we have time?"

"If we hurry."

"Take tea in a hurry?!  How could this be?"

"Perhaps we could not take the tea."

"Would you have us not take tea?" 

(Quiet, shared incredulity.)

"Let us have tea."

The two waiting candidates were invited to join us for tea, while those with responsibilities quickly enjoyed their tea and slipped out.  The rest of us unhurriedly sipped our African tea (hot milk and chai) or English tea (hot water, milk, and black tea), ate our bananas and nuts, then entered the service to join in the singing and dancing.

 

(Next: While obviously I enjoyed the importance of tea in this meeting, I was even more impressed by the caring and careful wisdom of the men and women....)

Ugandan Martyrs

 On 3 June 1886, thirty-two young men, pages of the court of King Mwanga of Buganda, were burned to death at Namugongo for their refusal to renounce Christianity. In the following months many other Christians throughout the country died by spear or fire for their faith.

 These martyrdoms totally changed the dynamic of Christian growth in Uganda. Introduced by a handful of Anglican and Roman missionaries after 1877, the Christian faith had been preached only to the immediate members of the court, by order of King Mutesa. His successor, Mwanga, became increasingly angry as he realized that the first converts put loyalty to Christ above the traditional loyalty to the king. Martyrdoms began in 1885. Mwanga first forbade anyone to go near a Christian mission on pain of death, but finding himself unable to cool the ardor of the converts, resolved to wipe out Christianity. 


The Namugongo martyrdoms produced a result entirely opposite to Mwanga’s intentions. The example of these martyrs, who walked to their deaths singing hymns and praying for their enemies, so inspired many of the bystanders that they began to seek instruction from the remaining Christians. Within a few years the original handful of converts had multiplied many times and spread far beyond the court. The martyrs had left the indelible impression that Christianity was truly African, not simply a white man’s religion. Most of the missionary work was carried out by Africans rather than by white missionaries, and Christianity spread steadily. 

Renewed persecution of Christians in the 1970’s by the military dictatorship of Idi Amin proved the vitality of the example of the Namugongo martyrs. Among the thousands of new martyrs, both Anglican and Roman, was Janani Luwum, Archbishop of the (Anglican) Church of Uganda.  


PRAYER
O God, by whose providence the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church: Grant that we who remember before thee the blessed martyrs of Uganda, may, like them, be steadfast in our faith in Jesus Christ, to whom they gave obedience even unto death, and by their sacrifice brought forth a plentiful harvest; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. 

(I found this helpful summary at The Hanscom Family Weblog.)