Sabbatical Day 18 (11 August)

Last day in Uganda! Sunny and bright. A church service is already going on by 7 and is louder than the Muslim calls to prayer. Out early before breakfast to see if the Internet Café is open to post yesterday’s blog. It’s not, nor is the one just up from the road so back to the hotel for breakfast. Something new: a fried banana, but not like we would do it. A very thin batter. Nice. Up the road again to see if I can get online. Internet Café still closed, but the one up the road from it is open. Yea! Turns out it is brighter (the other one was very dark) and cheaper. 1,500/- per hour rather than 2000/- (2000/- is 50p so it’s not exactly exorbitant.) Got the blog up to date and checked emails.

Took this photograph which shows a building with a sign that says ‘This property is not for sale’. I asked Davidson about it noting that we only put signs up when a house IS for sale. It seems that some people ‘sell’ property they don’t own to unsuspecting buyers, who then try to take the property over and find there is another real owner. The real owner then gets a lot of grief and has the hassle of proving they really do own the property. So when these signs are on the building and prospective buyer knows it must be a scam.

Back to hotel by 9.40 to wait for Davidson who was coming to pick me up at 10.50. He arrived early, 10.20. We checked out but then had to wait because the car that had ferried us about wouldn’t start (I’d been doubtful – it’s a diesel and had been belching smoke.)

The car turned up at 11.15 and we went to Davidson’s church. Song and prayer was in full swing and I joined in.

 I had been told by Precious that the children were copying my dance moves last week so I watched today and they were. Scary thought: if these children remember my moves maybe it will spread through Uganda, and then Africa, and then the world, ‘Dad dancing’ will become fashionable and for the first time in my life I will be cool. Yeah, you’re right, I’m becoming delusional! The older children did a piece again (although the CD kept cutting out). The younger ones didn’t perform so maybe the problem of last week still isn’t fixed.

The plan was to get away by 1.30 but it was nearing 12 by the time I began to speak (on John 6, the feeding of the 5,000 and the rest of the chapter). Davidson had asked me to speak for 1½ hours including translation but I realised that wasn’t on, so just used the first third of what I’d written and spoke for a little over 20 minutes. After Davidson summarised a few points from what I’d said I was then asked to Dedicate a 2 week old baby boy. (I’d been told in advance that this would happen). I’m not keen on the word Dedicate as there is no warrant in Scripture for Dedicating a child outside the Jewish Law, I much prefer Thanksgiving as we are told to thank God for everything, and since children are a gift from the Lord it’s good to give thanks for a child. But I wasn’t going to get into the nuances of the words, so I took the baby, (Victor is his name) and prayed for him, thanking God for him and asking for God’s blessing and protection in his own life and in his family and that he might come to know Jesus Christ as his Lord and Saviour. It was notable that only the mother was present. I assume his father is not a Christian.

 

It was time to leave Nansana. Although I had only been there a week it seemed much longer (in a good way). The most difficult part was this. Davidson announced that included in the offering there would be an opportunity for people to give towards a gift for me. I wanted to shout NO!!! but knew that would be a terrible thing. The sermon had included reference to the boy giving his lunch and that Jesus had used a small thing to do something great. I had made the point that their resources might be small but god could do great things with them. So when Davidson had finished I asked that if people wanted to give they give the smallest coin they had. In practice this would be a 100 or 200/- coin, equal to 2½ or 5p. The offering came to 12,000/- (and included several notes which are 1,000/- and above). That’s £4 which for some of these folk is major sacrifice. £4 never seemed to much in my eyes before.

Some members of the congregation had given me £200 to spend in whatever way I felt best on my Sabbatical. I couldn’t think of a better way than giving half to Precious, Davidson’s wife, with the strict command that it had to be used on the family, not the church (I did this privately, not in front of everyone).

By 1.35 we were on the road to the airport (I’d been worried there would be a lot of time taken with various things and we might get away very late.) 1.35 is good!

Davidson wanted to stop on the way to buy something for me with the gift. We pulled over and I saw him go into a roadside stall where they were selling drums! I had this awful thought that he was going to buy me a drum to take home so I ran into the shop after him. He WAS going to buy me a drum. I pointed out that I didn’t have any room in the case even for a little one (on reflection even a tiny one was probably a no-no as they are made of local materials including leather and that’s probably not allowed in NI). I managed to dissuade him and said it would have to be something flat. I suggested a CD of Ugandan worship songs. On the way to the airport I could see him anxiously looking at shops to see if there was anything suitable, but no, until just about the last set of shops before the airport. We decided on a small bowl with a zebra design s I could fit it in the case.

I have to retract what I said about people not getting angry when driving. There were two incidents on the way to the airport. One driver blew the horn at us hard as he felt we were driving too slow (it was cautious Joseph again) and a motorcyclist coming towards us on the other side of the road gave us the finger when we had to go onto his side of the road to avoid an enormous pothole.

We’ve been stopped a few times by traffic police on our longer journeys. They ask for your permit (driving licence) and they look at the insurance certificate on the windscreen. One of them pointed out the large cracks in the windscreen, but didn’t take it any further. They respond well to talk about faith. The drive might say ‘Jesus loves you’ and the police officer if a Christian will respond suitably and if not will say something like I don’t go to church but I’m thinking I might. One asked me if Jesus loved him and I was glad to tell him that he did.

Arrived at the airport in good time (check-in was late opening) and had to say goodbye to Davidson and his young daughter Praise at the door of the departure area. This was a bit anti-climactic as we just arrived at the security point and that was it, a handshake and a hug and our time together over.

It’s been an amazing week and I’m so grateful to Davidson for the invite to come and the care he took of me while in Uganda. I would never have come and experienced what I did without that invite. I gave Davidson the other half of the £200 I had been given and told him to use it for the work of his church. I had a few thousand Ugandan Shillings left which weren’t worth changing back, so keeping enough to buy a meal, I gave him the rest for the church also.

It was a bit surreal in the Departure Lounge after so long without TV. I had chicken pie and chips with tomato ketchup (cast all thought of what you imagine chicken pie is like from your mind) and watched the start of the Man U Wigan match. After 7 minutes I’d seen enough!

I spotted some postcards in one of the shops so enquired if there were stamps to post the ones I had (I’d bought 3 and asked Davidson to post one, because I remembered the address. Didn’t remember the other addresses and was intending to post them in Kenya but had managed to get online in the airport and so had the addresses. (Are you keeping up with me). Anyway the man in the shop asked for 10,000/- for the stamps and I said No Way. I didn’t have that much left anyway! He then went over to another man and asked for the rate for UK which turned out to be 1,900/- more like it. There were 900/- and 500/- stamps and he wanted to put two 900/- stamps on each card. I pointed out that 2 500 and 1 900/- would make the right amount. But he wouldn’t listen. He seemed to think that 2 x900 = 1,900. I didn’t know what his game was, and after the starting price of 10,000 I was suspicions so I lifted the cards and said I would post them in Kenya. I had just gone a few yards when he appeared with my hat which I had forgotten in my annoyance. Talk about feeling wick! So, if you are one of the lucky recipients of a postcard with a map of Uganda on one side and stamps from Kenya on the other, you now know the story behind that.

Short and pleasant flight in a small jet from Entebbe to Nairobi, Kenya – 1 hour 10 minutes. The Arrivals Hall was burned down in Nairobi last week but they have put up a tented village and it worked very well. You pick up your luggage on the tarmac, then through immigration, onto the most luxurious bus I have ever been on to a tented arrivals terminal which has all the usual including bureau de change. I was met as arranged by Gabriel the Taxi drive (who can talk) who took me to Thomas and Naomi Leremore’s home where I had tea and the opportunity to post this blog. The have a very sophisticated traffic light system in Nairobi where it counts you down to how long it will take the red lights to turn green – and it’s ignored by everyone, including the traffic police.  

Tomorrow we leave at 6.30 for the Nyahururu and points north.

Jim