Children, Children Everywhere

Thank you so much for your prayers! We are doing well here. Learning how to be the parents of infants. Beginning to get a little bit more sleep. It is still pretty crazy in our house, but hey, life would be boring without a little chaos. We are now down to 7 children staying with us, and a few of them are nearly healthy enough to go home now as well.

An update on Shaquille: Through a contact at a local orphanage, Renee has found a hospital in Entebbe, Uganda, that does cleft palate surgeries! It is a good hospital (sometimes hard to find here), and the surgery is performed frequently there. Hopefully in the next few weeks, Shaquille will be taken in for a consultation. The surgery should follow not too long after. Meanwhile, Shaquille seems to be settling into life here. Our nightguard’s young daughters love to hold him, he has been drinking massive amounts of F75 and nutrient-enriched milk, and he only woke me up every 2 ½ hours last night to eat.

I now have only 8 days left here in Uganda. I feel somewhat like I will be giving up custody of my children at the end of that time. My favorite moments here mostly involve sitting on the floor of our house, playing with the children who are staying with us and watching them become healthy and happy. Two year old Faith was emaciated and silent when I arrived 2 months ago. A month before that, she was so sick that she was near death. Now, beautiful little Faith is a chubby toddler who just spent 15 minutes singing and racing around in circles with a washcloth on her head, just because she knew it would make us laugh.

Ashfat, age 4, arrived here a few weeks ago with limbs swollen from malnutrition. Since then, we have been through many sleepless nights of feeding him F75 and trying desperately to keep his fever down. He has had a blood transfusion and several days in the hospital receiving treatment for severe malaria. We have cleaned up what feels like infinite amounts of vomit and diarrhea from him. Yet, watching him climb the stairs by himself today made it all worth it. He has begun to sing “Pharaoh, Pharaoh” enthusiastically when he thinks we’re not listening. And his adorable smile never fails to remind me that God is present, God is in control, and God is infinitely good.

When we step outside our gate, children come running, yelling “Auntie Elly! Auntie Renee! Auntie Eileenie!” (‘Eileenie’ is their version of Heidi—not sure why that’s easier to say…) They flock to us and hold tightly to our hands/arms/backs as we attempt to walk through the village. I love learning their names and faces, and I especially love taking slow walks through Masese, pausing to play and sing with them. I have come to the conclusion that a “language barrier” is only such if you acknowledge its presence. It is astonishing what one can communicate with a smile, a high five, and a silly song.

When I get back to the United States, I am definitely going to need to find some children to play with…

Sorry it’s been awhile since my last post. This week has been the craziest since I’ve been here. We have 10 sick children currently staying at our house. Three of them are severely malnourished, so we have been feeding them every three hours. In other words, we’ve pretty much stopped sleeping. We have also had to have two of the children admitted to the hospital. Ashfat and Shakool (ages 4 and 2, respectively) are both HIV positive, have severe malaria, and are extremely malnourished. After spending the night at the hospital receiving treatment for their malaria, they seem to be feeling a little better.

One of the other children we have been feeding every 3 hours is named Shaquille. Shaquille is 11 months old, although he looks more like a skinny 6 month old. He has a cleft palate; the roof of his mouth did not completely grow together during development. In other words, there is no barrier between his mouth and nasal passage. Therefore, he can only drink milk and water. He is not able to eat any solid foods. Consequently, he is very malnourished, and his body is far behind normal development. We have been feeding him a special formula called F75. F75 is essentially a mixture of milk, oil, sugar, and vitamins. And there are 750 calories in every 8 ounces.

Shaquille is a completely precious child. He has an adorable smile, laughs often, and rarely cries unless he is hungry. I am hopelessly attached to this little boy. We are trying to find a way to get him cleft palate surgery. Without the surgery, he will die. A one year old’s body simply needs more nourishment than Shaquille is physically able to swallow. Please pray that we are able to find him a place to have surgery soon. This delightful child needs to be given the chance to live.

It is hard to believe that I have only 2 weeks left in Africa! I have loved my time here. But, hey, it’s not over yet! There are still more songs to sing, children to play with, sick kids to take to clinics, adults to meet, and things to see and experience. I pray that God will use me as his hands and feet here in Uganda right up until the moment I set foot on the plane and beyond.

A Different Kind of Exciting

Sometimes, doing mission work just isn’t that glamorous. I feel like I spent the majority of my day today taking kids to the bathroom. Oh, and cleaning up the floor when they didn’t make it. This morning, we took two kids to the clinic. I took one of them to the toilet four times in the 2 ½ hours that we were there. Of course, I use the term ‘toilet’ loosely. It was actually a squatty, essentially a hole in the bathroom floor. Let me tell you, holding a two year old over a squatty is a pretty awesome adventure.

A couple weeks ago, we had several other Americans come to help us with the feeding program. We seized the opportunity of having extra help to give de-wormer to all of the kids. There are so many parasites and viruses in the water here that it is really helpful to take a chewable tablet to kill off all the bad stuff in your stomach every 3 to 6 months. It is a good preventative health measure. To give out the de-wormer, I tore open each package and handed the tablet to Heidi, another SHC volunteer, who gave it to the next child in the food line and made sure that he or she chewed and swallowed it. We had to move quickly—900 is a huge number of kids. As I quickly opened each package, I tossed the trash into a bag held by Randy, one of our extra volunteers. At one point, I apologized to him for his less-than-exciting job. He laughed, said that he was glad to help, and commented, “Documentaries never show the guy holding the trash bag.”

He was right. So often, people seem to think that doing missions in Africa must be constantly thrilling. I do love it, I have had lots of wonderful adventures, I have played with hundreds of sweet, adorable children, and I would recommend that anyone try this out. However, I don’t usually feel like I live on the edge here. Like I said, mission work isn’t always very glamorous. It’s amazing, but not in the ways one might expect. Often, the little things are what make being here so wonderful.

Today, Brenda and some other young girls came over for me to teach them some “new songs for praising” at their request. I taught them several of my favorite Christian songs for kids. We talked about what they meant, we laughed at the silly motions, and I had the time of my life! This morning at the clinic, I sat for a few hours coloring, singing, and making faces with the children while we waited to see the doctor. Another child whom we had never met came over to join in, and I taught her some clapping games. Tonight, Heidi and I went down to the village market to get food for supper, and I carried a tiny two year old on my back in a Ugandan baby carrier, basically a large piece of material. I loved having Atasha on my back, and a couple of my favorite village children ran to join us as we walked. It is these little adventures that make me love being here so very much. It is such an incredible blessing to have the opportunity to shower God’s love on these children in so many little ways.

And receiving their love in return in delightful and moving. Sumya, a precious 7 year old girl, kissed my hand yesterday. Two year old Faith breaks into a huge grin and gives me a hug every time I walk into the room. Sanya makes a goofy face when she sees me, and we chase each other around in circles. Twelve year old Brenda asks to do my hair nearly every time I see her. Alima will sit in my lap with her arms around my waist for an hour at a time. These children are beautiful, crazy, sweet, fun, and hilarious, and I love them.

God is so, so good.

The Power of a Smile

Today I placed 900 bananas on 900 children’s plates. Doing anything 900 times can result in feelings of monotony. It is when I feel myself settling into a groove that I begin to feel God tugging at my heart. Look at them. I look up from the pile of bananas to a little girl’s face and smile. Her flat expression becomes a grin. My gaze moves to the boy behind her. He starts to laugh. These children need food, but more than that, they need love.

Today, I tried to focus on really seeing the children and showering God’s love on as many as possible. There is a difference between ‘looking at’ and ‘seeing’ someone. Sometimes, I catch myself looking at the hundreds of children who come past without actually seeing them. Perhaps I am dehydrated, exhausted, or just allowing my mind wander. When I pull myself back to the present and look into the eyes of these beautiful children, incredible things begin to happen. Angry faces soften. Confused looks become smiles. Worried expressions turn to those of joy. Children giggle. They stop pushing each other in line. They come back to see me after they get their food. They sit with me. They hug me. The next day, they come back again. It is astonishing how 15 seconds of eye contact can make a child realize that they matter to someone.

Jesus had a talent for noticing people whom others would pass over. Take Zacchaeus. And the hemorrhaging woman who touched Jesus’ cloak. And the woman at the well. Jesus’ first disciples were fishermen- not exactly people whom others were clamoring to meet.

So here is my challenge to you today: notice someone. Make eye contact when it is not required. Show someone that you care about their existence. Smile. You never know what God will do.

Singing in Uganda

Children have started singing “Pharaoh, Pharaoh” when we pass by. That is their favorite English song from the Bible club we have at our house every day. They request it constantly and sing it loudly and enthusiastically.

I have also started to learn songs in the Luganda language. Perhaps the person most influential in my education has been Brenda (Dennis’s older sister, for those of who have read earlier blogs). Three college-age English speakers doing a Bible club in Uganda require the use of a translator. For the first few days, we were able to find helpful adults from the village. One day, however, we could find no one. We prayed that God would provide, and He sent us Brenda. Though only 12 years old, Brenda is extremely mature for her age. She has an eagerness to learn and serve others. When translating for us, it is clear that she takes great care in communicating accurately and effectively with the other children.

One day a couple weeks ago, Brenda taught me a clapping game during which you freeze until you burst into laughter. It turns out that nearly every child in the village knows the game; I have been able to use it to connect with many more children than I had dreamt possible. It is a powerful thing to learn someone else’s music. Not only is it a highly effective way to break the language barrier, but it also builds a sense of trust and community. (Can you tell I was a music therapy major?) I love watching children’s faces light up when I begin to sing a song that they know!
Before I left the States, I purchased a microphone for my iPod. Here, I have recorded many children singing. I have then been able to listen to each song repeatedly, giving me ample time to learn it and write it down phonetically. Brenda has come to our house several times to sing for me and teach me musical games. I have also recorded many other children spontaneously as they pass through our house. The children love to hear the recordings played back for them. They listen with wide eyes, giggling, singing, and dancing along.

Perhaps my favorite song that I have learned so far is a musical circle game. We insert each child’s name into the song. When we say a child’s name, he or she dances and then sits down. (They tend to find the Americans’ dancing to be highly amusing…) Once everyone is sitting down, we sing shorter verses for each child to stand up. Then, we sing while racing in a circle, holding hands and laughing hysterically.

“Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord!” – Ephesians 5:19b

For those of you who have been craving pictures, I am sorry to say that my repeated attempts to upload them to my blog have thus far proved unsuccessful. However, several pictures I have taken are on the blogs of Renee (grounds director of Serving His Children) and Heidi (a fellow volunteer). Renee’s blog address is servinghischildreninuganda.blogspot.com and Heidi’s is pressingintojesus.blogspot.com.

Feeding His Children

Twice a week, Serving His Children (SHC) feeds well-balanced meals to approximately one thousand children in Masese, Uganda. This is not an easy task. However, it is an important and a rewarding one.

Each weekend, we buy 200 pounds of beans and the same of rice. We cart them back to our house on the back of pikis (motorcycles). Then, the beans and rice must be sorted. Twigs, rocks, and bad beans are removed by the two women from Masese whom SHC employs as cooks. The sorting takes several hours.

The day of the feeding, we wake up at 4:30 am to carry several heavy armloads of firewood across the village. Our cooks meet us there and start the fires for cooking. We volunteers then stumble back to bed, the Islamic call to prayer echoing through the night. I am growing to appreciate these early morning adventures. There is something incredibly peaceful about being up before the rest of the world. The village is almost completely dark, although we can see lights dotting the distant shores of Lake Victoria. The cattle and goats are sound asleep. There are no cries of “Mzungu! How are you?!” following us everywhere we go (Mzungu is Luganda for ‘white’).

When we wake up again, we travel to the market in Jinja to buy 1,000 pieces of fruit. We give each child a banana, mango, passionfruit, or tangerine, depending on the day. Riding back to the village on a piki with a tub of 500 pieces of fruit is always an exciting adventure.

Then, it is time to feed the kids! Children begin lining up under the hot sun over an hour before we start. It is astonishing how many children can fit in a 3 foot portion of these lines. They crowd together so that I can scarcely understand how they are able to breathe. Still, the line extends far across the open area where we serve the food.

The children’s clothes are always dirty. The idea of throwing away a skirt because of one hole (or ten) is laughable. Many children appear to be wearing dress-up clothes, as they wear whatever they can find or are given. Shoes, mostly cheap plastic or rubber sandals, are worn until long past when they are falling off a child’s feet.

I love these children with all of my heart. They smile broadly and call my name when I pass, they run over to hold my hand or give me a hug, and they are always eager to play the Ugandan statue clapping game they taught me.

For two hours, children come through the line to receive their beans, rice, and fruit. They bring their own cups , bowls, or plastic bags to hold the food. After my little friend Esther eats, she sits by my side as I help to serve the other children.

By the end of the two hours, we are all exhausted, dehydrated, sunburned, and happy. God is so good.

Anecdotes from Africa

I truly adore the children of Uganda! The place I see God most here is in each smile of these precious little children of His. Since I cannot hope to write here about everything I have done in the last week, I have decided to limit this particular blog entry to a few stories about adorable kids.

My first week here, Esther, Judith, and Winith stayed at our house. Esther, age four, is big sister to twins Judith and Winith, who both had malaria and upper respiratory infections. The twins were here to receive medicine, and Esther was here because the twins needed her to be a stand-in mom. One of the blessings I have been able to give was to allow Esther to be a kid. She spent much time taking good care of sisters—kids here can be extremely responsible—but, when she played with me, she got to take a much-needed break and act like a child again. We became very close. She cannot speak a word of English, and I only know a few words of Lugandan, but that doesn’t seem to matter to our Awesome God. Esther and her sisters are back at home now, but I still see them frequently.

Serving His Children (SHC) feeds 900 to 1,000 children twice a week here in Masese, Uganda. Both times this week, after Esther came through the line and ate, she came to me and clung to my skirt (grinning widely) while I helped to feed the other children. Yesterday, I went to visit Esther at her house. There, I played with about 10 children, sang songs, did dances, played games, and had a simply fabulous time!

I have done a lot of singing with children here. Songs with motions and silly sounds are great because the kids can follow along even though they don’t understand the words. Four year old Rachel thinks that “Three Purple Peacocks” is about the funniest thing she has ever heard. She runs around holding up three fingers, chanting “Three purkle peekahs,” and bursting into fits of giggles.

SHC also provides medical care to the community. The other day, I went along to take three babies and a seven year-old to a medical clinic. I sat with the seven year-old, Dennis, in the waiting area for about 5 minutes before we both started to get bored. I spent the next hour and a half acting completely ridiculous in order to keep him entertained. (I may have actually had even more fun than he did…) We sang a bunch of songs, did the chicken dance, jumped like a frog, hopped on one foot along a crack in the floor, and gauged how far we could jump by moving a piece of trash farther across the floor. It was amazing to watch him go from being nervous, shy and uncomfortable to having the time of his life. The next week, Dennis came to playtime at our house (we have about 50 kids from the neighborhood play here and do a Bible club three times a week). When he saw me, Dennis yelled “Auntie Elly!”—the only words of English that he knows. He ran over to me, and started doing the chicken dance. Then, he placed two pieces of trash on the floor and jumped over them. He recreated our entire evening together over the next few minutes. The smile has yet to fade from my face…

God is good.