Warthogs and Reflections.

I head back to ORU on the 2nd of August. I am ridiculously excited. It will be an amazing (challenging) year. 

You guessed it. David will be once again talking about Uganda in this blog. You are probably like, "I'm happy for you, and its very nice you went on that trip but..."

Yeah I know. I was only there for a month. Technically some research done somewhere states that it takes months to get over the honeymoon phase when in another country. The 4 stages of culture shock. I definitely had moments when I wanted to be in America, eating cheeseburgers and not being referred to as a Mzungu (white person), but a month was all it took to change my life forever. So yes, this blog will be about Africa, and there is a good chance many more will come. 

On the last day of the trip we spent the day in Kampala (capitol) spending our money like worthless tourists on worthless tourism attractions, which was funny because we weren't tourists. Or, at least I like to think I wasn't. Anyway, prior to Brooke's fall off the concrete ledge which gave her a minor concussion (I swear I've never seen anyone with as bad luck as her...) [But that's ok because I don't believe in luck, but on this trip she certainly did have a series of unfortunate events], I bought a knife.

I bought a knife from Africa. Yes, it was cheaply made, and only sold to American tourists for jacked up prices so they can think they  are awesome because they have a knife from Africa. I bought it for 8,000 shillings. Depending on the ever changing current currency rate, not even $5.00. Did I feel stupid? Yes, but I love it. It sits on my desk in my room, sheathed in its cow hide. When no one is in the room, sometimes I take it out and jab the air with it like a nerd. I'm awesome. 

Just to clarify Brooke was one of my team members who faced many trials on this trip and I am extremely proud of her. Malaria, marriage proposals, dirty Lukayans, a 2 night stay in a Ugandan hospital, and minor concussions could not keep her down.  

During the middle of the trip we went on a safari. My team got a safari lodge to ourselves and we felt beautifully out of place. A shower, a bed, and walls that weren't made out of mud. I felt guilty for having these things but graciously accepted them. We even had a toilet. Before we got to the safari lodge we went on a quick boat tour of the lake, complete with elephants, buffalo, nile crocs, hippos and monitor lizards. On this 2 story boat we saw a sight we weren't used to seeing. White people. We yelled out MZUNGU! Just because it was hilarious. As we boarded the boat I hate to admit that I made a rash and harsh judgement on them before I even heard them speak. I was right though. Our team awkwardly boarded the boat filled with English, Germans, and a bird watching team from Colorado. I looked over to see the Ugandans to my right and I wanted to yell to them, "No, we are not like the rest of them! We just got back from living 2 1/2 weeks off and on in the jungle! We aren't rich European tourists!" I didn't though because I'm not a jerk and also because the rest of the boat would have heard me.

Almost immediately I felt the entire extraordinary experience of my ORU Missions experience was being tainted and invalidated because I was blending in with the rest of the tourist Mzungu. I hated it. Then I realized that I needed to get over myself. This trip was never about me and how "different" my experience in the country was from anyone else's. I was here for Jesus. I was here as a servant to help anyone I could. That thought was enough for me so I rested and enjoyed myself. 

I will take a moment now to inject some of my journal entries that I kept on the trip. 

Wednesday June 4, 2008- On the Road to Fort Portal

Yesterday and today we went to Queen Elizabeth National Park. We went on a boat drive. We saw lots of animals, I loved it but I love to people watch more than anything. I was in a boat with almost all Mzungu's. One team was from the U.S., they were a bird watching team. They were hilarious, they ignored all the great animals for the birds! The rest were Europeans, some Germans and some South Africans. [Right now we sitting in the shade beside a small restaurant waiting for food in a small town. We are about 2 hours away from Fort Portal]. I wanted to know all of their stories. We stayed in a house, the team had the house to ourselves. I loved the house. I would love to live in Africa if I had a house like that. Not real nice but not a hut either. Today we left at 6:30 am to go on a game drive. We saw hyenas, warthogs, herds of elephants and an injured lioness. At the end of the drive was a huge male elephant who came very close to the van. The guide said he likes to charge vehicles. I love the elephants, they look so sad and majestic. They look kind but I know that they are very dangerous.

While we were on our way here we stopped by the equator and there were about 20-25 baboons all around the street and in it. Pastor Israel was throwing bananas at them and one of the baboons screamed because it almost got run over. [I like turtles].

There you have it. A tiny quip of my journal in Africa. Not much and definitely not poetic, I didn't have a lot of writing time on my hands so I wrote in basic thought. When we were at this game park there was the great warthog just laying down outside the restaurant and I was so close to touching it. Its tusks were huge, but the animal only came up to my knees. I'm not saying its not tough, but I am saying that I was definitely calculating the worth and the risk of touching it (it wasn't moving) and it going berserk. I decided it was worth the risk and was so close to touching its rough hide. Alas, I hear "AYE!" and one of the game wardens waving his finger back and forth in the "that's a big no no" kind of way. Oh well. Maybe another day. I just won't get caught. :)