A few photographs

Washing machine.

Tim's baby Emmanuel. 

Tim and Ema.

Martin and I at the motocross/rally car race.

My brothers Tim and Martin at the races.

A journal entry

I haven't done this before, but I am just going to copy down a journal entry of mine from last night. Keep in mind that I, and my writing, is a work in progress. Also, keep in mind that the "you" in this is me. I wrote this attacking my own way of life and world view. I post this with the intention that I will be held accountable to my words. Thanks.

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Monday Feb 16

Today I realized how much my perception of reality is a lie I tell to comfort myself. I am refusing to learn what the culture of poverty means so that I don't have to radically change. Observe, copy, understand [this is the process given to us during orientation for cross cultural interaction. It basically means that first you have to observe a culture, then copy what you see being done, and then gradually you will come to understand why it is the way it is. I've come to see its usefulness in a lot of different spheres, or just to see different things as "cultures"]. Am I really willing to understand the pains of this world? I have to share in the sufferings of Christ. I will never understand them until then. Today I learned that a dear friend's dad has cancer, I thought a lot about a story a friend here told me about his Rwandan friend who lost his entire family in the 1994 genocide, and I read an account of a lost boy of the Dinka of southern Sudan. All this pain confronting me doesn't just make me hurt, but challenges the very core of the way I see the world. It's so surprising to me every time I hear about another everyday, commonplace thing in my life with is a distant dream of the average Ugandan, indeed the average human being. And it's so surprising to me to find out what is commonplace and everyday in its stead. Injustice. Starvation. War. Disease. But it is always surprising. Just like someone who comes to a different culture and deep down continues to expect the people to act as they're used to, I cannot understand poverty. Every day it is surprising. I came to Uganda with a large amount of arrogance about my understanding of poverty. "I've seen it before. I've come to terms with it. I've learned to deal with it." Lies. True love doesn't let you "deal with it." True understanding of poverty is not something you can "come to terms with." It's something that makes you want to cry, want it all to end, every day. Otherwise you are lying to yourself. Sure, your head can understand it all just fine, even understand it well, in that sense. But your heart is another story, isn't it? Truth be told, I'm a bit disgusted with myself right now, and how little I understand, how little I love, and how great I think my understanding and love are. Jesus understands injustice, that's for sure. What's more unjust that a sinless man being crucified? Blessed are the poor, blessed are those who mourn, the hungry, the hated, the persecuted. Woe to the rich, the well fed, those who laugh now, those who are spoken well of. It all makes sense. How could the rich ever understand the story of the God of all becoming man and suffering the greatest injustice of all time? I wonder why I don't care about the poor! I don't understand the gospel because if I did I would follow it.

---

After I turned out the lights (what a blessing is electricity by the way!), I tossed and turned in bed for a long time. I realized that my luxury is more important to me than others' survival. I began to think that maybe if I understood poverty (which can basically be swapped for human existence for the vast majority of the world) I would live much, much differently. I wanted to throw the computer I'm writing on out the window. Then I thought, well, I must not really understand the gospel that much either. Luke 6:24-26 all made sense. Woe to the rich, because, perhaps, their entire existence is a lie.

This may be offensive to some. It's offensive to me. I want to run from it, but at the same time I know that the only hope that exists comes from running towards it. If we just go ahead and follow Jesus' words that right now don't make any sense to us, (all of Mt 5-7, especially don't store up for yourselves treasures on earth), maybe we'll understand it some day. Maybe if we live the way Jesus tells us to we'll one day realize that he was right! 

I, and my broken thoughts, are all a work in progress. Forgive me.

Love,

Charles

Afri-facts

Here are some brief facts that you may or may not have known about Uganda and Africa in general:

• In Uganda, it's very rude to eat while walking. There are probably a million examples of things like this that you would never think of. Politeness is definitely culturally defined.
• Child sacrifice occurs on average once a week in Uganda as part of traditional religious ceremonies, and is especially prevalent in Mukono, the district I am in. I think five occurred over Christmas time.
• 80% of Uganda is subsistence farmers
• It's not that Africans don't have the concept of the individual, but the default is to think of the community/family/tribe/clan first.
• African worldview asks "why?" which leads to understanding which leads to fitting in. The west asks "how?" which leads to understanding which leads to control.
• Canada and Uganda have roughly equivalent populations, but in Canada 8 mothers die in childbirth per year, whereas 6,000-7,000 mothers die in Uganda per year.
• My host brother actually says, "this is Africa" a lot sort of to punctuate conversations about common problems, like poor education, children dying of malaria, or government corruption or something. It's not just from Blood Diamond.
• Uganda has over 40 people groups, each with its own language and culture. The most numerous is the Baganda of the Buganda Kingdom (about 18%, I think, of the population). The Baganda speak Luganda.
• In Luganda, there is no word for "hello." The greeting instead means "how are you?" which is pretty indicative of the culture I think (emphasis on relationships over schedules or tasks). It also explains why so often when you say "hello" in English to people on the street they say "fine" in response.
• "Americans have watches. Africans have time." -The Rev. Dr. Samuel Opol, my professor for my class on African Traditional Religions.
  
• Uganda gained independence from Great Britain in 1962. The national anthem was written in the same year, and the composer is still trying to get his money from it. This is Africa.
• Because of English influence, cars drive on the left side of the road, soccer is football, a field is a pitch, the trunk is the boot, and so on. 
• There is a bird here that makes the exact same noise as the game Catch Phrase. We call it the Catch Phrase bird.
• In traditional African worldview and religion (which has a large influence on current African worldview, even of Christians or Muslims), dead people aren't really seen as dead in the same way as in the west. People still talk to their dead ancestors the same way they would have if they were alive. It can't really be called "spirit worship" in that sense, more ancestor veneration.
• The English Premier League is the league of choice. Most people are fans of either Man U, Arsenal, or Liverpool. My brothers are both Arsenal supporters.
• Apparently, 4% of Uganda's population has electricity. Fewer have running water. 
• Tribalism is a major problem in Africa. Even things like playing for football clubs are affected. If the coach is from your tribe, you are much more likely to play or even get signed. On a more serious note, something like 90% of government officials are the same tribe as the President, Museveni, who appointed them. Hiring is often done on basis of tribe in all sectors.
• African traditional worldview doesn't compartmentalize religion, politics, ecomonic, social issues, etc. the way we do in the west. Religious life is not, and cannot be, a separate life from economic or political life.

That's enough for now. If I think of anything else to fill you all in on I'll let you know. If you have any questions, please ask.

Love,

Chuck

A brief, simplistic thought on truth

Ok, I don't know exactly what sparked this, but I was thinking about truth this morning during class. 

So, the postmodern critique of modernity basically says that "truth" is in the hands of whoever is in power, and "truth" itself is manipulated by those in power to stay in power. That wasn't said very well, but basically what's "true" is whatever the person with the best weapons or most money says. This has lead some to believe that there is no truth, or no absolute truth. It seems like the prevailing attitude towards truth of my generation. I have been told many times to "believe what you want to believe" or "that's true for you." 

Most Christians have tended to freak out whenever the suggestion is made that there is no absolute truth, and have fallen back to modernism to prove it. How can you call a line crooked unless you know what a straight line is?

But, I think that argument misses the point. What's the point of a straight line if someone makes it into a sword and enslaves you with it? 

I'm dissatisfied with both.

My point is this: Truth exists, but if something that in fact is true is used for manipulation, power, and control it ceases to be true. Truth and love are so deeply intertwined with each other that I believe they can never be separated. 

That's why the truth of the cross of Jesus Christ is quite possibly the only true thing ever. That's why I could care less about American ideals of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. None of that means anything! It's all just rhetoric. That's why killing someone for something you believe, to me, proves that what you believe isn't true! 

How would it change the face of Christianity in politics and in history if the truth we live and die for is truth like the cross is truth? How would it deeply shake the foundation of our lives?

So, truth is dying to yourself and living for Christ. Truth is sacrificial love. Truth is laying down your life for your friends and your enemies. Nothing true can ever be used for earthly gain. There could never be two things farther apart that truth and manipulation.

I'll leave you with something N.T. Wright said at the lecture he gave last semester at Gordon-Conwell: 

"Truth does not come out of a checkbook or a gun."

I'm sure my argument is full of holes. Please help me find them. Especially all my philosopher and theologian friends out there. This thought is a work in progress, and very new to me. But I have to go now, but I wanted to share it before I left for the weekend. I'm going to a place called Rakai that is right near Rwanda and is in the southern hemisphere. PEACE!

I want to be a monk

"I talk about love, forgiveness, social justice; I rage against American materialism in the name of altruism, but have I even controlled my own heart? The overwhelming majority of time I spend thinking about myself, pleasing myself, reassuring myself, and when I am done there is nothing to spare for the needy. Six billion people live in this world, and I can only muster thoughts for one. Me."

-Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz pg. 22

This morning all my toothpaste was gone. The horror, the horror. 

I had put it in the bathroom that my host family and I share. My host mom said I should keep it in my room. I said, "No, that's alright. I'll share." Then, the inevitable happened: the toothpaste ran out. So, I thought to myself, maybe when I buy toothpaste I'll keep the next one to myself. Then, I thought, why is my breathe smelling fresh and clean more important than my family's breathe smelling fresh and clean?!? Why should my teeth matter more than theirs? 

Obviously this is a silly example, but this quote of Don Miller's that I read a few days ago popped into my head right away. This is just a tiny example, but how many more things in life are like this? Then, this afternoon, I was sitting in the shade in my favorite spot in the grass behind Bishop Tucker Hall, and I read this:

"A hermit that was very holy lived near to a community of monks. Some visitors to the community happened to go to see him and made him eat, though it was not the proper time. Later the monks of the community said to him, 'Weren't you upset, abba?' He answered, 'I am upset when I do my own will.'"

-The Desert Fathers: Sayings of the Early Christian Monks

What a concept! I was going to try to add some thoughts on here too, and maybe I will later, but for now I would just like to say that this idea really draws me in. So, dear friends, let us love each other like this. Let us die to ourselves, and all be 2nd century desert monks now, where ever we happen to be. 

Nobody should seek his own good, but the good of others.

1 Cor 10:24

Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. 

Matthew 16:24-25

P.S. I love Jesus. You should to. That's it.

A day in the life

So, I was thinking you might want to know what a typical day consists of for an American student at Uganda Christian University who lives with a Ugandan family. It's a bit long, so if you don't really care that much, I understand. But, here it is:

I usually wake up at 7:15 a.m.- (or 8:15 depending on the day). I share a room with my host brother Martin who is 25 and a school teacher. He takes me to watch English Premiership football matches at a restaurant on the weekends. I have a mosquito net over my bed, he does not. Africans are used to malaria, apparently.

After I wake up I put on khakis or other dress pants (strange I know, but I can't really wear athletic shorts around the house) and walk out and greet my mother, Mama Margaret. This is how you ask a Ugandan how they slept:

"How was the night?"

"The night was fine, how was the night for you?"

"The night was fine."

Then I bathe. I pour water that was collected from rain on the roof, into gutters, into a giant basin thing. The water is held in plastic containers called jerrycans, of which there are all different sizes. I pour the rain water into a small plastic basin that I set in the bath tub (I am lucky to have an indoor bath room to do this in by the way). I cup my hands and splash water on myself, lather up, then splash water onto myself again. The water is not hot, just to note. It's not quite as simple as jumping in the shower.

After I bathe, I get dressed in my nice school clothes. There is a different academic culture here in which "smartness" is valued a lot, but smartness doesn't mean intelligence, it means that you're well dressed. So I wear much nicer clothes here than I do at home. Strange.

Breakfast for me is morning tea. "African tea" is half hot milk, half hot water, with a tea bag (or just loose leaves). Tea is taken in the morning and in the evening before dinner. Usually we have bread and butter to dip in the tea, and sometimes we have chipote, which is a tortilla-like food that is sweeter and greasier... and better to have with tea.

My walk to school takes about 15 minutes. I walk on the main road which goes through Mukono. It is the road that takes you from Kampala, the capital, to Jinja, another main town in Uganda. Then I walk on a dirt road past a few school compounds and I arrive on campus. 

Most days I start class at 8:30 a.m. In New England that is 11:30 p.m., midwest 10:30 p.m., and Arizona 9:30 p.m. Other days I have class at 9:30 a.m. These are my classes:

Faith and Action

Missions

African Traditional Religions, Christianity, and Islam in Uganda

East African History 1800 to Independence

Reading the New Testament in Africa

Lunch is starts at 12:45. There isn't much variety, and it is usually rice, beans, matooke (think mashed potatoes but instead of potatoes, mashed bananas) and posho, which I'm not even going to try to explain more than just a white, soft block of... food.

Sometime in the day I use the internet and hang out with other USP students in our little building. Today, since it is raining super hard, I'm inside now online at 2 p.m. It varies, but I use the internet every school day (so send me emails!).

After lunch, on sunny days I sit in a chair behind Bishop Tucker Hall and read in the shade. It's so nice. It's probably the nicest place in all of Africa. And my favorite part of everyday.

Football (soccer, duh) with the UCU team starts at 5 p.m. It's been great so far. It's a pretty high level of play. Sometimes we just play 11-a-side, sometimes we have more organized training sessions with fitness and things. Ugandans, reflecting the African culture of not being individualistic, pass a lot. It's not really about making yourself look sweet, which is refreshing.

I walk home, and usually get there about 7 or 7:15 p.m. I bathe once I get home, even if I don't play football. Ugandans are clean. I'm not, but I have to be here. 

Evenings are either spent reading, watching the news with my family, watching old kung fu movies (check out Game of Death where Bruce Lee fights Kareem Abdul-Jabar and Snake in Eagles Shadow with a very young Jackie Chan), watching terrible Nigerian movies that are dubber into Luganda, or just sitting around. Evening tea is somewhere in the mix before dinner.

Dinner is usually around 10 p.m. It is usually rice, beans, matooke, and maybe some beef in soup that you pour onto everything. Again, not much variety, but more than lunch at school. Then I go to sleep.

Hope that gave you a decent picture of what life is like here. Not that it really went into what I'm learning, but hopefully that provides a framework for my other posts in the past and in the future. Hope you are all well! Send me an email, I miss a ton of people at home!

Love,

Chuck