Winfred Brown 4

To the right is Winfred Brown 4, the room I had last semester, and this semester.  It’s actually clean at present, so I thought it best to document it while in such pristine condition.  When Joan was here, my bed was in the same place, but the desk was under the window, and her bed parallel to mine.  The desk snugly between the two beds, so it was quite cozy.

Out of frame (to my right and left as I was standing in the doorway) are the closets.  Last semester, the bookshelf only fit right in front of my closet, so I had to slide it if I needed to get into the closet.  Obviously, from the books on the desk, when I took the photos, I was in the midst of my paper on community life in Acts.  The paper on the wall to the right are the Greek articles and case endings that I need to cram (memorize, though I should be learning them, not just storing in short-term memory).  I think they’re supposed to encourage me, but at present, they’re only mocking.  I did well on the tests, but they're not stored in long-term memory yet, which is a pity.

All the Africans who come to my room ask where my blanket is.  The sheet, doubled over, is sufficient top cover at night.  If I get cold, I close the curtains, then if desperate, I’ll get out my Polartec jacket, but that’s only happened once this semester.  Without fail, they’re amazed.  It cracks me up.  I mean, they understand that I come from a different climate, but it still shocks them nonetheless.

US v. Ghana

You guessed it... I'm procrastinating again.  :)  Also not feeling the greatest, so I see a trip to the clinic this week (Mom - I'm FINE.  It's just sinuses again.)


Prior to the World Cup, the theologians were instructed to cheer for the US, and stepped up to the task admirably.  Then came the match with Ghana.  Obviously, most of them deserted me.  There were only about 150-200 people maximum watching in the dining hall last night (which I attribute to it being on a weekend, when many go home).  And I think there was ONE other person cheering for the US.  I mean, when we scored our goal, I actually didn't fully realize what happened because there was no reaction from the audience.  There was a guy sitting behind me who patted me on the back when Ghana scored their goals, which I thought was pretty funny.  And thoughtful that he comforted me.  I wonder if he was one of the ones who was saying "God bless America" at the end of the match...


So, if we had to be knocked out, I'm glad it was by an African team, and the last one in the tournament to boot. As I had to explain to the class on why I wasn't cheering for Ghana (I really did have to explain.  Can you imagine?), I may be 52% African, but I still hold an American passport.

Other duties as assigned

I’m amazed that anyone here has time to study.  I’m not involved in all that much (comparatively), and I feel like I’m struggling to keep my head above water, fighting with time management, which is something that usually isn’t a problem for me.

In addition to the six classes I’m taking (eight of us are taking Greek; the others only have five) and the research proposal I need to finish soon (yikes!  I forget about that one, but am grateful that I can’t finish the literature review until I get to the US), I’m involved with:

-          Ggaba Mukono Ecumenical Contact (with the Catholic seminary in Ggaba) Executive Committee.  Fortunately, there’s quite little to do.  So little, in fact, that when filling our Sunday placement form, I forgot to list it.

-          International Students’ Fellowship Publicity Secretary.  Man, create a Facebook group, and you get to be a Secretary.  Fortunately, this also takes little time.

-          Theological International Students’ Fellowship Secretary.  This is our little fellowship of about 15 in our faculty, mostly just for fun, but it’s nice that the school recognizes that we’re from different lands, and gives us an opportunity to hang out.

-          Women in Ministry Fellowship.  No responsibilities, but little time to attend when the semester gets going.  This is just a gathering of the women in the theology department.

-          Evaluation Committee.  Our first meeting is tomorrow, but this is a group convened to evaluate different aspects of our common life in the department; discipleship, worship, etc.  I think I’ll be working on the discipleship piece.  I’m very excited to be a part of this, as we can do a lot of good, though this will take time.

And now, Sandra (the other American student) and I are putting together a workshop on how to lay read (though here, a lay reader actually leads the service in lieu of a priest).  I’m really excited about this one.  So is the faculty; attendance is now mandatory.  And Dr. Kalengyo, my lecturer for Homelitics, will be attending.  No pressure…  However, I’m also grateful to be able to contribute something back to the school, on a larger scale.

All this just reinforces to me that Africans don’t sleep.  This is rather unfortunate for me, as I actually need sleep.  This just reminds me of a line that Jan Karon uses in her books:  “No rest for the wicked, and the righteous don’t need none.”  That was funny until it resonated with me.

Flower power

After greeting exiting parishioners on Sunday, we go into the vestry (vesting room) for me to change out of my vestments, and for all to have a drink and a cake (small spice cupcake).  When I walked in on Sunday, a little girl about 18-24 months was crying, and working herself up for quite the show.  

She took one look at me, and stopped cold.  It was absolutely hysterical.  I waved, and she was so dumbstruck that she didn't wave back (though she's young.  I'll give her some slack.).  But who knew that my presence could stop an oncoming tantrum?!  A little guy in a suit and sneakers, about 3, gave me a big smile and wave - priceless!


Back to Malachi, then Greek before bed...

Orange to the rescue!

As I’ve griped below, power, and therefore the internet, has been dicey this semester.  The internet at the Honours College has always had issues (and we’re the only dorm to HAVE internet in our rooms, so perhaps I shouldn’t be whining), but this has been laughably unreliable.  Addendum:  it may be that they're trying to fix the electricity by stringing new lines.  Who knows?  This is Africa.  Anything's possible.

So I broke down and bought a broadband modem for my laptop, and pay for the internet time by the month.  It’s really not heinously expensive, just sad that I had to do it.  Orange is one of the wireless carriers here (and along with Mango, they have my favorite name.  If you’re watching the World Cup, you’ve probably seen MTN, the largest carrier here, and my cell phone carrier).  As a total aside, oranges, lemons, and limes are all green here.  Apparently they call the yellow lemons muzungu lemons.  J  I think it has something to do with the fact that it doesn’t get cold enough for the orange and yellow to show in the fruit.  Wild!

And I just realized the semester is half over.  Wow.  No wonder I’m overwhelmed with work.  But where did the time go?

World Cup madness

I’m no soccer fan, but I can muster when the US is playing.  Our first match was Saturday night at 9:30 (South Africa is an hour behind us).  The match went until 11:30 or so.  If they keep up this schedule, those boys will kill me.  There were a couple hundred people in the Dining Hall watching the match, and most were cheering for the US.  J  When our anthem was played at the beginning of the match, I can’t tell you how proud I was.  I’ve had it in my head ever since.

Clearly, if they play a match during the day when I have class, I can’t miss class… it’s too easy to see that the flower isn’t around.  Friday, when the World Cup started, there were maybe 25 people in Greek.  There are usually about 65.  It’s going to be one long month of soccer (football here – enough of my friends call it soccer that I forget).

Problems with power

Power in Uganda is never a given.  UCU has a generator, that for two semesters has switched on quickly and reliably.  This semester, however, is exceptional.  For example, it’s 11:10 pm Sunday, and the power just went out.  I can work on the laptop for a while, but reading from the book I’m using as a reference?  Not really.  I’ll probably try to use a flashlight for a minute, but holding it and typing should be a challenge.  Additionally, it’s hard for me to potentially exhaust my laptop battery, not knowing when it can charge again (especially on the weekend, but yeah, that’s mostly a rationalization for not working, though a serious one in the middle of the weekend.  Not as bad on a Sunday night, since the engineers will be back Monday morning, and usually return power when my shower is completed). 

And obviously, the internet needs electricity to run.  Big, big sigh. 

The one good thing about the power going out is that the kids in the hall usually get pretty quiet.  This old girl really, really appreciates that.  J

First pulpit sermon

I preached my first pulpit sermon last Sunday.  And what a pulpit it is… donated by the good Christians in Southwell Diocese, England, the thing has got to be about four feet off the floor, with a really long staircase leading up to it.  'twas a bit imposing on first walk.

Unless the service includes Holy Communion, the sermon is the last item in the service.  So we start with music, have the confession, the readings, the Apostle’s Creed (Nicene if there’s Communion), announcements, and more music.  During the announcements, the preacher is introduced.  This Sunday, I finally met Canon Titus Baraka, who is the mission coordinator at the cathedral.  It took some time to convince him that I am doing my whole program at UCU.  But he was sufficiently impressed that when he introduced  me, he explained that I’m doing my whole program here (vice the USPs who are only here for a semester, I guess), and said that I’m “amazing Jessica.”  Whoa.  No pressure for a great sermon there…

And God certainly redeemed that sermon.  When I practiced it Saturday night, it clocked in at 10 minutes 34 seconds.  Not fabulous for an American sermon; disastrous for an African sermon (though they teach us to aim for 15-20 minutes; I’ve not yet heard a church sermon for less than 25 minutes).  The service started late, so I was relieved that my sermon was short.  I had warned the vicar ahead of time that it was short, so I think  he must have been at least as surprised as I was when I talked for 20 minutes.  And we still ended on time.  Alleluia!  Canon Titus said after the service I had power.  Praise God; I certainly was a bit nervous to feel powerful, especially when standing above the congregation.  But I’m encouraged nonetheless.  My supervisor (the department Dean) was there; it’s a good thing I couldn’t see her.  Her husband is the diocesan secretary; he said he was home with the baby, and was sorry to have missed me.  One of my lecturers was there, as was one of the lecturers I’ll have next semester, and some of my classmates (which was a surprise – they didn’t know I was preaching)… I feel like I’m being evaluated by the entire faculty.  J

Guess who was on TV?

Apparently I was... NTV, one of the major channels here, covered the service at Namugongo, and one of my classmates told me that last night's newscast included a shot of me.  Obviously, it would be easy to see me there; I only saw one other muzungu.  When we moved into the tent, we were in prime view of the cameras that kept panning (a lot of clergy were placed there).  Here I thought it was just for the monitors at the service.  Nope.

In other news, my American alb was quite the hit in chapel this morning.  I'm told I look rather smart in it, and Amos wants to know how I tie the cincture.  I don't think it's wildly different from what they wear here, but clearly, I'm wrong.  Who knew?   

The African flower

I can't remember whether I've mentioned this before, but I'm the flower.  :)   One of the MDiv girls told me my first semester that I was a flower, so now some of my friends call me "our only flower."  I mean, it's pretty easy to spot me in a crowd; the flower stands out.  

Uganda Martyr's Day

June 3 is Martyr's Day, a day set aside to remember the 31 Christians who were martyred in 1886 in Namugongo (which is about 20 minutes away from Mukono, if there's no traffic).  This is a national holiday, and there are services in Namugongo at both the Anglican and Catholic shrines.

I didn't go to Namugongo last year, primarily because I didn't know about it, and I had an insane amount of work to do.  This year, I still have an insane amount of work to do, but I had promised Alison Barfoot last year that I would attend this year.  According to her, it's like the Fourth of July on the Mall; everyone should do it once in their lifetime.  Each year, the school takes the school bus (think Greyhound-sized) and pays admission for anyone who can fit on the bus.  This year, they announced that priority would be given to international students when registering.  Clearly, I had to go.

It was less crowded than I thought it would be; there were only about 3-4,000 people at the Anglican shrine, and actually felt a bit like Wolftrap, with people sitting on a hill across from the church.  President Musevini was there, so security was tight; we had to go through a metal detector (in the middle of a field.  Seriously.), and I had to return my camera to the bus.  I wish I had pictures!

What we saw of the service was very nice; lots of speeches, of course.  The Diocese of West Ankole was in charge this year, so the service was in Ankole, Luganda (the major language), and English.  Originally, I was sitting with two of my friends along the road that the procession passed.  Onesimus, the Archbishop's chaplain, waved at me.  Archbishop Orombi was waving at everyone, but smiled at me.  I'm fairly confident he saw me; how could he miss the African flower?!  Whether he remembers meeting me at All Saints' is another matter, but my story is that he smiled and waved at me, and I'm sticking to it.  :)  We were later directed to a tent (one of my friends is clergy, and I'm a muzungu, a valued guest), which was nice.  Fortunately, it was overcast, and therefore not too hot.  But the retaining wall we had been sitting on was awfully uncomfortable for the 30 minutes or so we were there, so I was incredibly grateful to be asked to move.

We were there officially for three hours, and left after the president's speech and before communion.  We saw the place where the martyrs were burned alive, the hut in which the executioner pronounced death sentences, and the tree to which the martyrs were tied and tortured.  Docents were at each site, telling the story of that particular place.  Naturally, there were people selling calendars, posters, hats, water, etc.  

What struck me the most, though, was that this holiday is faithfully observed every year.  And sincerely.  Perhaps I'm becoming cynical in my older age, but do we really do things like this in the US?  And with this devotion?  I'm going to be thinking on that one for a bit.