Call me a School Teacher

Sometimes the life I am living here feels like I’m a child again living the adventures you only read in storybooks. Yesterday, we went chicken chasing, fruit discovering, and learned how to do some bead making. Paula is an elderly woman who owns a market shop to provide some income for Dwelling Places. We helped her with the crafts, and she seemed beyond grateful to have us making the process flow more quickly. While we were making our crafts, our friend Ambrose came to take us to a school in Kampala to teach the children their human rights. Little did we know, this would be quite an adventure.

There is so much I want to say, but not enough time to get it all out. This will be my feeble attempt to let you in the adventure I had yesterday. We walked to dwelling places to meet our friends Joseph, Denis, and Ambrose. Grateful to have three locals with us, we made our way to the main street for our first taxi experience. A pang of fear and anxiety shot through me as we walked into unfamiliar territory. The taxis are crammed with 15 people sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and makeshift seats throughout the car. We hopped in the car and I looked up to see a man run in, shut the door, and plop right down in Dawn’s lap. I can only imagine the discomfort and shock she felt in that moment. My eyes were drawn quickly away from her only to look down and see that between my feet was a hole in the car where I watched the dirt road whipping past beneath me.

I sat in silence staring out the window only to realize that, as buildings got closer and the population increased, we were heading to the heart of the city. We arrived at our destination and hopped out of the car only to have all eyes on us. Being a “Mzungoo” in Kampala, you certainly have to take some heat, and my gratitude for our native friends only got stronger. As we made our way to the school, we did our best to ignore the taunting comments coming at from all sides from men in the streets. Finally, we made our way to the school, and I was happy to be inside the gated area.

Long story short, I didn’t know where we were following Ambrose, but we ended up following him into a dimly lit classroom with only the light from the windows coming in. I rounded the corner to see hundreds of eyes peering at us. There I was, standing front and center of a classroom with about one hundred students, having no idea what I was about to tell them. I was both nervous and delighted. The children were lovely, and spoke many things in unison. They sit side-by-side and range from muslims to Christians as well as from ages 8 to 16. Ambrose and Denis opened things up, and then handed us a sheet of paper and gave it over to us. Not knowing what to do or exactly what they meant by teaching “human rights” (as far as Uganda goes I mean) I just put my big girl panties on and went with it. I started by asking them the questions “What is a human right, and what does that mean to you?” To my surprise, tons of little hands shot up in the air and things seemed to roll from there.

We talked to them about their importance, their worth, and shared bits of the gospel with them. It is wonderful to be a part of teaching children how important they are. These kids are used to hearing that they are bad and not worthy enough for certain things. I loved getting to tell them the truth against these lies they hear on a daily basis. They all had smiles on their faces, and seemed sad when we were done talking to them. They followed us out of the classroom climbing all over us and wanting us to stay. It is my favorite thing we’ve done thus far, and I wish I had the time and patience to elaborate further. It is an experience I will never forget, and I am honored to have taken a part in it.
The taxi experience on our way back is one I must have to tell at another time. I felt like a piece of meat in a lions den walking to the taxi pad, and at other times I felt cold as ice ignoring the small children begging for money and following us down the street. The taxi pad is a chaotic clump of taxis sitting bumper to bumper. I was just glad to find myself thirty minutes later safe and in our new, little home. I sat thankful for the hedge of protection the Lord provided that day.

I wish I could tell you all the many things I get to see and do, but even picking and choosing the right stories gets hard at times. Thanks to all of you for encouraging emails and comments. Checking the Internet and having warm hellos from home is both comforting and encouraging. But as for now, I’m off to see what this day holds.

This morning I read this and felt so very loved. I am praying this truth over the children here, and perhaps the Lord may use it to do the same for you;

“For the LORD takes pleasure in His people;
He will beautify the afflicted ones with salvation.” Psalm 149:4