I wanted so badly to write while we were in the Aketinino village, but not having internet made it difficult, so presently I would like to share some of the day to day experiences of our village life.
We lived in a small 3 room unfinished village house with a bathroom, solar (that means no electricity), and running water when available. The water was not safe for drinking, which made it necessary to purchase loads of bottled water in town, even when it grew scarce during dry season. Surrounding the small yard was a brick wall giving some safety and blockage from view. As evening fell on the house for the first night, we realized in great shock, “There are no screens on these windows. This will not due!” But what could we do in this rental. If we closed the normal glass windows we nearly suffocated in the heat, but there was no other option, yet even then the mosquitos could squeeze through the closed windows. We did have mosquito nets around the beds. After several nights David needed to replace the children’s wholly mosquito net. While he was about to throw the old one out, I thought aloud, “Stop! I have an idea. Can you get me some strong tape from town?” In necessity, I cut the mosquito net up and taped it to each of the window openings drastically reducing the number of mosquitos entering our house each evening. We taped all the other openings and cracks we could find and prayed for God’s protection. It surely wasn’t pretty, but it functioned and kept us clear of malaria during those first eight months.
Dry season pervaded our time during the months in the village, yet malaria was still common among the villagers. We retired to the house as it became dark. Not so the nationals. We were bewildered how late they could stay up and still awake bright and early. Most of the village hung out in small groups in the late evenings with friends having their late night meals as they burned wet wood to try and smoke the mosquitos out. All too often, there would be a party, a LOUD party that would blare all night long, keeping us all awake, to only die down around 7am. Other nights, we would hear the African wild dogs on the hunt. It took us a while to discover what they were. But, my favorite nights were those when the rains would come pounding on our metal roof. There is something so comforting about rainy nights that we would have a good night’s sleep.
These months were filled with rich times getting to know the people in our village. The boys ran free throughout the huts and village families after school delighted in these days of free play with the children. The boys all so natural ability to build relationships furnished them with opened door among the families and people of the village. As they made associations between the village neighbors that were related, they would run home and announce to me with great astonishment, “Mom, did you know that Lucas is Opio and Ocin’s uncle? It’s like our church back home!” These connections came frequently and we realized it was almost one big family.
One of the cultural customs still in practice in our village is that the children of any age could, for the most part, run to and fro throughout the village streets and houses, greeting friends and family with little to no supervision, but at times came a watchful eye from the matriarch. The boys followed in this custom, except they had to be in ear shot of our voice and they had to check in rather frequently. This freedom allotted them invitation into most peoples homes, learning their routine and procedures for a huge variety of tasks like: planting, harvesting, binding into sheaves, meal preparation, bathing practices for the young children, help for the elderly or sick, treatment for the different age groups, etc . . . Acquiring the language is just naturally what followed. Their pronunciation was as good as any national. It was quite astounding.
On the other hand, it took me all day to live. Between schooling the boys, caring for the boys and Anais, quite frequent market trips because things rotted quickly in the heat without a refrigerator, cleaning the produce, preparing meals, washing laundry by hand, personal reading time, trying to keep the dusty house clean in a village full of bacteria so we didn’t get sick, and daily late nights with Anais to try to bring some relief to her aching head. I, unfortunately, had little time to get out and sit with the women. Nonetheless, I was able to walk throughout the huts and meet neighbors and form lasting friendships with some of the people as I practiced language.
David on the other hand, sat at the “city gate”, okay it was the boda boda corner, most every day for hours and made deep lasting friendships with the passers-by of the village. A boda boda is a motorcycle tax frequently used in Uganda. In the evening the men would gather there and discuss matters of life. David became trusted and was invited to sit in these gatherings and was even asked his opinions on family matters. Here he had great opportunity to speak into their situations. Several times, men asked him about “caning” (beating a child with a stick or rod which was a normal practice) and disciplining children. David shared how we have a predetermined unity in our discipline and how we pray over the child afterwards. He also shared what the Bible has to say to the fathers about teaching and loving their families. Most of these men were common villagers with no faith, some were catholic, and a hand full were Muslims. Through the many discussions over the months, David found that the Muslims were actually open and more apt to understand deeper topics, and then the Catholics, and lastly the Christians. I don’t know if this is the form of school they attended or the family communication at home, but it struck me boldly and burdened me intensely. Here we Christians have the truth-THE ONE AND ONLY TRUTH, GOD THE FATHER, GOD THE SON, GOD THE HOLY SPIRIT and for so many reasons we are not taking our role and responsibility serious to make disciples. I don’t think making disciples is merely teaching the Bible, but it is so much more. God made us whole creatures and each part of this needs to be addressed. Discipleship is teaching how to think through the multiple life decisions that enter our daily living and careers. It is teaching order and control of ones self, dependence on Christ, Spirit life, biblical work ethics, teaching great and original thinking, (God’s children have the mind of Christ), healthy and happy parenting and marriages, hygiene, business practices, prayer in all things and at all times, kingdom work, love, neighborliness, and hospitality just to name a few. David had many opportunities to answer so many of these questions that the men gathering around daily asked him. A couple of the Muslims were open to the Gospel and he continued in these relationships.
The village life was a full life where we had the opportunity to interact so much more with the nationals than we ever had in Jinja. Even though daily life was challenging and grueling, I count our time in the village as a treasure because we made deep lasting relationships and we learned so much more about the people and the culture than we could have in ten years here in town.
