Grace in Gulu

On Monday night, while 6 of the teachers huddled around a laptop to watch a documentary about Idi Amin (really just film clips of his life),  another group was in the next room discussing religion and faith and why man chooses to do good.  After the movie was over,  I came into this room to listen.  It was a great intellectual conversation with many teachers and one of the IC staff debating and analyzing some pretty heavy thoughts.  It was the kind of conversation that a slightly younger John Magee would have battled to be a part of,  I would have tried my best to convince them of the wisdom of my thoughts.

Age is a funny thing,  most of the times on this trip,  I am like the Ugliest Dachsund, the Disney Classic.  I am an old man,  in a big great dane's body convinced I am still a dachsund and in my twenties.  I felt that way at Fort Patika,  as even Sweetie in her plastic shoes and dress was able to ascend higher on the mountain than this one.   And then there was the time when Bill's partner teacher and I were having this great conversation.  He told me I was more than a brother to him (ha! maybe he should have stopped there) ,  I was like a father to him. But there are also times, most times in fact, where I treasure my vast wealth of experiences the stories I know,  the friends I have made, and the friends I have lost.  

It was in this context that I just listened,  kind of reading an autobiography of Sam Cooke,  but mostly listening.   The concept of grace came up,  and the one teacher went looking for a dictionary because none of the participants had a real good definition of grace.  One said it was receiving something that you truly don't deserve.  One teacher got on her laptop and told us the Apple definition of grace.  I went to bed Monday night thinking about grace,  or really Grace.

Tuesday was a busy day,  with much to do.  I went into Gulu SS and tried to collect pen pal letters,  but there concentration is all on their finals.  (GOOD).   But one student had a letter for Maggie Herr,  and I pulled out my camera to show them pictures of Maggie and the rest of the Biloxi crew.  They were amazed at the interior construction pictures.  I then went to the internet cafe, see yesterday's post,  went to Kope Cafe and of course waited an hour for my food,  boda-ed to the IC office to save on a spreadsheet the survey results of 80 students and 14 faculty from Atanga SS.   Finishing just in time to go back,  grab batteries for the Awere Hip-Hop Club meeting.  

At Awere,  I was warmly greeted by the faculty and the head teacher, Matthew.  Blake,  a teacher of Awere in year 2,  joined me and we went to a concrete floor building to watch these students dance, rap,  and where they showed us the song they are working on writing that has equal parts English and Lwo.   It was great,  I have videos!!!!  Lauren, Abby, and Joanna I hope you are reading this,  you have a core group that is really running with your ideas.  Blake is trying to download beats for them to use in this group.  

I was meeting Henry, my Gulu SS partner at 7 pm,  so at 5:30 p.m.  it was into town with Odong Collins Otika to grab cold water and look for a wedding card,  as I think Henry is getting married on Saturday--- if the response from the bride's family comes in time!   I found a very ornamental card with sequins and glitter that I chose out of 5 similar cards (Henry loved the card and cherished it later that night as we parted ways).   Collins and I walked back to the IC house and I gave him the light up frisbee I had bought for the trip,  but not really used.   Now 25 minutes to dinner,  I was sweating and rushed.  Doreen's dinner looked good so I had some of the Chapati Chicken Burrito kind of thing.   Still sweating, still rushed,  and then I thought.....

I asked 2 of the teachers who were talking about Grace to follow me.  We walked out the front gate, took a left,  where a choir was practicing beyond the wall of St. Kizito counseling center. ("Free counseling all the time-you are welcome", reads their sign in front).  We walked past a few small huts with children yelling munu and asking us "How are you?!!".  I exchange Apwoyos with an old woman carrying some food.  Including an Apwoyo Bah as a sign of respect.   We passed by the barb-wired compound of some primary school where over 100 children were lining up for a dinner of posho.  Their smiles and calls to us were great.  One of the young boys, who did not fear, raised a fist in the air with an exaggerated walk.  I mimicked his style and we shared a great laugh.  ....

Through more huts,  exchanging smiles and greetings with everyone we met.  It was now past time to go,  but wait just a little bit more....slow down... this walk is good.   As we turned to walk back, there it was the Northern Uganda sunset peeking through the trees with bright and soft colors at the same time--oranges, and blues, and maybe a little bit of purple.  In the foreground, was a simple village.

I was not sure that I would be able to find it when I started the walk,  but I was pretty sure. 

It usually happens in these small villages on slow walks of this type. 

 Somewhere in this fifteen minutes,  was the Grace that was so elusive the night before.   It might have been in the laughter of the toddlers, running on uncertain legs to greet the white people.  It might have been in the gap toothed smile of the old woman,  smiling a little more after our exchange of greetings.  It might have been in the raised fists of the primary boys or their exaggerated kung fu moves,   or it may have been in the sunset.

Finding Grace in Gulu,

John