Walk to Atanga SS

Walk to Atanga SS

Monday, July 7, 2014

Roses for HIV

     I went shopping today.  Trying to figure out some small way to return the generosity of good friends, when there is really no way possible.  But today, I travelled on new streets and new paths and     saw so much beauty and in the end sadness.  I went back to Wawoto Hacel, which sells crafts made by women who have been abandoned due to war or HIV.  I thought of something today, I received a lot of great supports from long time friends and now I am trying to buy gifts for their wives.  And although I try, I really do not have any sense of color, style, or what people want.  Still I like the shop and people who have got gifts from there before smiled broadly.  Of course, it could be like the Christmas where I made duct tape purses and wallets for many,  they all smiled, but I have never seen any of those purses again.  Still there is some nobility in the attempt.  I left the store before the others, because I do not know how to browse,  I just buy.  I ran into two Italian nuns who wanted to talk to me about all they have added to their grounds.  I walked through a metal gate and saw the most wonderful garden and pavilion and brand new huts.  These had been built as another source of income to help the women with HIV.  The Sister was quite proud of what they have created, but also in the same conversation was worried about how they could generate business.  I promise I will get back there to take a picture...I had no camera today.

        I was doing some reconnaissance on some plans I have for tomorrow to try to share a little kindness in Uganda.  I stopped and got a Rolex at a Rolex stand.  Rolex is short for Rolled Eggs...say it fast.  And it was interesting as the cook who stands just off the street squirts cooking oil on to a concave piece of metal on a fire.  A lot of his efforts seemed very similar to a made to order omelette chef at a fancy buffet in St.,Louis.  I was enjoying watching the skill of the chef, when an old woman kneeled/sat at my feet.  I knew what was to come next.  As I paid my 1500 shillings (about 62 cents) the old woman raised her had in my direction begging for some of my change.   I remember in the past the Ugandans telling me why I should not give these women money.  But today, those reasons were far away.

        I wish I could end this story tonight, where I told a story about handing the woman some of my change, offering her my hand, and finding out her name.  But I just walked away, an underemployed man of 3 years, who is still richer than most people in our world.  Next week, I will see Father Leonsyo and maybe I can ask him to hear my confession.  Just like Pope Francis says, "I am a sinner."

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