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."

People along the way.

    So decided if I was going to lose my Ugandan 20 pounds,  I better start doing some walking.  I live on the western edge of  "downtown" Gulu and my plan was to walk to Pece Stadium, which is on the eastern edge.  Gulu is very spread out as a those at Sir Samuel Baker and Ocer Campion consider themselves in Gulu and those are both twenty five minute boda rides.

     I have not yet gotten hold of Odawa Henry, my teaching partner, at Gulu SS in the second year I was here.  So I have been to his house/apartment for dinner twice and my plan was just to go there and see if I could find him.  It was hard at first to find his house because they were I think two new buildings between Pece Stadium and his house. I started wandering through some yards, not knowing  if I was wrong to walk through these places.  I finally saw 3 older people sitting on the ground staring at me.  I told them I was looking for Henry, and they told me he used to live there, but was now in Kitgum.  They encouraged me to call him, which I did in front of them to no avail.  All three of them could not have been nicer and were genuinely disappointed that I had not made a connection with my friend.

    On the way to Henry's I was greeted by the large booming voice of Aliker David, my friend from the first couple of summers.  When I looked right at him, he said, "Of course, it is me John."   A big handshake followed and we made plans for a future lunch or dinner.  Aliker has always greeted me so   warmly in the past and I look forward to our lunch.

    So the friend I looked for was not there, but the friend I was not looking for greeted me with a big, smiling greeting.  Life sometimes is a lot more fun when you find what you are not looking for.

    So returning home, and I am stopped by a boda boda driver.  It is not uncommon for people to recognize me from previous years, but I looked at the driver and I immediately knew that it was Michael a former security guard for Invisible Children.  As Invisible Children drastically reduces its footprint in Gulu, it is kind of sad to see great employees and great friends in jobs that I believe pay a lot less.  Michael is an amazing young man who was abducted by the LRA, taken into the bush.  He somehow contracted Cholera and the soldiers were worried about contagion so they tied his ankle to a long rope, and gave it a yank twice a day to see if he was still alive. Somehow Michael survived dying of Cholera tied to a rope in the middle of the bush, survived to escape and start his own family here.

    One more story--I left Holy Cross Mass and since I was moved by an usher to a prominent pew in the middle of the homily.  All he knew me in the packed church had a chance to say hi afterwards.  I met Doreen who was our great cook at the IC house for the first years of the program.  I met Grace who was Jill Knopic Pammler's partner teacher in the same year as Ocwa Alfred came to St. Louis and Nerinx......but the best was a young student who came up to me as a former student.  As a teacher, who likes to know each kid by name.  It kills me that I do not recognize more of my Ugandan students.  After exchanging greetings, she told me she was at Gulu SS and then asked, "Sir, How is Lisa Godfrey doing?"  The pen pal program was less successful than I would have liked and a      lot of that Responsibilty is mine.  Yet, at least 4 years later a young woman named Prossie Aloyo was trying to again reach out to her friend Lisa, makes me realize how much those letters sent from America are treasured.  I hope Lisa will find this story and find me and maybe we can somehow reunite these two friends.

Women with Others--Part II

    Melissa Hopfinger in Gulu.  You can say what you want about Facebook,  but it allows me often to see my wonderful students and the Grace they are spreading in our world.  Jaime Mathieu and Andrea Hoelting walked the entire En Camimo--The Walk of St. James.  For those of who have watched those two live life,  we would all likely pay big money for film of their interactions with different people along the way.  Jaime is one of the elite Biloxi Superstars and I do not know one of Andrea's classmates that doesn't want to hang with her and watch her humor and laughter interact with others.  Spending time with these two had to be sheer joy for the travelers along En Camimo.

    I first learned Melissa was in Gulu through a Facebook post.  Pretty soon I was organizing a Coffee Hut meeting between her and Kristine Sullivan.   Now today I was at Ocer Jesuit being led across the school grounds to meet Hop.  I remember seeing Melissa when I made a surprise appearance at The Power & Light District in Kansas City for Caitlin Weir's birthday.  I was talking to Caitlin about her studies and graduate plans, when the subject switched to Melissa.  Caitlin and all of Melissa's classmates are so in awe of what she accomplishes, but also so comfortable with her.  She is just Hop, the ultimate buddy, the nothing bothers her girl, the great friend the great teammate.

     I am going to send this post to Emily Werner who coached Melissa in softball at Nerinx.  Emily will not be surprised about my stories or comments about Melissa.  It helps to know that Emily is one of the best coaches I ever coached with.  Who coached her team to be a true team, and inderstood that each athlete she coached was special in her own way.  These kids were great, but were even better after two years with Coach Werner.  Melissa was such a great teammate and a great kid to coach that we would laugh about how her doing great things was so ordinary. We would share conversations or deeds that she did with each other and just look at each other and smile.  "Of course, Melissa did that. Of course"  Fast forward, and I see young girl students approaching and smiling and greeting Melissa as they walked through the school yard.  Melissa has the same always approachable smile in Gulu that she welcomed freshmen softball players into her house for the annual   Sleepover at the Hop basement.  "Emily, you cannot believe Melissa in Uganda, but then of course you can it's Hop."

      It was great talking to Melissa about her future. I told several students and teachers at Ocer Jesuit Campion that Melissa was the best math student I have taught.  (Maggie C. And all my preCalc Honors or AP Calc students this year...I love you too).  Then I watched Melissa aw shucks her way out of this praise.  Melissa told me that Ecuador was going to be next, but now the Peace Corps was an option.  So here is this quadruple Math, Biology, Chemistry?  major (could be quintuple) kid who is choosing to place herself WITH those that need her help.  Crave her love, and relish her conversation like gold.  And Melissa is showing these girls that Math and Science are not only within their reach, but they can excel in these subjects.

     It was time to say goodbye, Melissa walked me to the boda stand and I had to walk out through the gate to meet the motorbike on the other side.  As I looked back through the fence, I saw 3 girls walk up to Melissa smiling and then they continued walking together down the path talking and laughing.  Hop WITH 3 students walking down a path in the middle of Uganda.

Of  course,  right Emily.

Women With Others--Part I

     So sometime in my Jesuit experience, the expression, "Men for others" was shared with me. I loved it, I felt it and I strived to live it. To me that what being a Man was, being the one who took care of others, protected others, listened to others. I just spent a week with 4 great men, Ken Kempf, John Kuehner, Tim Milford, and Craig Steenkamp there were other great men there also, but I have seen this quartet show me what it meant to be a Man for Others. I first saw "Men and Women for Others" in the Marquette Magazine. Of course, so logical especially when often women are better at it then men. Father Boyle encourages us to move past service into kinship. Move down that hallway of service, to the ballroom with all of the others.

    So over the years, I knew that there was a Jesuit school in Gulu, but I had never taken the time to see it. It is a 35 minute boda ride, down a few dirt roads, but obstacles like this can always be overcome with just a little bit of effort. So Kristine lined up a reliable boda and after some decimal equivalents with Isaac I was on my way to Ocer Jesuit Campion. Tony was a great boda driver and talked for the entire time. UNfortunately, he loved to talk with his hands which can be a wonderful, dynamic conversation tool but not for a guy driving you on a bumpy road. Uh-oh boda boda crash 8??? Incidentally, Tony described to me after I shared my fears all of the reasons I was not going to fall of his boda. we made it no problem,and in the middle of fields and rural green lushness rose this wonderful school. Ocer Jesuit Campion. I was looking for Melissa Hopfinger, former Nerinx Hall Marker, but asked the guard to take me to Father Tony's office.

   In I walked to Father Tony's office,  immediately I saw a Jesuit priest who welcomed me with heart of a man who regularly  welcomes lost souls into his office.  We talked about teaching and students and Gulu and then asked him his advice on one young student.  He was immediately working on the problem,  and was asking relevant questions about this young man.  He offered up advice from a veteran teacher who truly cared about each kid...so simple one child at a time.  He then brought in his assistant Jackie who also offered help, asked good questions, and I could definitely see was a great asset to Father Tony and the school.  Jackie escorted me down to look for my friend in the teachers' room, and that was the last of my conversation with Father Tony.  I will be disappointed if I do not work to have another talk with him.  

    I have kind of buried the lead here as are "Women with Others" have not even appeared in the story yet.  I am reading Neil Young's book each night, so I blame old Neil for my rambling style.  

    So when I first heard "Men for Others" It really was something I wanted to be.   To me that was the purpose of being a man.  Being there to watch over, protect, serve and help others.  I loved this bit of Jesuit Jingoism.  It was in Marquette Magazine that I first saw "Men and Women for Others"....of course 400 strong Biloxi women prove that to me every summer.  And then of course, Father Boyle challenges us to move past the "Men and Women for  Others" to "Men and Women with Others".   He challenges us to move down that hallway of service to the ballroom of kinship where we are standing together WITH PEOPLE.   I had this written last night and lost this paragraph,  but I remember thinking about Ken Kempf, John Kuehner, and Tim Milford.  Each of these three men in the own unique or "Popular" way was always thinking about others, helping others, and being with others.

      

What happens to a dream deferred.....

     I thought I was going to join two different teachers for meals today. But T.I.A. and also apparently this old man is confused also. The young man I thought was a teacher at Layibi college named Okello John Kennedy was actually a student named Okello John Kenneth. He brought along his friend Raphael and both of the boys had been students at Pope Paul VI in Anaka. They had originally called me around 11 a.m. (A cat or large rat just ran under my feet). ntold them I could not go to lunch, because I was working with Isaac. I think Khan Academy is a great way for Isaac to transition into American math. The lesson with Isaac was over and I met John Kenneth and Raphael, I suggested lunch at Butterflies

       . We all ordered beans and rice, I was happy with my Orange Fanta and the two boys ordered Fruity Miranda. Half way through the meal I ordered chips (French fries). We talked about many things including the words French fries. They are two more young men, who have been derailed on their educational dreams by their inability to pay their school fees. That is why what Kristine and Laura are doing is so important. Www.educateforchange.us They are not only providing school fees and scholarships, but an all encompassing support system for more than 40 scholars.

          I wish I could win the lottery and provide young men and women a path to their educational dreams. Hell, I just wish I had been full-time for the last three years so I could do more here. I think about these two who after calling me this morning, just killed two hours by probably walking around and talking. just like they do every day .... I am glad to have helped Isaac this morning and the commitment I made to stay with him was the right choice, but it really does not make me feel any better about my contribution to the waiting time of my students, John Kenneth and Raphael.

Sometimes We Forget

     Okay so there is often so much to make me laugh or smile in Uganda.  It could be things like Father Leonsyo telling me near the end of the ordination speeches that we have 3 more speeches and then we eat, which of course translates to 9 speakers, several of them came back to the podium more than once to add on to their completed speeches.  This is Uganda. I did not understand the speeches because they were in Lwo, but I can guarantee that each of the speakers mentioned a couple times during their 10 to 12 minute speeches that they were going to be brief.

      They had different school groups perform. One of them was called the Crusdaders and looked like a combination Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts program. The tribal dancers again amazed at how they are feverishly moving for 17 minutes at a time and the only break is about a 7 second break as the whistle blower signals a new dance. The star of the show was a young girl of 5 or 6 who led a group of similar aged students. She grabbed the wireless mike from the MC in mid-stride and either sang or recited a skit for at least 10 minutes. She danced and had elaborate gestures and must have memorized the whole act, because she never stopped singing or talking. She had a microphone, but I am not sure she needed it. I have some video, but it is from far away and will have to share with you later. Beyonce has nothing on this Acholi 10 year old girl.

     So Mass ended and I walked alongside the priests per Leonsyo's directions. We then marched back to the stage, now stripped of the altar, led by two different dance groups. I was now onstage with the priests, town and government dignitaries and what appeared to be a mad man. (The Acholi call him a mad man, and I will use their words for the rest of the story, when they say it, they say it with humor, they say it with acceptance, they say it with love).  It looked like some parishioners scolded the mad man and tried to get him to stay away from the stage, but I saw the Archbishop just reach out and touch his shoulder in a kind way. So when the priests, bishops, and dignitaries were being introduced the mad man stood up several times and took a bow. At least 12 or 13 people spoke for about 3 hours.

       The crowd was content and still seemed to be listening intently two hours in. When the Archbishop was introduced and rose to speak the madman followed him to the podium. It was time for the keynote speech by the Archbishop, the highlight of this three hour program.  As he approached the podium, the mad man went with him, Knelt respectfully at his feet, and asked for the microphone. The Archbishop gave it to him and the madman gave a four minute speech on non-violence (I was told). Father Boyle's words that we "stand with the marginalized, so there will be no more margins; stand with the demonized, so the Demonizing will stop; and stand with the disposable, so we stop throwing people away."---never were modeled so well. Thank you Archbishop John Baptist Odama for showing me how to treat my brother....no matter what No matter what.  This man full of dirt with raggedy clothes, spread love with his words.

      I found out today they call the man Forget.

 Sometimes we love each other, and sometimes we forget.

Seeing the face of God

     Today was an amazing day. I had plans to be at the ordination at St. Joseph's Cathedral and later meet Father Leonsyo. I thought my sleep patterns were getting better, but I managed to crawl back in bed for 5 minutes after breakfast and woke up way too late. I hurried to the bath at the end of the hall, showered quickly and put on as much deodorant as my body could stand. I definitely knew I would sweat today. Shirt and tie on, I found a boda boda to take me the Cathedral. I knew the regular road was being worked on, and I thought we would take the back roads, but this boda driver elected the main road. Probably a big mistake, I am always hoping that I will not  be tossed off the boda for e eighth time.

    For some reason they are now large moguls in this road, don't ask me why, but an unsteady boda driver and a fat man are not usually the recipe for success at the Ugandan X games. He also did not have sunglasses so when the big trucks came down the road we were both buried in a cloud of dust. I did not fall off and we go to the Cathedral, very dusty but safe.

    As sometimes happens at these ceremonies, I was greeted immediately by a friendly face. Okello John Kennedy who is a teacher at Layibi College (it is a high school) welcomed me and introduced himself.  THIS LAST SENTENCE IS WRONG.  His name is Okello John Kenneth and if you read the more recent posts, I have lunch with him.  I. was amazed at the pageantry, the bright colors of the dresses, and the spirit and passion in the way the people of Gulu sang the hymns. I was really in awe and tried my best to follow the responses in English when the entire service was in Lwo. I was trying to figure out how to go to Communion down the center aisle. I wanted people to see that I was there because I knew I had friends there that did not know I was in Gulu. As I was thinking this, a young woman came and got me and told me I was supposed to sit up by the priests. I was quickly moved behind the altar and to the other side.

     This was an outdoor service with at least 3000 people. Now at the beginning of communion they are sitting me in the front row of dignitaries under a shaded tent. You are a visitor, and we know you are our friend....so we will give you best seat. As I was so humbled, communion had begun I walked to take my place in line and I see both a professional videographer and a still camera moving their tripods quickly so they can have film of the tall white guy taking communion. I was immediately overwhelmed by the moment and a tear slid down my cheek. I felt like sobbing, but refocused on receiving the Eucharist and returned to my seat. I do not know how to describe the Mass and the songs and the dancing and the War chants in the middle of the hymns. I feel it is a scene that only God can create.

     The festive dress and the respect shown by the elders, the songs and the praise of the young people and the choir. the rows of nuns earnestly praying together. This was a Mass and I felt so strong in my Faith and such a kinship with the people of Gulu. Father Boyle tells a story where after listening to the story of redemption from one of the Homies, the flight attendant breaks down and cries. The youn man is confused and sorry that he made the flight attendant cry. Father Boyle reassures the young man by saying that is okay my son. "Some people cry when they see the face of God." ........