First days in Mbale, Uganda

Week two in Uganda and things are getting a bit more comfortable.  Routine is coming together, work is under control.  The first few days were especially tough.  And I’m still learning, still figuring things out.  But I know how to walk into town, I know names of staff at the hospital, I know that wi-fi is terrible.  It’s almost like Malawi on steroids.  Although Mbale is incredibly small, the center of town is very congested and everyone is competing for another foot of space. 

The hospital is an amazing place.  Lots of adorable big head babies.  Most of the cases that CURE Uganda treats are hydrocephalus and spina bifida.  Most patients that I've covered have been under 2 years.  But the moms are lovely.  But staying in the CURE family, I knew not to worry about the job.  All of the hospitals and staff are special places & people.

I’m living with a neurosurgeon in a guest house across the street from CURE. It takes 10 minutes to walk into town.  There are two decent grocery stores and lots of other small shops.  Selection is a bit better than Malawi on lots of items but not so much on other items.  It doesn’t make much of a difference for me.  I eat pasta, fruits, bread, sandwiches and lots of rice/beans.  I’ve heard there is a decent Indian restaurant in town but haven’t checked it out.  I also heard that a new coffee shop opened up in town last week.  I will check out restaurants once I figure out transport at night.  I don’t plan on walking at night and I get an extra hour of daylight here (7pm).  The weather is simply amazing.  70 degrees.  Rain in the afternoon.  I came right at the start of rainy season and despite a hot few days to start, it has cooled off at night. 

The expat population is really small here (25 people).  But I’ve met a few people and there is a small social circle.  I hope to meet some people that are here long-term.  The hospital director and his wife have been really loving and helping me out lots.  I am thankful for the first couple of weeks and glad that Uganda was on the table when I decided to leave Malawi. 

Random things...

My tattoos were the focus in the operating theater this week (scrubs are the only time they’re exposed since I only wear long-sleeves in the hospital), when asked if they are permanent, I replied “yes, forever.”  But I decided to tell the guys that some people do seek to remove them with laser treatment.  The next question was, “when do you plan on removing?” 

Two of my neighbors are 5 year old boys.  They stay in the same compound so they greet me at the gate everyday.  Then follow me inside the house and wreak havoc on everything until I throw them out. 

I’m running again and started Insanity.  It’s been 6+ weeks since my surgery.  There isn’t a nice, accessible gym here.  I am having dumbbells made by a welder in town at a garage.  

I still love coffee and I know without a doubt it’s the reason that I’ve survived so long here.  There is coffee being grown just 10 miles from the house that is unreal. 

Dust storms will ruin your day, quickly. 

I’m completely convinced crows never die. 

Rafting the Nile is definitely happening this year.  Sleeping with gorillas in the rainforest is on the list.  I have decided to travel and see more in Uganda than I did in Malawi. 

 

No one said this would be easy.

Once again, I'm scheduled to leave Malawi.  This time with no date for return.  This time, the goodbyes are final for lots of friends.  This time, there is no way of knowing if I'll be back.  I tell people that I will at some point, maybe this year, maybe again in 5 years.  I'm not sure, but I would like to visit again someday.  It feels like home.  I feel more attached to things here than I do at home, right now.  I feel more comfortable here than I do anywhere else right now.  I will fly out tomorrow for Uganda, unsure what the next year holds for me.

The last month has been incredible.  When I first woke up in a hospital bed, I immediately thought about how much longer it would be before traveling to Uganda.  I was prepared to go, mentally and emotionally.  But then it hit me.  I am incredibly lucky to be alive.  I am incredibly lucky to be able to spend another month in Malawi.  I am incredibly lucky to have downtime to focus and reflect.  So that's what I did.  I journaled, I read a couple books.  I prayed.  I remembered why I'm here in the first place.  When everything else falls apart, the gospel remains.  When you can't make sense of your life, the gospel still holds true.  When you feel abandoned, confused, worthless, stagnant, trapped, hopeless.  The gospel doesn't lose strength or power.  It isn't affected.  In fact, it's amplified.  It's light is brighter. 

[when our circumstances are the darkest, the light of our hope in God shines the brightest - "Gospel" JD Greear]

If there's one lesson that I'm constantly learning and being reminded - it's that every life is worth it.  Every life is a contribution.  In a country with tremendous distance between social classes, feelings of inferiority radiate from guardians, villagers and beggars.  We are not to disregard the lame or meek, yet we do.  I see it everyday.  I feel guilty.  I feel sadness.  I know that I want to love people, all people.  Everyone is worth it.  Not having money or a job or an education doesn't discount the worth of a person in God's eyes.  I want to see them through gospel lens.  I want to see them as a child of God, worthy of time, encouragement and sacrifice.  It's where I feel most vulnerable and uncomfortable.  When I don't know how to help or what to say.  But it's also there that I feel God.  I feel his presence.  When I get someone to smile that has been cursed at, overlooked and ignored all day.  When I treat people like people.  With respect.  And dignity.  We're all fallen, we all need grace.  We are in the same boat.  We could at least try to connect.   

Some lessons are easy.  Some take a lifetime.  I'm thankful.  For my extended time in Malawi.  For an opportunity to continue serving with CURE.  For the many friendships that will be formed in Uganda.  For the struggles, challenges, celebrations, adventures and rewards that lie ahead.  

Every life is worth it.