Math Contest

As a student, one of the highlights of my junior high experience, was competing in math contests. Okay, I realize I could be a bit nerdy in admitting this… However, there was something about traveling to another place and sitting in a room with 100 or so other like-minded students. There was a feeling that math was interesting, that being interested in it was okay. Now, the teams I was on in junior high always got soundly trounced at these competitions, but usually that was beside the point. We answered the questions that we could, we realized there was a lot, many times a whole lot more to learn. And we had fun. We usually got treated to lunch someplace nice and the experience of feeling special. All very cool things whether you grow up in Belmont, NC or Bundibugyo, Uganda. Needless to say, we were delighted to send several members of our math club to compete, for the first time ever, in a national math competition. Four of our students qualified for the final round, to be held six hours away in the town of Mbarara. We were so proud that one of our MKs, Luke Myhre, was among the students selected to go. His father (also our team leader) volunteered to drive the group, so the boys along with their teacher piled in the car and off they went. The road from Bundibugyo to Mbarara is beautiful and passes through one of the major game parks in our country. On the way through, they even saw a small herd of elephants just off the road. The photo at the top is a group snap taken at a nearby resort overlooking the Savannah of this same game park. What a wonderful experience. We'll get the results of the competition in the next month, but regardless, we are as proud of these boys as we can be.

Our first students are back...

Today our first set of students has arrived back on campus. They are all gathered in the common area of the administration block of the school with their parents and guardians. The meeting has been going on for serveral hours already with lot's of comments from parents and teachers. This is a good chance for CSB to fill in any gaps that might have been left out or otherwise shaded in by our students. It is a time for parents to bring their questions or concerns and have them addressed. Afterwards, everyone will share a meal together... at this point in the day a pretty late lunch and then each student and parent will meet with a staff member and together sign a code of conduct. A lengthy process to be sure, but one that feels right. When I headed over to take a photo of the process, a former graduate was imploring the students to remember why they were at school and to encourage them to respect their teachers. Several teachers had already spoken and multiple parents had stood to convey their support of the school and confirm that the right decision was made to send the children home to "cool down." Please continue to keep praying for this process. This is the first of four such meetings with students and parents happening over the course of this next week.

Lighting the Frig

This is one of those scenes of domestic life for us. We have a small (bigger than a dorm frig, but shorter and thinner than a basic Sear's brand model) kerosene frig. Everytime we leave our house overnight or (riskier) for a few days we have to turn off the frig. Which means using all of the food in the frig and freezer. Usually this happens once every 7-10 weeks when we head to Kampala for shopping and re-stocking our supplies. Every few days we check the kerosene tank at the bottom of the frig and add kerosene as needed. Probably once a week some maintainace has to be done on the "candle," which requires pulling the tank out and cleaning the wick. Then re-lighting the whole thing, sliding it back under the frig and lining up the candle with the chimney so that somehow (through a series of tubes and chemical reactions) hot = cold. The kids love to watch the whole process. Obviously, I don't understand it all, I do know that when the rats hid successfully from us in the kitchen it is usually in the coils of tubes behind the frig. We don't dare take a swing when they are there, too similiar to being "on base" in a bizarre game of tag. Anyway, this is a photo from yesterday of lighting the frig. A daily snap of life in the midst of an otherwise hectic week.

Plan for re-opening

The board of governors met and decided to re-open school next Wednesday without a general parent's meeting. They and we feel that the best course of action will be to stagger the opening over a week long period. Each designated group of students will report on a different day with their parents. We will host individual and group conferences to explain the situation and allow everyone to express any concerns or reservations. Before re-admission each student and their parent or parents will need to sign a code of conduct. Hopefully, prior to these meetings we will have identified some of the ringleaders and will be able to discuss the situation and course of action with their parents.
Please continue to keep us in your prayers during this time. We need to be gracious yet firm. Supportive of our staff and committed to our students. A dynamic tension to be sure. As for us, we need a break. The events over the course of the last month have a cummulative effect. We will be leaving Bundibugyo this weekend to escape, re-charge and hopefully gain some much needed perspective, so that we can begin what is sure to be a very full week on Wednesday. Some of our staff are also feeling the same need, please pray for our collective times away.

Closing the doors...

This term we were able to open our new school infirmary full time. We hired two nurses to help ease the load and to begin providing on-sight medical care to our students. A wonderful step forward for the school and just in the nick of time as our student body grows. Again and again we see that running a school of 350 is more complicated than one of 60! We are thankful for our growth and the ability to serve so many of the kids from this place.
However, sometimes good things can bring unexpected consequences. In this case, the arrival of our nursing staff has meant that sick students are seen each morning. The nurse on duty makes the decision to either admit the student to a bed in the infirmary or send the student back to class. In the evening the nurse decides whether to send the student on to the local health center, call the parents or allow the student to return to the dorm. This has been very helpful in cutting back on the number of students cutting class as well as making sure our students are getting the health care they need. As a result we have been able to crack down on class attendance by locking the dormitories when classes are in session and keep a running list of sick students. All positive changes. But from our student’s point of view, their freedom is being limited and their rights violated. In response, they have begun to break the locks off of the dorms during the day. As tension has mounted, teachers are receiving threatening notes and random rocks are being thrown at staff housing at night.
This is a culture where student riots at schools are common and a very typical way of dealing with unresolved conflict. In fact in the last few weeks, two boarding schools on the other side of the mountains have rioted. In one case the headmaster’s car was torched, in the other the headmaster was found alone and beaten to the point of being hospitalized. While we do feel somewhat protected by our “other” status, our teachers feel very vulnerable to this type of violent attack. Who can blame them? We are not that many generations removed from serious tribal conflict.
On Monday the situation continued to escalate and we began to have serious thoughts about closing the school to avoid an all out riot. Kevin began talking to our oldest students. The ones who are months away from the national A-level exams, which determine their entire future. These students have the most at stake and the potential to exert the most positive leadership. He met with them as a class, listening to their complaints, explained the administration’s concerns and implored them to think carefully about consequences and pro-active leadership. At the end of the afternoon, things were still feeling tense but potentially diffused. Unfortunately, later that night, under cover of darkness a group of students staged a riot in front of the staff housing. Rock after rock was thrown on the roof and at the windows of the staff house for more than two hours. Needless to say, our staff was pretty traumatized and fearful of what the next day and night would bring.
So on Tuesday, the whole school shut down for meetings. The students met as classes, the whole school had an assembly, the servant’s council met with the administration, the leadership team met, the staff met as a whole. Lot’s of tension was aired, lots of listening, lot’s of conversation. We were hopeful that this would lead to some cooling down, some resolution and the aversion of a student rampage. By 4:00, our students had posted lists of demands that required immediate action. They basically were in favor of no rules to limit their behavior, and no consequences for bad behavior. They were asking for the dismissal of two teachers and the unlimited use of dorms during the day at their discretion. There would be no peace until these demands were met.
With great sadness Kevin called the police and had guards posted while he called an all school assembly to dismiss the students and close the school until further notice. This was potentially the most serious time for conflict. Just before the assembly Kevin found a student carrying a broken off bench leg with a nail sticking out of the top. I don’t want to even think about the implications of that being used as a weapon.
Even now, the board of governors is in an emergency session to discuss the situation and to advise us on a way forward. In all likelihood we will call a parent’s meeting in the next few days to discuss all that has happened and to have an open forum to hear complaints, advice and talk through the next steps for re-opening the school.We are hopeful that things will cool down to the point of bringing the students back in the next two weeks. However, nothing seems to be given. We need prayer for our staff and for our students. We have been pushing our staff to be more available to our students. To care for them outside the classroom. To invest in their lives beyond academics. Will our staff be able to put aside the memories and bad feelings of the last few days and again serve these children? Will our students accept school rules and consequences or will they decide that this is too much for their pride? Will many of our good students speak out or will they remain passive? Will the middle hundred or so kids follow the ringleaders or refuse to participate in the mob mentality? Can there be reconciliation in a real way?
While the whole process is scary, sad and full of the unknown, we do feel glimmers of hope. Not through our ability to control the situation. We can’t even begin to try. Yet, this is the real education for our students. How will they solve conflict? Will they use peacemaking skills? Will they look beyond themselves and their pride to realize a greater good? Will they exert positive leadership or remain passive? None of these things are easy, and for most of our students these are all very counter-cultural. Please pray for us this week.

Let's go to the Mall

On Saturday, Louisa wanted to go look for some clothes. Wow, I thought, I sure could use a trip to the mall. Other than gardening, shopping has always been a stress reducer. Unfortunately, the nearest mall is a day's drive away. But being Saturday, our local market was in full swing not 500 yards from our front door. I grabbed my market bag, some Ugandan shillings, a hat and my oldest daughter's hand and off we went.
It was a beautiful day. The sun was out and crowds of folks were walking up and down the road. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, happy to either be going to or coming from the market. We started at the clothing area. Basically all the clothes that aren't sold by the Goodwills of the world make their way here. The styles are a bit out of date (but so are our concepts of fashion in this remote corner!), the size and color selection is hit and miss, but the price is cheap and the thrill of the hunt is intense. Louisa and I sort through pile after pile of clothes heaped on tarps along the road. Different vendors pitch their clothes and prices in a non-stop stream of Lubwisi as we look for anything in a children's size 7/8. It feels a small bit like a bizarre combination of a yardsale and a department store. Lot's of small children brush against us and comment on Louisa's hair. Which is striking I admit. We dyed it red a few weeks ago and being naturally blond, it was REALLY red. Now it is an attractive strawberry blond, but still shocking. We lucked up and found a few long sleeved shirts (you can't be too picky) in great condition from Old Navy and Gap that are Christmas themed. Louisa was delighted and you can be sure this November and December she will be very appropriately festive. After 45 minutes in the sun at midday, we were both starting to wilt, so we headed to the "food court." With serious effort I banish an assortment of US images from my mind and concentrate on picking out several nice ears of roasted corn. An older woman smiles and takes my money (about 20 cents for three) as Louisa squeals with delight. This is her favorite snack and is not always available. Then we walk across the way to Iddi's shop. A permanent structure constructed of wood, with cement floors and packed solid with various food supplies and sometimes cold water. "I don't care if it is cold, Mom, whatever he has is fine." We both sit on the steps with about 50 other people and take a long drink. Louisa comments on the cool breeze floating past and we stop to gaze around at the hundreds of people in front of us shopping, selling, talking, flirting...
Then off we head to buy some beans. I have recently started to make these really yummy bean burgers and sometimes there is a woman from Congo who sells black beans. She doesn't seem to be there though, so we settle for some yellow soybeans. Probably there are 50 women settled on tarps in an area the size of a basketball court. Tomatoes, onions, pineapples, eggplants, beans, bananas, rice, potatoes, and green oranges are all sorted into neat piles or heaps and laid out on faded white tarps. Running through the makeshift aisles is a green slimy pool of stagnant water. It has been raining a lot lately and evidently this bit hasn't yet drained. Proactively, I look away and try not to concentrate on the cess pool like nature of this, our "grocery store." Instead, I see four perfect purple young eggplants and think about the yummy dip I could make with pita bread this week. I see onions that are as big as my fist, instead of the usual quarter shaped ones and bend down to select several heaps. Louisa and I discuss whether we should buy a cabbage, decide not and then we begin to head home. Most people are barefoot, which is an advantage when the market is so muddy. We carefully pick our way from solid ground to solid ground, squeezed against numerous people headed in the same direction. No personal space to speak of, yet somehow comforting... if we slip lot's of people will catch us. At the edge of the market I stop her and ask, "If we got lost, can you find your way home?" "Sure," she says. "We just go through the cassava flour place to the side road, then go to the big road and turn left. At the big mango tree is our school gate." As she turns to lead the way, an AK47 bumps against her leg. Two police-men push past with their guns swinging at their sides, casually walking through to the road also. I take a deep breath. She doesn't even notice. "Can I run ahead?" she asks. "Humph, not just yet." I reach for her hand and together we walk to the main road. As we come in the gate to Christ School, she dashes across the field to our house. The sun shines brightly, 20 or more kids are playing ultimate frisbee and my beautiful daughter is racing home to her daddy. Different from a similar trip in my parallel universe back in America, but no less exciting.

Club night

One of the fun things about establishing Christ School here in Bundibugyo, has been the dual focus. We are committed to providing a solid education to the children here. One that enables them to move successfully through the Ugandan school system. We love when our kids do well on their O and A level exams. We are so proud of them as they leap over the hurdles in their lives and excel academically. We are delighted when new horizons open up for them, through entrance to university, teacher's college or nursing school. What fun, what a feeling of a job well done. But then we also have our secret agenda, one a bit more subversive. We want our students to be able to think. Not just to memorize answers and spit them out correctly on exams. We want our students to think critically about their environment, families, clans, communities, lives. We want them to explore solutions to problems in a creative way that is life-giving and unexpected. We want them to be image bearers of a creative, redemptive, loving God who gets personally involved in all that is seen and heard. In a culture that prizes lecture and note-taking, we are making slow progress in areas of dynamic, hands-on, practical learning in the classroom. As with my cleaning aka Fly lady style, we take slow consistent baby steps each term. But the introduction of clubs gives us a different chance. Every Friday night, for two hours, our students go to clubs. These are each co-lead by two staff members in an area of general interest. The students and our teachers are not very focused on memorizing for the exam, as there is none. It is a time solely for exploration, creativity and enjoyment. Our staff get involved in our students lives in an informal way as they all strive to have the best club at school. We started the program last year (a bit rocky) but this year, most of the kinks have been sorted through and it is fun to watch.
The clubs are:
Math (you knew this one had to be there! In two weeks 4 of our students have qualified to compete in the second level of a national math competition. )
Scouting (we have a Ugandan teacher who is an eagle scout!)
Agriculture
Science
Story-Telling
Prayer and Praise
Straight Talk
Music and Dance
Strategy Games
Lovers of Literature
Newspaper/Journalism
Office Practice
Appropriate Technology
Arts and Crafts

Next Friday, I'll to move around and get some photos. It is exciting to watch and dream....

Summer Interns Arrive!

Wahoo! The interns are here! For several months we think about and pray for these young men and women from the US. They come for 6-8 weeks during the summer months to live here and learn first hand about life on the mission field. Whether they plug into our ministry at CSB or the other various ministries of our team, they always breathe a burst of fresh air and excitement into what we do. This year we have a fun and talented group… a chemistry teacher, TV/film guy, a Christian counselor, a nurse (the daughter of one of the first missionary families in BGO), and a pre-med student. Bethany, a beloved former teammate and MK teacher has taken on running the internship program for our Mission back in Philadelphia while she attends seminary. Fortunately for all of us here in BGO, she has also graciously agreed for the second year, to return “home” and lead our internship program here this summer (one of several summer internship programs that World Harvest offers). In addition, Josh has returned! A team favorite (he spent more than five months with us as an extended intern this year) and all around great guy, he is continuing to provide expertise as a water engineer and general go-to guy. For the last 3 days, Nate has been screaming “Go see plane, me… JOSH!”

Please rejoice with us as our team expands to embrace these dear friends old and new. Pray that we would share our hearts and lives in this remote corner of the world. That we would be real with each other, willing to take risks together. Summer is always wild and crazy, full of memories and stories as we experience together the joy and sacrifice of serving God in Bundibugyo.

Maggots

GROSS. I have become adjusted to all sorts of gross and unhygienic living standards during my time in BGO, but yesterday was off the chart.
First let me just digress and say that I am a big fan of the FlyLady. Karen handed me her book on Kitchen Sinks sometime last year and since then I have been dedicated to a more systematic baby step approach to maintaining order and aesthetic peace in our home. Bugs and lizards still abound, but the clutter is slowly decreasing and at least I have a game plan for tackling the hurricane that my four children can bring to our living space on a daily basis.
So there I am, yesterday doing my fifteen minutes of cleaning in Zone 1 (the entry way) which for us includes about four feet of space as you come in the front door. Which also happens to be the landing space for all kinds of things that should be elsewhere… assorted shoes, bike helmets, school books, a random bag of dog food, and two as of yet unpacked trunks from our last supply trip to Kampala. I have out my duster to swipe away the never ending pesky cobwebs that seem to multiple as soon as my attention is elsewhere and am trying to decide whether it is time for a “27 fling boogie” (where you toss or give away 27 items you no longer need or use). Hmmmm, with four children we have a growing abundance of shoes we have outgrown and could be given away to neighbors whose kids would be delighted. As I mentally sort through which shoes are definitely not needed anymore, I notice a small white wiggly thing out of the corner of my eye. A little larger than an ant, this segmented, worm-like thing is crawling out from under a faded red mary jane shoe that Nate loves but which is too small. That looks a bit like a maggot, I think. But surely not. As I suspiciously lift up item after item and find more of the white wiggling worms, I feel panic start to set in. Clearly these are maggots, and clearly not just one or two but dozens are all over my floor. My whole body starts to do this gross out shaky dance. Fortunately, my children are still completely fascinated by all sorts of random National Geographic/ Marvelous Creatures experiences so they swarm to my rescue with brooms and dustpans. Louisa brings a small plastic container and begins picking them up one by one, until she has an entire wiggling mass. “This is like SCIENCE class!” she yells with delight. “Look how they have different segments, almost no head part and…” Sigh. “BUGGIE” screams the twins as they stomp around on the cement floor giggling together. Joe, sensing my “on the edgeness,” sweeps vigorously out the open door, muttering to himself. Finally he looks at me and says in hushed tones, “You think we are about to find something really nasty and dead?” After another gross out dance, he and I start searching for the source. 20 minutes later, the last of the maggots are outside, the floor is cleaned, disinfected, sprayed with Doom, everything put away and we still haven’t found where the maggots are coming from. I am still feeling creepy, like I need to scour my whole body with hot water and industrial soap. Kevin comes home at about this point to four children all eager to relay their version of the latest bug infestation. He gets that thoughtful look that I love so, glances up at the ceiling and says “I think the dead thing is up there.” A hush falls over the room. I repress the need for a third round of dancing as we all stare up at the thin plywood that separates us from the attic and all manner of creepy crawly often loud scurrying things. EWWWWW. To test his theory, Kev walks into the kitchen and comes back with a shiny blue basin and places it directly under the light bulb socket. I think of leaky roofs and rainstorms. After a good five minutes we hear, “plop.” Three little maggots have dropped from the tiny space between the plastic light bulb fixture and the ceiling. At this point, I give yet another sigh, realize the implications of living in BGO, hug my wonderful, helpful children and head out the door to the airstrip to welcome the arrival of our summer interns.

Louisa: Beautiful, Healthy, Happy.

Thank you so much for your prayers for our little girl.