Hope

It's unbelievable how beautiful the children are here.

It's equally unbelievable how poor this country is.

We recently traveled to the northern sections of the country...up into Kitgum and Gulu, two of the hardest hit areas of the infamous Joseph Kony and his Lord's Resistance Army.

I can't really tell you how many villages, trade centers and districts are between here and there. Sometimes you're not certain you've left one and entered the next except that you see kids...hundreds of kids...in brightly colored school uniforms; and each village, district and trade center wear different colors.

It's an awesome site, for lots of reasons. First, the kids seem so happy. They're walking along all holding hands and talking animatedly. When they see us drive by, they all stop walking and begin waving and shouting, "hello mzungu...goodbye mzungu." The colors of their shirts and shorts are all strikingly bright and "happy!" If you get close though, you'll see how tattered they are. Kids will maybe have two uniforms for the school year, and they WILL be handed down the following year...many only have one.

But also, it's a sight we love because it means these children are going to school! Wipe out the school building, curriculum, books, teachers, etc., picture you have in your mind. It's very different here.

If there's actually a school "building" in the different villages it will be a mud building with no roof, or a leanto with a tin roof; sometimes it's a brick building that does look a bit like a school building as we know them, but will have no windows. Mostly, school out in the bush is under a mango tree.

Not all kids go to school though. School fees are typically more than most parents make in a whole year. While the country requires parents to send all children to school, some simply cannot afford it (and are at risk of being jailed) nor can Uganda enforce it. Ask why. Go ahead.

No one really knows how many kids are here...up until recently, there haven't been birth certificates, or any record of births! When we talked to former abductees of the LRA, young adults who were abducted and forced to serve in the army as young children, not one of them could tell us for certain how old they are now, or how old they were when they were abducted. They all sort of estimate their age. They simply don't know. They don't have "birthdays." Talk about being lost in the shuffle. Is it any wonder child sacrifices are so prominent here? Who knows the child existed in the first place? That's another whole story though.

While most children love attending school and see it as their way out of the poverty, there are just as many that don't have the opportunity. Their families think they need them more at home doing chores than their children need school. Life is hard in the bush. Really hard.

Those are the other kids you see on the side of road on your way to anywhere Uganda. There is water to be fetched from a borehole or river far away; there's firewood to find and cut, though in most areas the forests are depleted; there are cows to get to pasture (if a family is fortunate enough to have a cow or two,) clothes to wash (I think it's hard to do our laundry in the sink; imagine a washboard down by the river); there are younger siblings to care for.

For many kilometers as we were traveling north, the countryside was a beautiful, lush green. As I watched it change to a deep orange, I thought we had suddenly come to an area where there had been a fire, or everything was dead. But in looking closer, I realized everything was coated with a thick layer of clay colored dust. It stayed that way all the way into Kitgum. Breathing actually becomes difficult because of the thick dust.

I will never cease to be amazed at the women walking along the road carrying the most amazing things atop their heads; bananas, matooke, piles of laundry, baskets of vegetables, bundles of firewood, while at the same time balancing two jerry cans filled with water...and did I mention the baby on their backs? They make it look so easy! You often see young girls practicing this talent, so apparently it's not a skill you're born with...it takes a good deal of practice. It reminds me of my early schooldays when I was trying to learn to balance a book on my head to teach me good posture...I couldn't even do that!

These filled jerry cans weigh 45 pounds each! I was able to pick them up, sort of. Taking a step with them was another story...and if I had things on top of my head and a baby on my back, I would have to stop walking and pull out my cell phone begging Mike to come pick me up in the car. Not an option these ladies have. Life is hard in the village. Very hard.

Education, quality education equals hope here. But there are a lot of things wrong with the education system. Ask any teacher or administrator. Teachers have long hours and large classes (sometimes 200 students with one teacher and an aid), few resources, no books, little pay. Teachers make about about 200,000 shillings a month which is about $105 USD. Take out their "taxes" which is about 10% (no one knows what the tax is for or how it's spent) and figure in the cost of living (which is surprisingly high here) and they're in the hole a good 400,000 shillings per month. And these are the fortunate ones that were able to make it through Senior 6 and graduated from a "teachers college." Sigh. Sometimes it's overwhelming to even think about. Imagine if you were living it!

Tomorrow I'll share some stories from The IDP Camps (Internally Displaced People's Camps) we went into. Devastating. But let me leave you with, there IS hope on this continent. People want to believe that. And people like YOU who are reading this and supporting this ministry or others in Africa are helping to spread that hope. We've been so blessed to spread that hope in concrete ways to so many because of YOU! Thank you!