I never liked littering before...

So it finally happened. Most people in East Africa get between major cities by bus, great big huge buses that are notoriously dangerous. The take up most of the road and don't give way to oncoming traffic. They leave their high-beams on at night. They drive between 65 and 75 miles per hour on narrow roads with pedestrians and bicyclists on the shoulder. They get in accidents all the time, hitting hippos and rolling over, etc.

The bus stops only rarely for passenger pick-up and drop-off. When they stop in a trading center, they are generally swarmed by folks trying hard to make an honest living, holding up roasted corn, cassava, or meat to the windows, selling oranges, cashews, and plastic bottles of water and Coca-Cola. In the miles leading towards every trading center with these vendors the roadside is littered with garbage. What do you do after you eat your meat-on-a-stick? Throw the stick out the window. Done with your orange? Out the window. Finished your Coke? Bottle out the window. In all our months of driving in East Africa I've seen things fly out of bus windows over and over again and every time I think to myself

1. Totally lame. Littering is very not cool.
2. Someone on the side of the road is going to get hit by litter from a bus. Also totally lame.

Well, after leaving language school in Morogoro we began our two-day drive back to Kenya. Day one was wonderfully uneventful except for the speed traps and police checkpoints. Fortunately, we were giving a ride to a friend's mother and respect for the elderly seemed to help when the police stopped us for "casual conversation."

~ Took a Piece of Litter at High Speed ~ Day two. Forty-five minutes after hitting the road I'm passing a bus coming the other direction. So I'm going about 60 miles per hour and per usual he's going around 70. Out of the window comes flying a black plastic bag of something. At speed it's highly dangerous to swerve especially on our off-road tires and there's no shoulder anyway - I'd swerve directly into a ditch if I tried. Hitting the brakes may or may not help - I can't tell if this litter is falling fast or slow. Well, this litter apparently contained something quite hard, maybe a half-full bottle of Coke, maybe a brick, who knows. But it hit us square in the windscreen, directly in front of my face, shattering the windshield and showering me with little bits of glass. Fortunately, the windscreen held. The next large town was 45 minutes away so with little choice I leaned way over so I could see where the cracks weren't so close together and we cautiously continued on our way.

We passed almost ten police checkpoints in that short 45-minute drive, but not a single one stopped us even though we were obviously driving an unsafe vehicle. Krista pointed out that they might have been thinking "Sheesh, if that guy can't even fix his windshield he's not going to have any money to bribe me!"  Possibly. Finally in Arusha, then, we stopped at a very Western-style coffee shop and decompressed a little bit. Krista and Josiah stayed there while I set off to try and replace a windscreen at 10am on a Sunday morning - we still wanted to reach Nairobi that day. With Krista's cell phone dead and several people advising me not to leave my vehicle unattended in the "auto parts" section of town, I wasn't even able to let her know where I was or how long it was going to take. Finally around 2pm I was given the green light from the installer to go ahead and leave with my new windscreen taped into place while the caulk dried. Back to the coffeeshop for my lunch and by 3pm we were back on the road, continuing to Kenya.

We had perhaps our fastest border crossing ever, less than 45 minutes, and safely arrived at Claude and Rhoda's home in Nairobi around 8pm. It was a long and frustrating day but we're glad to be back in Nairobi for one week before continuing on to the good ol' United States of America.  -Shauen

July-August Field Notes Released

Field Notes for the combined months of July/August has been published. This issue of Field Notes included the following articles:

• Swahili Proverbs and Trump Proverbs
• Josiah - 8 Months and Still Cute
• Furlough in Focus: Home-Leave Schedule

Our prayer requests this month include:

• For good morale & energy our last 2 weeks of Swahili school
• For energy and efficiency as we finalize our home-service commitments, travel plans, and schedule
• For safety on the long trip back to Nairobi and then on to Seattle to begin home-service
• That Josiah will begin to sleep through the night (pray extra hard for this one, please)
• For Shauen’s ordination in Tacoma, WA on Sept 26th

And we praise the Lord:

• For safe journeys to Mombasa and Zanzibar
• For the opportunity to learn Swahili here in Morogoro
• For Josiah’s 3rd tooth (also on the bottom)
• For a full home-service schedule

If you haven't seen it yet, download Field Notes for July/Aug 2010 (579K in PDF format) from thetrumps.org now!



I feel sorry for our tutors

~ A typical day in Swahili school ~ A little background... The Swahili word swali means question. Swala means gazelle. Can you see where this is going?

This morning, as I opened up my homework from the previous night, I said to our tutor, "I have a gazelle." To which our tutor replied, "Truly? Where?" as he looked about pretending to search for it. Hmph. Maybe I MEANT to say, "I have a gazelle." Did you think of that? Huh?

-Shauen

Baba Josiah

~ Baby Josiah and Baba Josiah ~ In East Africa a person's title is important. Frequently, you are addressed by your title, just as in the States you use the titles of Pastor, Professor, Doctor, etc. Some people here on campus at the language school call me Mchungaji, which means Pastor. It doesn't quite roll of the tongue for us native English speakers, but I like hearing it - it's quite humbling.

One joy that I hadn't discovered until now is the title attained when the first child is born. Although some people call me Mchungaji, far more call me Baba Josiah - "Josiah's Father." Apparently this title will stick with me the rest of my life although as more children come you can take the name of any of them after "Baba." The cultural revelations in this custom are beyond me just now but what I am sure of is that I feel good when I hear it. Is it a great swell of love? pride? hope? I dunno. I just feel good about our family and our baby when I hear someone call me Baba Josiah. So keep on being your adorable self, Baby Josiah. Baba Josiah loves you a whole bunch.

-Shauen

Now you tell me I can wear shorts?

Back in Uganda, men did not wear shorts unless they were working in the field or washing cars or something like that. Shorts were for schoolboys, laborers at work, or tourists. Men, especially professional men, would never be seen in shorts.  I became so accustomed to wearing slacks that Krista would chide me at home when I'd complain about the heat - I would forget that I could just put on shorts in the privacy of our apartment and be much more comfortable! But only after our housekeeper had gone home for the day - I wasn't comfortable wearing shorts in front of her.  I became so accustomed to slacks that even when we returned to the States for Krista's sister's wedding I was still uncomfortable in shorts! It was August in Wisconsin and I assure you, everyone was wearing shorts except me. I just felt exposed in those shorts!

But Tanzania has proven to be unlike Uganda in a few important ways. Every Wednesday afternoon here at language school we spend some time in a cultural orientation lesson. Today, after almost two months here in Tanzania, I find out that it is socially acceptable for men to wear shorts. I've been here almost TWO MONTHS and I'm a big sweaty white guy faithfully wearing slacks every day and no one thought to mention it to me! I even mumbled a bit under my breath at the scandalous sight of the language school director wearing shorts as he passed our place one evening. Now, of course, I understand. Sigh. Glad I brought a few pairs. Now if I can just get over that feeling of being exposed when I wear them!

-Shauen

The Swahili People Say

"Mtaka yote hukosa yote"

which loosely means

"The one who wants everything loses everything"

-Shauen

The Swahili People Say

"Msema kweli hakosi"

which loosely means

"The one who tells the truth does not get fouled up in his own lies"

-Shauen

Why Does Rabbit Have a Short Tail?

Like many African cultures, the Swahili culture teaches through story. Our language tutor told us this story in a mixture of English and Swahili. I've tried to keep it as close to the East African English as I can. -Shauen

"Baba," said the boy, "why does Rabbit have a short tail?"

Baba answered:

One day the animals in the bush saw that there was no water. King Elephant called all the animals together and asked, "What should we do?" One of the animals suggested they dig a well. All of the animals agreed that they would bring their tools the next day and they would dig a well. The next day all of the animals came and dug - all except Rabbit. They dug and dug and they made a very fine well, with good, clean, cool water. They all drank water and washed and were happy that the water was good.

That night, after all the animals had gone to bed, Rabbit came to see what they had done. When he saw that they had dug a good well, he wanted to drink and wash. Rabbit drank until he couldn't drink any more. And he splashed and he swam in the well until he was tired. Then he went back home.

In the morning, the animals came and saw that their well was dirty! "How did this happen?" they asked. After they had cleaned up the well, King Elephant asked for a volunteer to stand watch the next night and see what was happening. Monkey volunteered. So when the animals had all gone to bed, Monkey stayed awake, leaning against the base of a tree and keeping watch.

After dark, Rabbit came along and called out "Hello, hello, hello, hello!" Monkey replied, "Hello, Rabbit. How are you?" "Oh, I am so fine, thank you. How is your family?" "My family is good, thank you," said Monkey. Rabbit said to Monkey, "Monkey, your hair is so long and nice. Let me braid it for you." Monkey agreed that it would be very nice to have good braids in his hair. So Rabbit came behind Monkey and swoop-swoop very quickly tied Monkey's hair in a knot behind the tree! Monkey could not reach around to undo the knot and even to move pained him. Meanwhile, Rabbit enjoyed himself at the well again, splashing and swimming in the water. After he was tired, Rabbit went home.

The next morning the animals came to the well and saw Monkey tied to the tree. Monkey explained what happened. All of the animals were very mad but they knew they would not be able to catch Rabbit in his home. So King Elephant asked who would keep watch the next night to stop Rabbit. Tortoise volunteered, "I will keep watch."

That evening, as the other animals were going home, Tortoise took his big machete, went to the  well, and pulled himself inside his shell to wait. After dark, Rabbit came again to the well, "Hello, hello, hello, hello!" But there was no reply. Rabbit was suspicious and he called again, "Hello, hello, hello!" Still, there was no reply. Rabbit looked around here and there to see if anyone was guarding the well. He didn't see anyone at all, but still he was suspicious. So Rabbit went to sit on top of the large rock beside of the well and wait a few minutes to see if anyone would come. Rabbit's long fluffy tail hung over the side of the rock.

Tortoise knew that Rabit had sat on top of him. He could see that Rabbit's tail hung there. Very slowly, he pulled his machete out of his pocket and swoop - he cut off Rabbit's long tail!

That is why Rabbit has a short tail.

What is the lesson of the story? Everyone should work.

Don't ask me why the other rabbits have short tails - I don't know.

An Indirect Approach

The people of East Africa are indirect.

In the village lived a wealthy man. One day a neighbor suffered a loss - one of his family died. All of the villagers came to be with the neighbor, some bringing gifts of money, some bringing gifts of food, all of them there with the grieving neighbor, ensuring that he would not grieve alone. But the wealthy man, he came, dropped off some money, and left. Later, another neighbor suffered a loss. Again, the people of the village came together with the grieving family. And again, the wealthy man came, gave money, and quickly left. This happened many times over the years. One day, the wealthy man suffered a loss in his own family. As he mourned and grieved, the villagers heard of the death. Each villager came, handed the man some small money as they were able, and left. As evening fell, the man was alone in his grief. And the wealthy man realized he had behaved badly to his neighbors.

East Africans will very rarely say anything negative to you directly - even in matters where you are behaving wrongly or inappropriately. In this culture it is extremely important to never cause anyone to lose face, even when they have done something wrong. The relationship is more important, even if one side is long-suffering at the hand of the other. Direct conflicts that must be addressed are always addressed by a mediator who hears the complaint from one party and then approaches the other party. The mediator is the go-between, working to bring both parties to full reconciliation. Or, like in the story above, others quietly suffer with misbehavior, confident that someday the offender will see that they have done wrong.

Many visitors who come to East Africa on mission trips spend time with the local church to try and ensure that they are doing something the local church wants and needs. The visitors will approach that meeting as Americans do: quickly get your ideas out there, enjoy open debate, and vote at the end on the best approach.

Getting the idea out there:

In many East African cultures, to open your mouth first is to mark yourself a fool. Rather, the wise person in the meeting is the one who speaks last. He has listened and considered all the information and weighed the options from every angle.

Openly debate:

Open debate does not function the same way it does in America. To debate someone's idea in front of them would invariably cause them embarrassment as pros and cons are weighed. Rather, all ideas are put forth, expanded upon, and discussed. Only after an idea has been on the table for some time (and has become an idea on its own, apart from the person who first voiced it) can something negative be said about that idea. More likely, nothing negative will be said directly, but group members will have realized on their own what the weaknesses are and that one of the other options is better. The statement abandoning the bad idea would not even mark it as a bad idea, but could take the form, "I think it is better to do..."

Voting:

Decisions are not reached by vote as Americans think of it but are arrived at by consensus - which can take considerable time. Through discussion and deliberation and even times of silence, the group will come to a consensus on what is best and how to proceed. Only then will the group leader (if there is one) voice the final decision as a summary. All parties have bought in over the course of the discussion.

Unless a visitor is aware of these cultural nuances, they will come out of every meeting saying "It was great - they loved all of our ideas!" And the local church will not speak counter to that assertion, just as they didn't speak counter to any idea brought forward in the meeting. In fact, the local church will likely never tell a visitor "No." They would rather endure years or even decades of bad ideas and poor or counter-productive work than say anything that might offend the guest.

When coming (or returning) to work in East Africa, remember the story of the wealthy man in the village whose neighbors suffered his offensive behavior in silence for years. And if someone tries to tell you a story, listen closely for the lesson behind it and ask yourself if it applies to you. Even better, make it a habit to always listen closely when functioning in another culture - remember, God gave us two ears but only one mouth. The indirect approach works extremely well here and local churches would be overjoyed for visitors to participate and work together with them in ways that honor and value this important attribute of the culture.

-Shauen

Unity is Strength

A story encountered today from chapter 27 of our Swahili textbook (as translated by Shauen):

An old man was near death. He called his two children and gave his last words to them. He said to them, "Bring that bundle of sticks." They brought it. He told his bigger child, "Break it." The child tried to break the bundle of sticks, but he was defeated. The smaller child tried to break it also. He was defeated.

The old man told them, "Untie that bundle, each one he should take one stick." Each child grasped one stick. The old man told them, "Okay, now break them." Each stick broke with ease. Their father told them, "My children, this is my matter: Unity is strength."

The Swahili People Say...

"Haraka haraka haina baraka"

which means

"Hurry and haste bring no blessings"

-Shauen

June Field Notes Released

Field Notes for the month of June has been published. This issue of Field Notes included the following articles:

• Swahili Language School - Tanzania
• Josiah - 6 Months Already!
• Invitation to Shauen's Ordination on September 26th, 2010
• Furlough in Focus: Home-Leave Schedule

Our prayer requests this month include:

• That we continue to have good health and good spirits to allow us to learn and absorb Swahili rapidly
• For safety on the long trip to cross the border and renew our temporary vehicle import
• That Josiah will begin to sleep through the night

And we praise the Lord:

• For our new truck, received hours before departing for Tanzania
• For the opportunity to learn Swahili here in Morogoro
• For affirmative responses from nearly everyone we’ve contacted about homeservice engagements

If you haven't seen it yet, download Field Notes for June 2010 (635K in PDF format) from thetrumps.org now!

A person is people

On the cover page of our language textbook appears the following:

"Mtu ni Watu" - "A person is people"

"A person is people" captures the essence of human relationships in East Africa. No one lives a solitary life. All are dependent on one another and only in community is a person fully human.

-Shauen

May Field Notes Published

Field Notes for the month of May has been published. This issue of Field Notes included the following articles:

• Transcultural Mission Formation Program
• A Little Culture Shock
• Our Faithful Truck Sells in Uganda
• Furlough in Focus: Home-Leave Schedule

Our prayer requests this month include:

• That we purchase and legally license a truck before departing for language school
• For a safe journey to Tanzania for Kiswahili Language School
• For Josiah’s first experience in a day-care while we’re in language classes
• For all of us as we’ve come home from Paraguay with sore throats and colds

And we praise the Lord:

• For an excellent experience at the Transcultural Mission Formation Program
• That our truck sold in Uganda
• That Josiah peacefully endured 27.5 hours of travel from Paraguay to Nairobi before melting down during the 1/2 hour taxi ride home from the airport

If you haven't seen it yet, download Field Notes for May 2010 (540K in PDF format) from thetrumps.org now!



Transcultural Mission Formation Program

~ Jorge Groh lectures on confessional identity & religious pluralism ~ Paraguay: A land-locked country in the center of South America, comparable in size to California. On its Eastern border, just across the river from Brazil and north of the border with Argentina lies Ciudad del Este, the City of the East. A typical border-town, prices list in a multitude of currencies, goods transit along busy roadways, and crime threatens the late-night trader returning to his seedy hotel. Casting a long shadow on the bustle of the streets, only the Hotel Panorama (far from seedy itself) boasts the capacity to host this international Lutheran Transcultural Mission Formation Program. With nearly four-score men, women, and children in attendance, this pilot program seeks to unite and form local pastors and select Lutheran missionaries from around the world.

Some have journeyed across 12 time zones to attend. Children inordinately suffer jet-lag in the first days of our time together while among the adults, fellowship and excitement rule.  Mornings begin (depending on your child) as early as 3am but hopefully at least as late as 6 when the hotel restaurant provides a welcome escape for one brave parent seeking to entertain a tired but fully awake child while the other parent steals a few more moments of welcome sleep. Morning worship starts at 8:30 with the reflections of one dedicated pastor guiding us through the Scripture. ~ Yerba mate, literally "cup herb," and thermos ~ Morning lectures after worship focus this week on God's Mission, known among theologians and academics by the impressive-sounding Missio Dei, but in real terms nothing more or less than God's complete and reckless abandon in His pursuit of His people's hearts. Breaks come and go with some seeking out new friends and others desperately trying to keep up with email and work from afar.

During lectures, yerba mate, herbal tea from a common cup, makes its way around each table.  In an ornate cup, gourd, or horn packed with this species of holly, steaming water occupies only a little space. Silver straws with a pierced bulb on the bottom filter the tea while drinking. Each tea drinker passes the cup back to the table host who pours a few more tablespoons of hot water in and passes the cup to the next partaker. The yerba mate keeps us awake and engaged through about 3 hours of lectures.

By 1 in the afternoon, the crowd descends from the 12th-floor conference center to the ground-floor restaurant, nearly overwhelming the eatery with numbers and noise. By 2 we stroll out the front door, children often in tow, for a few hours of rudimentary field-work. Tuesday we observe. Wednesday we engage. Through capable translators our group of eight seeks out Paraguayans willing to divulge those highly personal convictions about God, faith, and felt needs. In the street market we descend upon several women minding their stall from stools along the sidewalk. "Who is God," we ask. "How does your faith take expression in your daily life?" Although initially uncomfortable for us, these women happily engage us in a conversation about their own faith and circumstance.

Other groups experience the same willingness. ~ In the street market asking tough questions about faith ~ Together in the early evening we debrief our experiences from our 12th-floor perch high above the city. The sharing is deep, reflective, and hopeful. As the sun sets the large group cheerfully wishes each a good evening and gathers in newly forged or renewed friendships to make plans for dinner. Some go around the corner to the Brazilian steak house with unlimited meat selections while others pass up all-you-can-eat for the (believe-it-or-not) Pizza Hut.

Most fall into bed early, children exhausted and parents only barely less so. As for our family, Josiah (now 5 months old) falls asleep around 6:30pm, Krista goes up to our room at 9, and as soon as I finish this blog and my caipiriña (a local evening drink heavy on the lime and sugar) I'll be joining her. What joy we feel to be here, learning from capable and bright peers, engaging a new culture, and fellowshiping with brothers and sisters from around the world. A transcultural mission formation program indeed. -Shauen

Cinco de Mayo

~ Mike tells the story of Little Red Riding Hood ~ Kenya has more western stuff. A few days ago we were in the supermarket just up the street from our new home and were amazed at what we can get here that we couldn't get in Uganda. What really struck us was the availability of Mexican foods! So we decided to take advantage of the opportunity to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. We found 3 different kinds of tortillas, tortilla chips, and even sour cream in the grocery store - none of which were available in Uganda. Okay, that's not true. Things were available. For a price. At specialty stores. Once in a while. And we did pay a premium to enjoy a Mexican Night in Uganda about a year ago. But here in Kenya, western food, clothes, and restaurants are more plentiful (although still no McDonalds or American fast food restaurants). 

To celebrate our newfound access to Mexican foods we decided to throw a little Cinco de Mayo celebration. Dr. Michael Rodewald (my boss's boss, the Regional Director for Africa) was visiting Kenya and he, Rev. Claude Houge (my boss), and I were returning from a visit to Matongo Lutheran Theological College (the seminary). So Krista and Rhoda got everything together and worked all day to prepare for our meal. Krista made salsa from scratch, limeade concentrate (for the margaritas), and even flan! Rhoda prepared the meat and all the fixins for tacos and fajitas. When we arrived home I blended up the margaritas (which turned out a beautiful blue because we had to substitute Blue Curacao for Triple Sec), and we celebrated that wonderful Mexican Holiday from halfway around the world.

As dinner wound down we even cajoled Mike into telling us the story of Little Red Riding Hood as he used to tell it to the children in Liberia - in Liberian English. What a joy it is to laugh with friends in our new home.   -Shauen

April Field Notes Published

Field Notes for the month of April has been published. This issue of Field Notes included the following articles:

• LCMU's First Ministerial Conference
• Move to Kenya
• Goodbyes
• Furlough in Focus: Preliminary Home-Leave Schedule

Our prayer requests this month include:

• For a safe journey to the Trans-cultural Mission Formation Program in Paraguay
• For peace and some sense of stability as we spend the next 8 months in transition
• For the congregations who support us in prayers, encouragement, and financial support as we set our speaking schedule for furlough

And we praise the Lord:

• For a successful move to Kenya
• For an affordable solution to temporarily keep our truck in Kenya and Tanzania
• That Josiah seems to be such a great traveler
• For God’s work in Uganda
• For Shauen’s call to serve as Mission Facilitator in Kenya and Tanzania

If you haven't seen it yet, download Field Notes for April 2010 (627K in PDF format) from thetrumps.org now!



Arrived safely in Karen, Kenya!

~ the top floor WAS our 3-bedroom apartment in Kampala ~ All three of the Trumps have safely arrived in Karen, a suburb of Nairobi, Kenya, at our new home (well, it'll eventually be our new home).  Krista and Josiah came by plane on Tuesday with our co-worker in Uganda, Rev. Jacob Gillard who was coming to Nairobi for a Volunteer Coordinator workshop. He was a great help to Krista and Josiah - especially since we checked through extra baggage that was lightweight but bulky and would have taken up too much space in our LandCruiser. Josiah was completely indifferent to the journey. He slept part of the trip, nursed a little, and played some. If he travels this well on longer flights we will label him a perfect missionary kid!  Traffic in Kampala is so bad that my family arrived in Kenya before I even got back to the apartment after dropping them off at the airport!

Our apartment was almost empty. All of our furniture and major appliances had been purchased already (all of it was bought by one guy - he bought everything we were selling at the price we asked)! There was only a little bit of packing left for me to do and then it was time to load the truck. The rear seats fold forward and I filled the entire back of the truck, jam-packed. I had hoped to fit everything inside the truck with nothing on the rack on top to reduce the chances of being hassled by police along the way or by the revenue authority at the Kenyan border. But I was left with a collection of boxes and bags that just wouldn't fit into the truck. So I took a motorcycle-taxi to the store and bought a big tarp and some twine. Then up onto the roof I climbed and loaded the rest of our stuff. Finally, everything was packed, our housekeeper said one more tearful goodbye and set out with all the stuff we were giving to her, and I waited to check out of the apartment. Our scheduled time for checkout came and went. So I took a shower and changed my clothes to something more comfortable (and less sweaty) for the first part of my drive. And I continued waiting for someone to come check us out of the apartment. Finally, someone arrived and did the basic walk-through, checking all the doors and looking for any damage. He reported that everything was in order and promised that our two month's pre-paid rent and the deposit would all be refunded. One of our gardeners rode with me most of the way to my stopping point for the night, which was only a few hours of driving. I checked into a very nice hotel - with air conditioning - for $25 and enjoyed one of Uganda's traditional specialties, whole fried tilapia with french fries.  Krista and Josiah, meanwhile, had arrived in Kenya, went out to a wonderful lunch with our coworkers in Kenya, Rev. Claude and Rhoda Houge, and had already begun settling in to a small apartment at their home.

~ our fully packed LandCruiser ~ The next day I picked up David, who would ride with me all the way to Karen. David has spent time in both Kenya and Tanzania and is fluent in Kiswahili. He's also one of our top TEE students and should be sent on to seminary sometime in the next year. He's a young guy full of energy and also has a driving permit just in case the need should arise. So we set out at 7am from Iganga, Uganda and reached the border in short order. We called ahead to arrange for a "Border Facilitator" to meet us. This fellow had helped me clear our vehicle across the border when we visited the seminary in Matongo, Kenya. This time, though, we had a fully-laden truck and were not applying for a transit pass for the vehicle but a temporary export and import pass for the vehicle. It took a while - almost 2 hours altogether - but our Border Facilitator worked wonders. At one point the Kenya Revenue Authority agent came out and wanted to know what we were carrying in our (obviously) overloaded truck. I told him it was all personal used household goods and that we were moving to Kenya. He asked to take a look. So I opened the back window for him. I had placed obvious household stuff just at the back there - like a laundry basket, buckets, and some dirty clothes. I offered him to dig through but I think the dirty clothes assured him that we were on the up-and-up. He said it would have been good if we had an inventory of the contents of the truck - which, of course, Krista had very thoughtfully put together while she was packing so we'd know what was in each box. So he took our inventory and disappeared again with our Border Facilitator. It wasn't long after that before we were on our way. Total cost: $10 for our facilitator, $100 for a temporary import license, $160 for internationally valid 3rd party insurance, and $0 in "consideration" for border officials in need of encouragement.

~ David and Shauen safely in Karen with all our stuff ~ The rest of our trip was wonderfully uneventful. We passed plenty of police checkpoints but weren't stopped at any of them. We made it to Nairobi before sundown and successfully found the East Africa Field Office for LCMS World Mission after only a few missed turns. Home at last, just about 12 hours after starting out in the morning. The next day we unloaded the truck into a spare office and shortly after that David set out on his journey by bus back to Uganda.

So we have safely arrived at our new home. We'll only actually be here for about 40 days over the next 8 months. But it'll be home for sure by January. Praise the Lord for a safe and uneventful move!  -Shauen

Superbowl!

You may recall that last year we threw a superbowl party well after the Superbowl.  That's 'cause we have to wait for a good friend of mine to mail us the Superbowl on DVD. This year we received the disc a little earlier than last year AND my friend was able to capture not only the Superbowl itself but also the pre-game show, the post-game show, the half-time show, and ALL the commercials (we all know the commercials are the most important part of the Superbowl anyway).

So today, just 3 days before we move to Kenya, we threw an awesome Superbowl party. We encouraged the Americans who were attending to bring a "Superbowl side-dish" while we ordered pizza for the main course. That's right - pizza delivery! There are three places in Kampala that deliver pizza and two of them are less than a mile from us. A 15inch pizza is around $7. So we ordered 5 pizzas to start.  There was also brownies, chips, cookies, chicken wings, and plenty of drinks. We had more guests than expected and about half-way through the Superbowl I called the pizza place again to place my same order for another 5 pizzas and I also asked if they could deliver some drinks. A good Superbowl party needs beer and we only had a few bottles which ran out pretty quickly. So the pizza place also delivered a dozen cold beers. The delivery "charge" is $1 total.

Watching the Superbowl with our Ugandan friends is fun - there's so much to explain! Then, of course, we have to explain all the commercials and why this or that is really funny. And we have to explain how much it costs to run a commercial during the Superbowl - a figure that is beyond comprehension for Americans and Ugandans alike. This was a great last-bash for some of our friends here and we sent people home with all kinds of stuff we didn't want to move to Nairobi. I wonder what it'll be like next year in Karen. -Shauen

After a year of basketball...

Every Tuesday night I get together with somewhere between 9 and 16 friends for basketball over at Heritage International School. We're mostly white folk from America but there is fair representation from all over the globe. We often begin our two hours of full-court basketball with prayer and have never had an injury on the patchy concrete court - at least not the weeks I've been there. So wouldn't ya know it...

This week was my very last week to play basketball with these friends here in Uganda and as I'm running back up the court during our second game of the night I trip over my own feet somehow and hear that dreaded sound, "POP." As one friend puts it, "Usually POP means STOP." Somehow the top of my foot seems to be in contact with the cement and the sole of my shoe is pointed skyward. My momentum carries me limping off the end of the court and I can tell this funny dull ache in my ankle is going to grow in intensity - and quickly. I call a buddy to come step in for me and I sit down on the side of the court. My ankle hurts more. I lay down in the grass. My ankle hurts more. For about five minutes the pain grows in intensity and I think of how embarrassed I'll be if I pass out, so to save face I try to look as nonchalant as possible - I'm just hangin' out, leaning on my elbow, here in the grass...

~ My swollen ankle with a pretty bruise ~ Well, as quickly as the pain came on, it abated. And although I did feel little twinges of discomfort, there was no pain to speak of when I walked (or ran) on it straight. So I played the rest of the night - not quite as intensely, of course. It wasn't until I got home that I could see a bit of swelling and a very nice bruise taking shape below my ankle bone. Krista quickly suggested an anti-inflammatory, elevation, and ice, which I have dutifully followed. Today the swelling is considerably better but the bruise remains. There are still little twinges here and there but overall no worse than the day I twisted it (but not much better either). Of all the weeks to twist my ankle, I twist it the week I'll be carrying boxes up and down stairs, loading and reloading the truck, and moving to Kenya. Hmph. Not very convenient if I may say so. On the other hand, it's quite minor, and for that I am exceedingly thankful.  -Shauen