Cici

She was blind.



Up front a man is complaining about having to wait for his drink... and the woman behind him complains about having foam on her no foam latte... and the lady in the drive-thru wants a 40 cent refund.

So what do I do? I stop dead in my tracks and I think of Cici.

I think of Cici and my heart drops into my stomach.

She was blind... she is blind.

"Welcome back to America," I think to myself.

She was a school teacher... a good one, and still is a good mother, but her husband beat her so badly that she went blind.

She stumbled out of her tiny little house that day and welcomed us into her home. I sat next to her and I held her hand. "I want to see you," she said, and she grabbed my face. She told me I was beautiful. And then she smiled.

She had no idea... she was the beautiful one. She had dark skin and bright white teeth... long eyelashes and big, thick lips. Her hair was cut short... almost completely shaved. She wore a long, auburn colored dress and her feet were bare... my favorite footwear... especially when in Africa.

I try to figure out how to put 40 cents back on this lady's card, and I think of Cici. I try to understand how this man thinks he is going to have a bad day because he had to wait for his drink, and I think of Cici. I watch as Lindsey removes the slightest bit of foam from this lady's drink, and I think of Cici.

"Welcome back to America," I think to myself... and then I think of Cici.

I want to hold her hand again. I want to carry her daughter on my back. I want to sit next to her while we pray. I want to walk bare foot with her and hang from the tree outside of her house. Mostly, I want to hear her laugh and I want to see her smile.

She has the most beautiful smile. Her husband beat her until she went blind, and yet she has the most beautiful smile. Her tin roof is full of holes that allow the rain to come in and soak up her dirt floor, and yet she has the most beautiful smile. She can never teach again, something that she loved to do, and yet she has the most beautiful smile.

So I'm at work, and I look at this woman in her comfy, air conditioned car, and I glance over at this man in his nice suit with spiffy sunglasses, and I quickly check out the woman who can afford to pay $4 for a cup of coffee, and I wonder... why aren't they smiling?



I wonder... why aren't they smiling? And I think of Cici.

I am torn between wanting to smile and wanting to cry. I want to smile for her, but I want to cry for them.

They have no idea... she is the beautiful one.

I could try to explain to them how beautiful she is, but I know it will do no good. Someone who doesn't have time to wait for a cup of coffee doesn't have time to listen to a good story... especially on a Sunday morning... they might be late for church. So I go about my day, and I wear a smile, and I think of Cici. And I pray that she knows...

she is the beautiful one.

talented

My phone rang at 4:30 this morning.


I thought it was a friend I made while in Africa who had a terrible concept of the time difference, but it wasn't.


Excitement got me up out of the bed. Disappointment set in when I saw the screen.


It was Starbucks... my job. Not only was I disappointed that it wasn't my friend, apparently I was scheduled to open this morning, but I didn't know it.

Double suck.

So... I did the mature thing... I hit ignore and went back to bed. I figured if I didn't actually listen to the message until after my shift was over then I could say "oops, I'm so sorry... I just got the message and I had no idea."

I realize that's a crappy thing to do, especially when you check your message and you realize it's your good friend that you work with asking you to come in, but I some how justified in my mind that I did not need to go into work today... I just got back from Africa!

Yea, 3 days ago, but still... jet lag... hello!

Truth be told... I haven't even had jet lag. I got home late Tuesday night, went right to bed, woke up early Wednesday morning, and I've been on schedule ever since. Jet lag was my excuse... until my confession just now.

So I don't have an excuse for tomorrow... I have been warned that I have to open in the morning, and since I have already outed myself on the jet lag thing, or lack there of, I will go to work, and I will smile, and I will hand out coffee, and I will give back change, and I will pretend like that is exactly where I want to be.

Tomorrow I get to use my talents. Tomorrow I get to act.





I miss Africa.

and we danced

"we're fools whether we dance or not... we might as well dance."

-Confucius

the wall

I feel like I can't breath.

My heart is broken and I feel like I can't breath.

People want me to tell stories about my trip to Africa, but I don't even know how. All I can do is stare at the wall.

I stare at the wall and I think about all I have seen and all I have done, or not done, and all I have experienced. I sit and I think about these things and I just stare. Even as I write this I spend more time staring at the screen than actually typing anything.

I don't know what to say. I don't know where to start. I don't know how to process it all.

Some people try to get other people to understand what they've been through and seen just by explaining all of it, knowing that even that won't do the reality of it justice.

I'm not even going to try.

Why? Because I think sometimes a lack of words speaks volumes... and this is one of those times.

Hear me loud and clear as I say...





















.

dry

I went dry.

We spent a few days in a couple of other towns about 5 hours away from our home in Kampala. Towns that don't have much. People that have nothing.

Non-stop... holding people... hugging people... loving people... non stop.

I went dry.

There comes a time when it gets to be so overwhelming... the disease, the poverty, the orphans, the widows... there's so much... when does it end?

Does it end?

What the hell are we doing here?

Does it even help?

God, I hope so.



I think it does... I think just holding them does something to their souls that no medicine ever could.

I hope so, because we ran out of medicine. So we just held them... people who aren't used to being touched... we just held them.

I went dry.

That night during devotions I cried. "I love loving these people," I said, "but I've only got so much to give... I just want someone to hold me."

I did... I wanted to be held. That day I felt like I had nothing left. I wanted so badly to love some more, but I had nothing left. The last time I was truly held was on a bus ride during team two, when my Ugandan dad, Chris, just held me in his arms while I cried... my first cry of the trip. I've cried a few times since then... but that was the last time I was really held.

And that's when I realized... it's true... being held does something to our souls that no medicine ever could.

And that night we had devotions my team mates hugged me... some even held me.

And today... I held more people. So many children... I just held them... all day. And it wasn't by my own strength that they were held.

I know I should be spiritual and say "it was by God's strength," and I know it was... but He used my team to strengthen me. To leave them out would be to say I don't need them... and I do. I need community. I need to be loved.

And I'm OK with saying I can't do it all on my own.

two

I didn't get to say goodbye.

I was so consumed with getting my ticket changed at the airport that I didn't get to say goodbye... to my team, that is.


Not only did I fall in love with Africa the last 2 weeks, I fell in love with the family I made while being here. The people I came with became my support system, and the very people I shared this new found love with.

I love Africa. But I also love my team... team 2!

I've shared Africa... now here is my team... my family.




This picture reminds me of family reunions when my parents used to dress us kids up and make us sing for the rest of the family... and of course any time we had company over. I apologize if you were ever there for that... but this... this was an amazing experience where team 2 sang Amazing Grace to the church at Namoya. Ricky is the talented guitarist who serenaded us through out the trip with his mad guitar skills. I try not to be jealous, but dang... the kid can play anything... seriously.


Here we are... the white ladies trying to look all African. The women at the church dressed us in their traditional African dress... I felt slightly Chinese, but I went with it. Melody (2nd from left) is the wife and co-founder of GFR, and her daughter, Amber (4th from left) has a beautiful voice to match the guitar skills of her boyfriend, Ricky.

Oh and by the way, yes... we were hot as hell.

Michelle... the other Mzungu (white person) in the picture fell in love with this little girl (with the red socks), Kaden. Both of her parents are gone and she is taken care of by her grandmother. If you ever want to blend in with the locals when you travel, don't travel with Michelle. She'll take pictures of any and everything and is not afraid of looking like a total tourist... but that's what we love about Michelle... after all, it has gotten us some amazing pictures.

Ahh.. Jaimie... my boda boda buddy. One of the main ways people get around here is on a "boda," which is basically a Ugandan version/combination of a motorcycle and a taxi. They are pretty dangerous... which of course means I am going to ride one... and what I love about Jaimie is that of course she is going to ride one too. This was on one of our adventures around Kampala. You know how there are people you just "click" with? Jaimie is one of those people. She has an amazing story... one that I will let her tell, but one that definitely needs to be told... she is an amazing woman.
I couldn't find a picture of Kaitlin's face, but she is the long haired Mzungu. She loves kids, and man do they love her hair. They have never seen anything like it. Some people even ask if it is real... I'm sure you can see why as most of the kids have the same style haircut... slightly bald... but very appropriate for the weather... HOT.And then there was Kharm (middle)... and Idah. Kharm is our amazing beyond amazing cook. She is famous for her chapati and her big hugs... ones that are followed by "how are you, my dear?" And Idah... where do I start? She is the country director for GFR. We call her "mommie," a well deserved title, as she takes such good care of us and the people of Uganda. It is very rare to find a woman like Idah who spends so much of her time invested in the lives of others less fortunate, which in Africa is pretty much all of the time.
Jerome. I could just tell you he is the accountant and move on, but he is so much more than that. He is like the black brother I never had... probably because I never had a black brother... but if I did... He would be it. Jerome has a sweet spirit, a good laugh, and knows how to give an encouraging word. He too loves the people of Uganda, and his heart is huge... bigger than his head (just kidding, Jerome).
Oh Renata... the risky one getting her hair done by one of the locals. Renata made me feel at home as soon as I walked off the plane. She yelled my name and grabbed me in her arms and just held me. I love such greetings... especially from ones that I love... and I love Renata. I knew Renata before the trip... mainly because she is on the prayer team at church and I go up for prayer every week... not because I am super spiritual, but because I have that many issues. The awesome thing... she not only still prays with me... she still talks to me. Dang I love this woman.

HOLLYWOOD! This is Fred, a.k.a. Hollywood. He already had the nickname by the time we got here from team 1, but he continued to live up to his name on our trip... he loves the camera, and he pretty much knows everybody. Fred and I bonded after discovering we were twins separated at birth... we both share the exact same birthday... August 18th, 1983. The nurse was color blind.

Our yard chicken. The sad thing is, we never named him... or her. We just took advantage of him... or her by throwing him/her up in the air and watching him/her attempt to fly back down to the ground. Sounds cruel, I know... but it's kinda like with cats how they always land on their feet... chickens do the same thing. No animals were harmed in the activities that took place in the yard. However... the chicken that Fred got a hold of is a different story... apparently it tasted pretty good.

Mike, in the middle with the ball, is the son of Ben and Melody. Funny kid who suffered from some major diarrhea... but he's doing well now, right Mike? Yea, see... thumbs up! And of course Luke and Gene... one of my favorite couples on the trip... and by couple I mean father and son... if you can't already tell. Luke was the youngest guy on our trip and he was amazing. The kids just loved him... and the girls... they flocked to him. They would play with his blond hair and say that they loved him... watch out American ladies, you got some competition. Gene... I remember meeting him at the first team meeting. He talked about how he liked to have everything scheduled and planned and organized... pretty much the opposite of me... and of Africa... I wondered how we'd get along. Long story short... Gene was awesome. He sang on the bus and danced like a total white guy. It was pretty much amazing! Africa loved him... so did team 2!

Taylor. She actually came from Kansas with another couple, and even though I didn't know her very well, I somehow saw Taylor grow up on this trip. I know that sounds weird, but I remember first meeting her and thinking she was a cute girl... but by the time we left she was this beautiful woman (I know, I hate using the word "woman," it seems awkward), but seriously it was like something changed in her. Seeing her interact with the kids and wave to all the people as we drove past, you could just tell God was doing something in her heart. Hold onto that, Taylor... whatever He did... hold onto that!

Last, but not least... this is mom and dad... at least in Uganda. You can call them Chris and Debbie, but I call them mom and pop. Chris and Debbie are the couple from Kansas that Taylor joined on our trip. I had no idea who they were prior to Uganda... now... they are family. I don't know if I can even put my finger on it other than I just took to them... and they to me. Everyone knew I was Chris' long lost daughter on our first bus ride when we both discovered our love for singing... and our inability to stop doing it... even when asked. They were also my go to when I ran out of money... just like most moms and dads... except they actually gave it to me... and I actually paid them back. My favorite memory is on a drive home we were doing devotions on the bus. Everyone was talking about what we were going to do when we got back home and how we were going to apply what we learned. I was quiet, so naturally I got called out. I couldn't even speak. I didn't want to go home. I didn't even want to think about it. I started thinking about all the people and the children I had come across and I just started crying. The bus sat silent and everyone looked at me. Chris grabbed me in his arms and just held me... tight... none of this flimsy pat on the back stuff, I mean he really held me, the way a dad holds his daughter... and I just cried. All over his shirt, I cried. For quite a while, I sat next to this couple, this couple who I didn't even know 2 weeks ago, and I just let them hold me. Thank you mom and dad! I love you!

There are 2 more I couldn't find pictures of, but seeing as they are Ugandan, and I will be here for 2 more weeks, I will be sure to post their pictures... Bosco and Daphne. Bosco has the biggest smile you have ever seen in your life. I sometimes wonder if he has a banana in his mouth. He also works for GFR and is one of the happiest people I have ever met. Daphne is Kharm's assistant in the kitchen, and she is wonderful! She cried the day team 2 left... I can't say I blame her. She is quiet, but always has a smile to share and a hug to offer. We love her too!




And so... this was my team. My team whom I have grown to love and will miss tremendously. I stayed in Africa, and they have left, but I will never forget our time here. A new team is coming and everything will start all over from introductions to new roommates, but I will never forget my team.

Goodbye team 2! I will see you in two weeks! And for y'all out in Kansas, I'll be around soon to visit... so leave the light on for me!

T.I.A.

This.

Is.

Africa.

...with the sugar.

Dad...

I met a man in Africa... and he's wonderful, and brilliant, and we're getting married...




They call him Billy...

He's the real reason I couldn't leave. Before you say no, hear me out...

we both have a heart for Africa, he's got a great job cutting grass, and we both have the same interest in food...

How soon can you be here?