Uganda is beyond beautiful. Words and pictures can’t even begin to describe its beauty. I’m surrounded by luscious green hills and fields, children’s laughter, and bright smiles. Don’t let me fool you though- it’s been quite an adventure. We arrived Wednesday morning into Entebbe where we met Fred, the founder of Hope Care Child Program. He drove us into Kampala and dropped us off at a hotel to rest. That was a surprise. We originally planned on going straight to the orphanage, but we soon learned that surprises were just something to get use to. The hotel was quite the experience. The next morning we left at 6 to make the journey to the orphanage. It was interesting to drive through the different towns and villages. After four hours of driving, Fred told us that there would be no electricity or running water as we turned onto the dirt road towards HCCP.
After dropping off our stuff in our room, we heard the kids playing outside, so we quickly found our rain boots and jackets and went to play. They were shy at first, but then began surrounding us. One little girl, Benita- I’ll probably mention her quite a bit- ran to me and buried her face in my skirt. Since then, it’s hard to say that I’m not in love with her. You can’t help but smile when you look at her even when she pouts. She’ll stand in front of me, hold my hands, and lean back into my legs. She looks me straight in the eyes and speaks to me in Luganda (I’m slowly learning most of what she tells me is silly things like the swing set or the yellow bead she found in the grass). She eats and breaks everything. Today I caught her putting rocks in her mouth, and she even considered trying chalk. She is adorable, and every morning I look forward to seeing her.
When we arrived, Fred told us the well is broken which is where they normally get their water. Since there is no well, that means we cannot shower and the kids must walk a half hour to the river to fetch water. Yesterday Kristin and I decided to walk with the kids and carry a jerry can ourselves. It was extremely hard. The kids run to the river, so they can swim. I didn’t know this and ended up running with them. Once I got there, they begged me to swim, but I used my better judgment (or maybe my mom’s judgment) and declined. After the short swim, they begin the journey back. It was painful. My arms and legs were burning. By the time we reached the orphanage after taking plenty of breaks, we were drenched in sweat and out of breath. Little kids half my size were carrying huge cans on their heads. It amazes me that they do this everyday and how strong they are. Today they asked for us to go with them again, so we did but decided to pass on the jerry cans. However, only a few minutes into the walk back, Kristin and I both had jerry cans in our hands. Neither of us felt right about holding a hand of a nine year old while she struggled to carry this can of water. Today’s walk was a lot easier. I kept thinking about Benita, Ruth, Favour, and other little kids back at HCCP who relied on these older kids to bring water everyday.
Tonight was our first night staying up past seven. We went to sit with the kids on the porch while they had dinner, which is what we do for breakfast and lunch. By this time, it was dark out. We used our headlamps to give them some light, and the house-mom moved the girls inside. They all just sat on the floor in the dark eating poscho and beans. After awhile, I saw Benita get up, leave her bowl on the ground, and go into the other room. She passed by me determined. She came back a few minutes later with a rag in her hands and began cleaning the floor around her- she must have spilled. Tears came to my eyes as I watched this four year old in the middle of a dark room cleaning. I don’t know how to describe it. I tucked her into bed and held her hand until she fell asleep. As I was about to leave, one of the older girls came over, undressed her, and put Sarah next to her. I know that is normal here and not a bad thing at all, but seeing them sleeping curled up naked on this small bed together made me cry. This is where I am. In the middle of the jungle in Uganda- in God’s midst.
