Three Days at Moyo

Early morning at the archdeacon’s compound in Moyo was a magical experience. The peace was palpable. Never mind that there was no electricity, no running water, no tasty food for a western palate. Never mind that we had gone to bed the night before with a headache from the day’s driving on terrible roads and the dehydration of a day spent in the heat. Never mind the rock-like pillows and the need to venture out under the stars (with who knows how many beasties lying in wait) when, despite the dehydration, the need to empty the bladder became irresistible. Stepping out of our grass thatched guest room at 7am and into the morning air was a tonic that lasted all day.

Moyo is in the north eastern corner of the Diocese, 180km from Arua along roads that hardly deserve the name. At one point on the journey we got stuck in cloying mud and were dug out by two local farmers who, barefoot and armed only with hoes, cheerfully rescued us by digging away the mud around the wheels and laying down straw to provide some friction. They were delighted with the UGX1000 (about 30p) we gave them each for their trouble, but they would have done it anyway. For several onlookers we provided the entertainment of the day. But the last few kilometres of the journey reward the persistent traveller with views of rocky mountains and green valleys that in any other country would be a hub of the tourist industry. Here are no tourists, but many humble families living in simple huts growing maize, peanuts, mangoes, cassava, keeping goats and chickens, and bringing up their children as best they can.

We were there to visit Church of Uganda health centres and Archdeaconry Training Centres for pastors and lay readers. Allan had brought along some copies of the ‘Africa Bible Commentary’ donated by supporting churches in UK to hand over to representatives from two of the archdeaconries. Anne was making a first visit to the two remotest health centres in the Diocese. We met with church leaders and health workers who spend their lives in this place with almost no resources to work with. Buildings are basic and sometimes crumbling, equipment is minimal and often not functioning, communication is (to western ideas) impossibly slow and uncertain. Mobile phones are a godsend, when you can afford the airtime. The archdeacon himself lives in a house that might pass for a barn in England, but which was amazingly welcoming. We sat up till past 11pm one night (we are usually tucked up before 10) discussing the nature of evil spirits and related theology with the archdeacon and several local pastors by the light of a solar powered lamp and sitting on chairs that left you with the impression of the slats they were made from on your nether regions. But no matter – who needs comfortable chairs and TV? This was much more stimulating!

Three full days during which we drove 500km and were able to do such a rich diversity of things. We visited a bee project in Yumbe and a luxurious fishing lodge in the middle of nowhere (where we were able to make the most of the western loo it offered!) We crossed the Nile on a ferry that looked ready for the scrap heap and bought a huge, freshly caught catfish which had to be transported back in our vehicle complete with smells, to be eaten that evening. On one journey, dried prunes accompanied by digestive biscuits and water became a surprisingly delicious feast when other food seemed unlikely to materialise. We held impromptu teaching sessions under a tree and in a church, and we prayed with our Ugandan colleagues on every conceivable occasion - at mealtimes, on meeting people, on saying goodbye to people (and in between), on beginning the day and before retiring to bed.

After such a trip we returned to our (seemingly) luxurious home here in Arua feeling amazingly refreshed and encouraged, still with many questions, but more aware of God’s goodness, care and calling than for many weeks.

A Visit from Dr Jo

We had been looking forward to the visit of our daughter, Jo, for some time. We’d not seen her since we left the UK in August, so it was going to be a great reunion. But we also wanted to celebrate her success in her medical finals. In fact, apart from coming to Uganda for 7 weeks to visit her APs (Aged Parents), she was also coming for her medical elective at Hospice Uganda in Kampala, followed by a visit to our home in Kuluva, and to Kuluva Hospital.

It was great to see Jo’s flight land at Entebbe Airport and to greet her in Arrivals. We met her with our welcome notice – ‘Parentius’ Travel Services (a subsidiary of Famile Enterprises) welcome Dr Jo Lacey’. It looked fine and very professional beside all the other hotel and taxi welcome notice-holders. They looked at us slightly warily, wondering perhaps whether Parentius’ Travel Services represented a threat to their continuing business.

A few months earlier, Anne and I had spent a wonderful, peaceful and unwinding couple of days at the Kingfisher Safari Lodge in Jinja, near the Source of the Nile. So we had planned a similar relaxing weekend there at the start of Jo’s visit to us.

As we drove the 80 km from Kampala to Jinja we felt our spirits lightening. It was going to be a good weekend we knew, and certainly Anne and I needed a break. Arriving thus, full of expectation, we discovered to our horror that the Lodge had, to all intents and purposes, been taken over by the Kampala International Church for a Parish Weekend, replete with oodles of children who filled the swimming pool and watched noisy videos late into the evening.

The weekend became a prelude (in the Wagnerian sense) to the next seven weeks as poor Jo witnessed some of her parents’ anxieties and frustrations, and was given the opportunity to practice her counselling skills on them!

Jo had, in any case arrived at a slightly difficult time for us (ref. “Be Prepared for Culture Shock” blog), although we did feel we were now emerging from the truly low point. But whether Jo’s arrival simply reminded us of the life we had left behind (CMS do say that it is inadvisable to have visitors from home in the first year), or we had been overly optimistic in our earlier self-assessment we do not know.

During Jo’s four weeks in Kampala which she enjoyed immensely, Anne and I back in the north, were experiencing increasing frustrations. Most of all, since it transpired that Ringili had no theology students in the new semester, I had no students for the Hermeneutics Module I had been spending long hours re-writing. I wasn’t aware of this until the morning teaching was to begin, and even then nobody at Ringili was able to confirm whether anyone had registered or not. To say I wasn’t happy would be an understatement of cosmic proportions! Anne, too, was experiencing significant stresses and strains at the School of Nursing. These particular events coincided with Jo’s arrival in Kuluva.

In fact, Jo had a really good time at Kuluva Hospital, and was warmly welcomed. She was able to assist in the Theatre, work in the Outpatients Department and in the Nutrition and Medical Wards. She even did some teaching for Anne’s nursing students. But one thing is certain, and that is that she now has no romantic illusions about what it means to work overseas as a Mission Partner.

Together we were able to work through many issues, and Jo proved an able catalyst, facilitator and counsellor in all of this. At the end we went to the Murchison Falls National Park and finally found the rest and refreshment we had been longing for, as well as something of the experience recounted in the later chapters of Job. The challenges remain, but things are moving on, and God remains faithful. Often we don’t understand what he is doing, but listening today online to an ancient sermon on 2 Cor 1.3-11 by Michael Baughen has proved hugely helpful, and without doubt Jo has been part of the ‘comfort’ God has provided for Anne and I over the past few weeks. We thank God for our family and can’t wait to see them all when we return to UK for Jo’s graduation in July.