Hello Goodbye

It seems like it was just a few days ago that I said hello for the first time to my Ugandan host family and now today was the day that I had to say goodbye. But I pray that todays goodbye was not goodbye forever.

At the end of the journal that NCU friends filled with encouraging notes and gave to me before leaving for Africa,Bethany quotes the words of her mission's Coordinator in Spain upon her last week abroad:

"The end is always better than the begining, because something has to come to an end in order for something new to begin."
-Julie Ann Brandt

This morning we leave for Rwanda at 5am. It is 3 am right now...no sleep today. But 16 hours of sitting in a bus will allow for some good down time.






Today while holding Dorcus for the last time, I whispered to her, "Dorcus, can you promise me that you will never forget me?" and as the little parrot that she is, she whispered back in the same tone, "Yah". I was then able to leave in peace knowing that she will remember me. Yet,then again, when walking back from church one day,with her riding on my shoulders, I asked her if she would like a big piece of my grandma's apple pie and scoop vanilla ice cream when we arrived home and she gave the same answer :P. Hmm pie and Goodbyes...pretty much on the same level.

Dorcus, there is no way that I could forget you.



The last day at home in Uganda started off well as i got a morning call from my REAL American :P mom and dad. Parents voices are of course always so soothing, but there is nothing like hearing them when in a whole world away. And My mom got to speak to my Ugandan mom :). Bitter sweet day. I am excited to come home, but also love it here so much that its hard to leave...and it only feels like we are counting down the days til the semester is officially over. :(


My Ugandan parents both went off to work so it was a fun hang out day with the siblings and eat matoke for breakfast, lunch and dinner as it was the last time that I was going to eat my mama's matoke, which is sooo good and better than any matoke I have had in Uganda. Probably because its fresh.

As my REAL siblings say, "Fresh from a chickens butt" when selling our chicken eggs, I would say that my mama's matoke is literally "Fresh from the plantain trees outside outside our back door." :)



As I leave...I can only pray that I can come back :).

What are you called to do?

We are faced with so many pressures to figure out what we are called to do in life. “What do you feel called to do?” we are asked. What will you do in your life? “I don’t know. I don’t know!” I always scream inside of myself. I just got out of an elective course called “Calling” as one of our last classes in Uganda :(. But it was literally one of the most eye opening to me.

I feel like this whole semester’s theme of learning for me has consisted of redefining my idea of what it means to follow God’s call in your life.

We read scriptures from Exodus 2:23; Judges 6 and 7; 1 Kings 18 and 19; Jonah 1; And Mark 2:13-17. These focused on Moses, Gideon, Elijah, and Jonah.


After reading each passage we were asked which one we identified with the most. After all responding, we were then asked how come we feel as if we could choose from the 4 main characters when there were thousands of people within each passage?


The big thing that has been revealed to me is that a lot of times we are often so quick to raise our hands to a big radical calling to go overseas and serve God full time, but if God were to call us to a season of something simple, like work at a small café for a season and faithfully love the people around us in that environment, would we still be so quick to raise our hands in obedience to this?


I honestly don’t know if I would be…Before coming to Africa, I saw myself working full time overseas and definitely wouldn’t mind living in a mud hut…but with new understanding on calling and a new definition of missions, my insight and pressure to “Find God’s call upon my life has changed.”


How hard is it really to “miss” God’s call? Jonah ran away, Moses doubted, Elijah felt too weak, Gideon needed many signs , …yet God still fulfilled his will within each of them. And personally, when faced with a season of deciding whether I was supposed to continue school or do YWAM and I chose YWAM, God still was able to turn my heart around in His direction of school…which thus led me to an awesome semester in Uganda :).

So would it be safe to say that a lot of times we are more afraid of obeying and trusting in God rather than missing His direct call for us?


We are simply called to follow God in the surrendering of our control and abandonment of self.


God’s call doesn’t ultimately focus on a calling to a certain time or place… but rather how we spend our time in between our calling to go.


The term “being called” to here or there has been tossed around so much. Yes, people are called to go places, however it leaves those who have not “felt called” to feel like less of a Christian. This then puts the pressure on Christians to “find their call” and take life in their own hands so they don’t sound dumb when asked what their calling is and can’t give a specific answer.



*Jesus calls us to love Him with all our hearts, minds, and souls, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. How am I doing this well in my everyday life?


As one of my many weaknesses has been spending a great deal of time worrying about my future, and how God was going to effectively use me, it has literally strangled me and kept me from life both in America, and at times in Africa. And currently as my major is quite broad as its Global Studies, I have no idea what I am going to do for my future…


As to worry literally means to strangle, I have realized that this is not the life that God wants of me and it must be daily surrendered so that I might not fall back into it as I so easily do. The following quote by Camp in the book called Mere Discipleship has helped me in my “efforts” to practice the surrendering of my will:


"Submit yourself to God…Life in Christ does not mean a white-knuckled determination to “do the right thing.” Very often “doing the right thing” flows neither from a love of God nor from a desire to see the will of God made manifest, but from a desire to exalt ourselves before God and humankind. “Doing the right thing” may flow more from fear than love-fear of shame, rejection, or abandonment, or fear of reprisal from the rebellious principalities and powers of the world. But prayer undercuts this desire for control of others, control of ourselves, and control of what others and God think of us." –Page 175

"In their desire for a “better country,” they did not yield to the temptation to be “effective” at all costs, to do “Whatever is necessary” to “make things come out right.” And because of such faith, “God is not ashamed to be called their God”-Hebrews 11:16 (Page 168)


As I am finishing up the semester, my prayer is that I can return to America and live this out.

Rafting and Jumping the Nile :)

This past weekend most of the USP clan all headed to Jinja to raft on the Nile rapids and bungee jump into the Nile waters.

It was great! The water was like bath water, so you weren't freezing everytime you jumped or got tossed in... The clouds against the bright blue sky were unreal, the sunburns on our faces and super white legs (due to wearing skirts all semester) are just now starting to blister :P... The rapids were extreme, I got caught under the boat a couple times, and there was even complementary beer at the end!! OH BOY WHAT A DAY!

The next morning was bungee jumping! I woke up, took a look at the 144 ft jump...and debated whether or not it was worth the 55 bucks...Long story short, I jumped! It was one of the most amazing feelings I have experienced in a long time :). I wasn't really that nervous. Standing on the edge..and not being able to touch the bar above me that kept you from falling too soon kind of worked my nerves up a bit though. I kept looking down at the Nile, and the guy kept saying, ok, you can stop looking down now. haha. It went as fast as a count to three from the worker guy, and a leap out into the air with out stretched arms. Free falling went by soo fast before I hit the water and was pulled back up. When you come back up you swing over the water for a bit before some rafters below pull you down and unhook you. It makes you feel as if you are a hostage being taken into custody :P. I would definately do it again.



Before jumping you sit in this seat at the tower where they wrap a towel around both of your feet, and binding them together through wraping the rope around the towel. I was thinking...sweet, a towel and rope is what will be keeping me from dying :P.




Wahoo for being short and not able to touch the bar :P




Oh...and we didnt drink the beer for those who were wondering. :P

Walking in whose shoes?

She asked me for help with her school fees. $150,000 shillings…about 75 dollars… I can’t give her money. She was crying, overwhelmed, and afraid that she wouldn’t be able to get the finances to go to school. The very thing that she had been waiting in anticipation for, as it took weeks for her test results to come in letting her know if she was accepted and what level she was eligible for. Now hearing the news that she was accepted, finances were now an issue.


When was the last time that I lost it out of hopelessness of $75.00? When have I felt helpless in a similar situation? I don’t think I really have… If I became broke, I know that I will always be able to call upon my parents or a close friend for a little help or loan. I don’t know what it’s like. I don’t know what it’s like to be faced with such responsibility as her parents were broke and struggling leaving her with no one to lean upon.


Why, when I hear an African asking for money, I only hear a needy cry? How come I only hear? How come it doesn’t lead me to compassion, but to only walk faster away from the begging with an assumption that they are only asking me because I am a ‘mzungu’ (rich white person)? How come I can’t really see? Because of the scales on my eyes I don’t see the tears behind the eyes flowing from a real broken heart… I don’t see the real reason why she was fighting them back hard… trying to remain strong.


A couple years ago I was at the place you go to get your license renewed (don’t remember the name) and I didn’t have the right amount of money for the license renewing. Long story short, I didn’t have enough gas in my car to drive all the way home, grab a dollar that I was short, and all the way back to the license place. And for just a dollar seemed ridiculous. So because of this, I decided to ask some of the people around me if they could spare me some change. At first I thought people wouldn’t mind handing off their loose change…especially it only being a dollar that I needed. However, I was wrong. Walking around the parking lot asking a few people sitting in their cars if they had a little bit of loose change to spare instantly aroused different emotions within me. The way they looked at me, and the tone of their voices as they told me no made me instantly feel looked down upon. And it didn’t help to have the ones who overheard me asking quickly roll up their windows to save themselves from this “little begger”. At that moment I so badly wanted to just explain myself. I wanted to shout out, “Hey, look I am not poor and I am usually not one to ask people like this…but this is my situation…” I wanted them to see me as an equal to them, who was just in a sticky situation. But no. I was humiliated and brought to tears when I ended up having to walk to a nearby thrift shop and ask the lady at the front desk for the dollar. If you wanted to know, I did end up getting the dollar… it just took a few seconds of crying and then fumbling over the words, “Mam, …um…this is my situation..and…can I pleeaassee borrow a dollar?” She smiled at me, got me some tissues and then compassionately handed me over the dollar. (The best dollar received in my life :)).

Being reminded of how I felt that day, I am reminded of what my friend Nester must have felt. When I was treated as “one of those beggers”, and looked upon as an object rather than Megan Hall with a real story and a real sticky situation I felt the realness of it. How did Nester feel today? The humiliation in the need to ask for help, and to talk to a counselor about not having the finances. Could she have felt the same way and I missed it? Forgive me God for looking at her as an object like the people in the cars looked down upon me. Forgive me for not really seeing her tears, feeling her pain and actually putting myself in her shoes. I have tasted what that feels like. Probably only in the smallest amount…but I remember how not fun and uncomfortable it was. And if I really am not allowed to give her any money as a USP student…How can I adequately say, “How can I be praying for you?”


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The above thoughts and events ties in pretty adequately with the material we have been reading out of our current book titled Compassion by Henri Nouwen. Although the first 3 chapters that we have read line up with the topic of having compassion and living in solidarity with others, specifically what happened reminds me of what Nouwen writes on page 29:

“When we begin to see God, the source of all our comfort and consolation, in the center of servanthood, compassion becomes much more than doing good for unfortunate people. Radical servanthood, as the encounter with the compassionate God, takes us beyond the distinctions between wealth and poverty, success and failure, fortune and bad luck.”

The label “Unfortunate people” reminded me how my first reaction to Nester asking me for money was viewing her as an object and as much as I wouldn’t want to be quick to admit it, another needy African asking a mzungu for money. In class today, I was reminded further of how white people are viewed in Africa and the reason behind Ugandans asking whites for money for school fees. Mark Bartels quoted:

“10% of school children are sponsored by some white in the states or even elsewhere, so why wouldn’t they be drawn to ask you for money? They are “magically” receiving funds from the west and only know that a stranger white person who has money is providing the funds.”

Hopefully I don’t just take what happened today, and the remembrance of how I actually felt in the same situation and leave it as an experience. Is it possible to allow it to change my perception of people not just in Uganda but with people back home as well? With this question on mind, I am also learning that compassion is living in solidarity with others, and constantly putting yourself in others shoes. Nouwen would say that you can’t have compassion without community as all of chapter 4 is dedicated to this convincing point. Through this experience, I am reminded that compassion isn’t solving ones problems, but treating others how I would want to be treated, living in solidarity with others, and being moved to hearing them out and simply being present on an equal level vs. some sort of hierarchy level of greater power than others.


Henri J. M. Nouwen. Compassion A Reflection on the Christian LIfe. (2008)

Mark Bartels in Faith and Action class. (3/15/10) Class discussion on Compassion book chapter 4.

Finally a blog!

“Its Sunday and we are driving back from rural homestays. I loved this week. I wish it was longer. The people. The joy. The greetings in Kupsabin (their language)> Chikaste Yesu! (Praise God!)/ Takwenyo! (How are you?)/ Yeko (Im fine)/ Eee (yes)/Kei-tabon! (Thank you) Kai-tabon Keyoshi (thank you for cooking)J. Even the fresh cows milk tea…it bubbling over my host mom’s kitchen fire as she scoops it up with the cup and pours it back in to mix it.) It was good and soothing. The walks through the matoke trees. The long runs while dodging cows. My room. Journaling by a lantern. Laughing. Learning. My host mom and dad’s joy. Making funny faces with my host sister Karen while sitting at the table in our smoky, little kitchen while waiting for supper as she didn’t know any English as was our best way of communication. Karen falling asleep waiting for supper…Visiting the schools. The view. The round huts. The sound in the distance: Babies crying, people hoeing in the fields, birds chirping, roosters crowing, silence. No electricity. Brighter than bright stars…I pray that until God leads me back, it will all stay so vivid in my mind.”- Journal entry on the way back to Mukono.

About a couple of weeks ago, all USP students got on a bus and headed out on a 5 hour journey, up the hill of Mt. Elgon, for our week long rural home stay in Kapchorwa.

Ever since we have been back I have been wanting to write and share about my experience but every time I would go to start writing …I couldn’t. So much happened in a weeks amount of time, and so much thinking and processing on top of it has left me silent from blogging for a bit.



Where to start…


-I basically fell in love with Kapchorwa. I don’t know if it was Kapchorwa itself or the village part of it, but every aspect of Kapchorwa I loved. The people, the BEAUTIFUL view, the millions of banana trees and leaves, unrealistic trees that grew in artistically appeasing styles: Some had bright pink buds that stood out so distinctively amongst all the green that it was like food for the eyes J Other trees reminded me of the ones off of the Lion King (I miss that movie :P) and others made me want to climb as it appeared as if they grew forever as the branches disappeared into the sky as you followed them to their tops. Over looking Kapchorwa village you could see everything it felt like! Even our house at a distance :)




-The kids were even more camera hungry then the kids in Mukono, which I didn’t mind. Every time the many kids that gathered around our house saw that I had my camera out, they would grab whatever they could find at the moment, chairs, motors for grinding maize and coffee and started dancing. The videos are so hilarious.



-The eyes: Something about the eyes of the children caught my attention. They are so deep and bright and beautiful. And I will never forget their big, joyful smiles with their gap filled pearly white teeth :).

-My host dad is a headmaster of a secondary school and his name is Patrick. I will always remember our conversations each night while waiting for dinner and how his gap filling sentence always consisted of of, ”So…..In America… :P” I had a lot of fun explaining the different types of seafood that we eat, and clamming in particular. It is also believed by them that Americans are only allowed to have 2 children, so they were shocked as I went down my family line of seven :).




-My host mom is a teacher and a primary school and her name is Joy. She literally lives her name out in the way she lives: Joyful in everything she does. One night she offered me more beans, and being so full, I said no thank you...but jokenly she responded by saying, "Megan if you love me you will eat more." haha. We all laughed and agreed that she can't buy my love..and saved me from having to eat more beans :P.


-Can you guess how much my host parents make a DAY teaching?.2 dollars. How much do we make hour even off of minimal wage?



-But yet I discovered something that wasn’t hard to find during my visit. They are soo much richer than I am…Than most Americans. The way they view life, their hospitality, the way they welcome visitors so warmly, and always with tea or passion fruit juice. The joy that they have and the real laughter amongst their tight knit relations to each other in the village caused me to re-examine my life and my priorities... and I still don’t know if it’s even possible to fully unlearn my materialistic lifestyle by truly putting relationships first and live a life of simplicity.




-I really enjoyed being able to dip my feet into the village lifestyle and get a firsthand experience as to what living amongst the matoke leaves is really like. As of now I have a desire to raise my future kids in a lifestyle like this….but that’s a long long ways from now.




-Some of the cool things I got to partake in: Making coffee! (Roasting the beans and all J), Slaughtering a chicken, making a soccer ball out of banana leaves, eating chicken gizzards, standing underneath a huge waterfall, singing and yelling in a cave, being careful not to drown in all the rain at times, getting sunburned, bathing in an outdoor washroom, learning bits of their language (Kupsabin),drinking tea with visitors, drinking more tea, and then drinking some more :P, milking a cow for our tea, visiting Jonathan Beggs and his work place in Kapchorwa, eating the biggest banana I have ever seen or tasted in my life! Trying to carry a jerry can on my head, and playing with the many kids. :)



*This is long…but brief as there is soo much to share. Can’t wait to come back home and share more with stories and pictures!

Worship at Watato and Rural Homestays

*Her cuteness definately makes up for her lack of diapers :P

-So I haven't blogged in a while. These past couple weeks have been crazy.

-Last friday I got to attend an all night prayer and worship time at Watato Church. So much to take in! Ugandans are soo alive when it comes to worshipping. Through dancing, praying as their lives depend on it...pacing (this is where you find a partner, hold their hand and move around the church praying for the topic is called out by the person with the microphone). I met a girl named Happy and got to pace with her :). Some of the things were questionable to me, like speaking in tounges over the microphone without an interpretation...and a lot of emotion.

-There were also a few dances that were fun towards the end that would be considered sunday school worship songs such as The saints go marching down and a Lugandan one that was almost like The Hokey Pokey...but worshiping Jesus lol. I also met a guy who was wearing a Seattle, Wa shirt! I was so stoked that I had to ask him where he got it. I thought maybe he knew someone from there...or visited there... but when I asked, he said he bought it at a shop. Seattle, Wa. shrits for sale in Uganda!! haha. But overall the worship night was a great experience...I was just more exhausted than I have ever felt in my life afterward! After sleeping a good 5 hours on sat. and Sat. night...My body still felt like a cement block on Sunday. I barely did some laundry only to immediately collapse on my bed and sleep throughout the rest of the night without dinner. By Monday I recovered and now full force throwing myself into lots of work we have this week.

-Currently I am reading "A Girl Soldier" which is sooo good. I used to have the hardest time reading books...but here thats like all we do for most of our classes. Read, discuss, and write papers on the books. I am starting to become a book reader :).

-Next week I will not be in access to any internet connection as we will be on our rural homestay trip in Kapchorwa, known as the place of a friend. I am really excited for it. The interns who have been there before said to be ready to spend a lot of time just chillin and talking with your host family. We get to pick a lot of coffee beans :) The view and scenery I guess is the most beautiful land that you could ever imagine looking at, and its very hilly with lots of creatures :).

-Some of the challenges during the homestay will be eating different kinds of foods...and a lot of it...due to a lot of visiting of friends of the family...and sometimes 8 cups of whole milk in one day! And also not being able to run...but I lay this down. Also, another thing is that one of my IMME friends, Amanda, encouraged me as she explained that she doesn't to go into the rural homestay as if it were a challenge to live simply and rural..but to really seek to get to know her family and develop relationship with them and learn their lifestlye. I am encouraged to seek to do the same.

-Its raining today :) I like it because its nice and cool. A good break from the extreme sun and rain means blessings. Many blessings today :P

-Also yesterday I attended a missions seminar taht was about Save the Mothers organization. Dr. Jean Chamberlain lives on campus and has done a lot of work through her organization that she started. Her goal is to eduacate as many people on the importance of safe labor. So many die giving birth.

*4.5 million die of births (mothers/babies) a year
when 2.5 million people die of HIV/AIDS

Check it out : savethemothers.org

I am a Muzungu Runner :)

The ultimate running path.

-Running in Uganda is so different!! I thought I would blog about this love of mine to give you a small glimpse.


-When I first got to Uganda, I asked the USP staff if people run here and where would be the best place. Their response was that not a lot of Ugandans run here and they think that those who do are weird. It makes sense as they said that their reason was the fact that Ugandans don't see the point of "wasting" energy when they could use it for doing productive work.


-But they directed me to the dirt track of the schools. On my first run, 35 hot min. around the track and lots of weird stares directed me to a different location known as Prayer Mountain. This is a road that leads up to the top of a mountain where pastors and people literally get alone with God and pray. Its really beautiful and peaceful! And the top that overlooks all of Mukono town..and Lake Victoria in the distance is sooo gorgeous! ( I have millions of pics that I will bring home to share). :)


- The only thing about Prayer Mountain is that its a mountain... There are a lot of huge hills! And even running up the first one cause’s beads of salty sweat to instantly pour down your face. As one of my fellow American USPer's, Amanda, has put it, "You sweat your body weight". But the joy of reaching the top and the view!! And then the fast down hills and your face now covered in sweat resembling fly tape allows you to catch a few friends and some extra protein if you are breathing hard with an open mouth :P and if you are are lucky you get some salt on top. Maybe even in your eyes :P Mmmmm.
A glimpse of the great view!!

- I have found that the best time to run here is at 5:30pm after classes and when it is just getting cool and a beautiful sunset for the eyes :). And plus since I have to be home and 7pm every night, it give me just enough time to get back, throw on a skirt, grab my books and walk back. (Even though lately I have been thirty min. late each time :S)


-Funny comments from people while running: The kids all yell-Hi Muzungo! followed by, Bye Muzungo!! Muzungo! Muzungo! And the older people give me weird glances..I don't know what they are thinking...I figure that because I am white and running makes me doubly weird. But my Ugandan papa also told me that in Uganda, if you are walking past someone and don't say hi, acknowledging their presence they they think there is something wrong with you. Sooo with running...I pass twice as many people...so I do a lot of pausing my ipod and waving and saying hi. Its good though because their facial expression of ..I don't know what they are thinking...and weird stares...instantly changes to friendly faces of acceptances and hellos :)


-People also have said things like well done! well done! and We support you! Keep going! One person also once said, "Are you ok? How come you are in such a rush?" Lol. Also, the other day some one yelled something that sounded like hot dog! Hot dog! But I don't think that was what they were saying.


- One time I got to the top of the prayer mountain and came across a house. A man was in his garden and he stopped me. He cut down a huge chunk of his jack fruit and held it out to me as a gift. I wasn't sure how I was going to run with it....but jackfruit is SOOOOO goood and I didn't want to be rude by declining his gift..so I accepted it. He wrapped it in banana leaves and tied it up crazy well and I went running down the mountain carrying a chunk of jackfruit and dropped it off at our IMME quarters. My family enjoyed the special treat that night :). You have to try it :)


- Another funny thing. My Ugandan mama has me iron everything! Even my running clothes and pajamas. And this weekend she looked at my dusty running shoes, and told me that every weekend I need to wash them. It takes soo much work! I wanted to fight her on it by telling her that they will just get dirty again...so I would rather not..and that new looking running shoes is actaully not that cool in America...hahaha but decided that I would probably be a better thing to respect what she wanted for the long run. CRAZY! So I am running with perfectly pressed running clothes these days and brandnew looking running shoes. :D


-Also another thing I have learned. DON'T RUN IN COTTON SHORTS!! I only brought one pair of none cotton shorts... and regretting it. I get a good case of "It looks like I wet my pants." :P


- Even more on running. My Ugandan papa once told me, "Megan the one thing I like about you is that you run and exercise." I was still getting to know them so it left me thinking, aw man, thats the only thing? hahaha, I know its not, its just how he worded it. My papa also said that because he is over 40 his doctor told him that he can't have more than 6 teaspoons of sugar a day! I think teaspoons are actually tablespoons...but still...thats like how much I have in one latte! Americans are also known as the 'people of sugar' here. :P Wahooo go us!

-Last night, I had a small fight with my mama. I came home from a long 3 day weekend trip to Luweero and had planned to go running when I had got home. Usually, at home in America, this idea would be normal. I would come home throw on my running shoes, go out for an hour then be back in time for dinner and a shower. However, as I explained that this is what I was going to do...my mama declined my longing to go after three days of not. She said that weekends are family days and since I have been gone, I was going to learn how to make chappattis instead. I was suprised by my reaction to this rejection. I literally had to go in my room and have a chat with God to surrender my will and not have a bad attitude. It ended up being good. I learned how to make a Ugandan food, went to the market and enjoyed other fellowship with my family and was able to go for a wonderfully beautiful...hot morning run :)

* So thats running in Uganda :) In all its BEAUTIFUL. hot. Refreshing after sitting in classes all day...and its A LOT different which makes it FUN. Hopefully I will have more to add as time goes on.

Walking home sunset :)