Of Bibles & Bore Holes, Pt I

While we were eating chocolate mint ice cream last night, Andrea asked me if I'd written in my journal every day like she'd suggested, and I was thankful that yes, I had. (Last year I regretted not following her good advice.) Almost every day, at least. So between that and pictures and about a hundred things I didn't write down, there's enough material for a lot of blogging about Karamoja if I can make myself go a bit more slowy ("wadyo, wadyo").

Thursday, April 20th

After lunch (rice, beans, and cabbage) Amy and Rachel set off on the piki (motor bike) to teach a Bible story were Bob was drilling a bore hole. He forgot to tell them he wouldn't be there, though. So they came back and Craig told them he thought Bob had gone to Namalu. Martha said to take the van, so the three of us set out and found this other bore hill outside of Namalu. There were no children watching the work, but Amy asked one of the older men if we could go into the ere. He took us to his own home and gathered in his wife and kids for akilip (prayers). I didn't understand much of the conversations, because Amy and Rachel's Karamojong has gotten pretty good so they don't need a translator. Amy had just come up with the idea of photocopying the story from the Catholic Karamojong story Bible and sticking it on the back of the story picture cards, so she or anyone else can use it without a translator. It worked pretty well, and this family seemed very interested. But the whole story and Rachel's prayer afterward was under 10 minutes, because we were fearing we would get stuck on the road if we waited too long. So we dashed back through the mud and in pouring rain; the roads were slippery by that time, but Amy got us out. It was quite nice.

Sitting there in the house (which Amy and Rach say was an unusually nice one), listening to the story of the world's creation while watching rain coming down, seemed like it should have been a somehow profound experience. All I felt, though, was comfortable.

Also I should mention that there was a girl there with elephantitis; it was the first case I'd ever seen. Her feet were very swollen, with large warty-looking sores that the flies were crawling on. She was very serious, not smiling like the other children, but interested in what Amy said. [She looked persevering, I think; not like I might have in her body.]