8-27-09
We went to Kampala today after we received our Rwanda Orientation. It was about a 45min trip into the city where we got off at the main mall (Garden City). I exchanged $20 at the ForEx, then $100.00 (200,000 shillings) at the ATM (which I later found out was $120.00; you were right Dad, about not getting money from the ATM’s, but everybody else was doing it and I am a sucker for peer pressure, as you know).
After Kampala we stopped by traditional burial grounds for all the Buganda Kings (Buganda is the largest and most powerful/influential tribe in Uganda, making 20% of the total population). The huts were made of grass roofs, bamboo structure, and big wooden supports. We also got a chance to play on some drums they had opened in one of the huts. They were handmade and looked ancient, and about five of us were in there banging away on all the different kinds to find the coolest noises and deepest tones for about 15min. We somehow didn’t get too much attention and left without anyone saying a word.

8-28-09
There are things going on in my mind, and actions that I want to copy and mimic, but I don’t know how to label them. Are they good? Are the bad? It is information tethered to real life, physical stimuli, and grounded in one context. I trust that various reactions and actions will be better revealed with time and mistakes make, but for now it is a slow process of no labeling and mislabeling.
Maybe my hope to connect with my family, experience culture shock, learn what it is like to live and connect with another people and worldview, and be more aware of myself, God, and the world is my expectation that I can’t expect to be met. How is it that when we focus on the things we want the most they are never further away? Perhaps the exception is the kingdom of God; nothing is worthy to be focused upon or put forward as a first thing. God is bigger and worthy to be sought after; Not agriculture, family, cross, cultural experience, culture shock, or revelation through travel or change of worldview. To release these is to be free, to be joyful, to be in love with God and his kingdom; nothing else matters.

8-29-09
We woke up at 4:30 to leave by 5am for Rwanda. It was the last night of a weeklong worship retreat at UCU, and they were blaring music from 7:30pm to 3am as the final all night ending. I woke up at 12am to go back to the quarters to grab my earplugs. Never have I been so annoyed with worship music. Lord forgive me.
This quick trip to the IMME quarters is no as simple as it sounds. I have the keys to get back into the room on my keychain along with the keys needed to open the padlock to the quarters. The lock is on the other side or a metal door with a hole just big enough for both hands to fit in to grab the lock on the other side. There are two rooms, two doors, and two different locks to the quarters, so getting the right key is a guess to begin with. Then, fumbling around blindly with the keys, hoping I’d aligned the right key correctly with the padlock, both hands awkwardly squeezed inside the hole and aware that were I to drop the keys I’d be locked out of the quarters and the dorms and forced to knock on the windows to wake up my roommates, I began to realize how good of a story I was on the brink of. I did manage to open the lock and grab my earplugs and get another few hours of sleep before our long drive to Rwanda.
We have a 15hr. estimated ride today in a van with minimal leg room, thousands of potholes, and exhaust that would choke a chain smoker. Angela also found a bug in the wheat bread we bought the other day and saved it for me to decide if I wanted to waste it or not. I saw the glass half full and hope the bug didn’t lay any eggs, finishing it off before lunch.
We filled the estimated 15hrs. I had very little to no leg room and had to stretch out my leg to the front seat right next to the driver’s shifting hand every so often. We both knew it was awkward, but every hour that passed pushed courtesy out the window. The roads were horrible and went on for miles, and bread and peanut butter were my only comfort. Pot holes and monstrous unmarked speed bumps plagued every minute and had everyone bracing for impact whenever the van slowed suddenly. Our van was shaking and banging constantly. One girl whammed her head against the ceiling. The worst was the exhaust from other vehicles, especially the bigger vehicles. There are very different pollution regulations here, so cars and trucks cans spew whatever they want to the poor suckers behind them. You can see the smog over the cities and towns as you come into them. Using a damp shammy and a bandana I covered my mouth like a bandit as a filter I was able to clean some of the air. After about an hour the bandana was dirty with red dust and black pollution.
We made it to Rwanda though!