A Day in Karamoja

Twenty minutes before the sun raises its tenacious head above the horizon a rooster warns the world of its coming. A new day is breaking forth, the rhythms of life set in motion once again. Each new day is slightly mysterious, yet cushioned by the daily tasks that must be accomplished, keeping a tedious balance between the mundane and chaotic. As the sun climbs slowly into the morning sky, the village wakes up around us. Women begin making fires for morning porridge, shepherd boys begin singing to their cows, waking them up and preparing them for the day’s journey to graze. Girls giggle as they get dressed, sweep the compounds and begin to walk to the nearest bore hole to gather water. Soon the air is filled with chatter and squeaking as women pump water from over-used bore holes. Andrea, the guard, slashes grass on the compound; his blade grazes the ground as he attempts to keep snakes and other pesky critters away. A multitude of birds sing through the air, happily chaotic in their celebration of the new day.

By the time the sun reaches through the window in my round rock house many of the villagers have been up for an hour or so before me. I have been listening to the slow awakening around me, but without electricity to brighten the house my motivation to wake up earlier is limited. I went to bed with the light of a flashlight, I would rather wake with the natural light of the sun.

I love the ease with which I can get ready for the day here- pull on a skirt, slather on some sunscreen, add some beads if I’m really feeling fancy and out the door I go. I haven’t looked at myself in a mirror for over a week- freedom. The opinions of others is already confused by the color of my skin, so what does it matter if I hold to the western standard of beauty?

The first order of the day is to make a charcoal fire. We splinter eucalyptus wood into small pieces and burry it in the middle of the sigari (charcoal burner). Once it flares to life, we build a charcoal wall around it heating as many pieces as possible. The smell of smoke is seared into my clothing and hair as I fan the fame to get it red-hot for cooking. If possible, I will keep the charcoal burning all morning. I will start by cooking porridge for breakfast, followed by boiling water for drinking, and then other baking projects (bread can take four hours on the coals). I enjoy experimenting with cooking projects and have found that you can cook a great deal with limited ingredients and no oven.

Personal devotions are enjoyed over a cup of morning coffee and porridge. This is one of the sweetest moments of the day, before the demands come, before language lessons start, before you have to do anything, you can just be. Be with the Lord. Rest in His life-giving words. Journaling prayers, intimate communication with the Savior of my soul. Dealing with heart issues, crying out to Him for direction, for wisdom, for grace. Precious moments with the Lord are never wasted.

I would love to linger there longer, but the day presses forward and so I must join it. Melissa and I pray together and go over the schedule for the day. The routines that give us daily structures are unique, unknown to the rest of the world, protected from the pushing and shoving of the western world, free from the clock that governs the schedules of others. We will clean the compound, do language lessons, help KACHEP with whatever they need (animal health, trainings, spraying events etc.), go out to the villages, share the Word of God through storying, cook food, and when the sun goes down we will entertain ourselves through book studies, conversations, worship, pod-casts or movies. It is simple. But it is consuming.

There are times when I wonder what I accomplished that day- I walked to the market. On the way I greeted the tailor, I spoke with Mama Sarah, stopped by the counselor’s house, shook hands with about fifty people, denied that same number of people the money that they begged from me, chatted with the store clerk, bought my kilo of sugar, my four tomatoes and five onions (all in different locations), amicably argued with the woman over charcoal prices, fought off two marriage proposals and came home. A trip to the market is not really about the kilo of sugar, the four tomatoes and the five onions. It is about community. It is about building relationships. It cannot be factored into a time-oriented society. It just is. And somehow, in the eternal perspective of the Lord, it has value.

If I get caught up in the events, the goals of life (i.e. the quantifiable accomplishments of organizations), I rush over the people, I miss the bigger scheme of community, of relationships, of participating in life with God’s beloved. I miss the joy that I see on their faces when I learn a new word and use it correctly, I miss knowing that the counselor is sick and needs prayer, I miss bringing a smile to the woman who sells tomatoes, I miss life in Karamoja. So I must change from being task-oriented to people-oriented. And in that change, I must remember that it is through these relationships that the kingdom of God can be known. It is through our love and the way that we live our lives that people first experience the presence of God. It is through these relationships that we have the platform to speak God’s truths. And we do need to speak them, because faith comes through hearing and hearing from the Word of God (Rom. 10). So in the schedule of the day, I must carve out time for people, for trips to the market that take an hour.

As evening gives way to night, I make another charcoal fire to cook dinner. The crickets and frogs join in the last chorus of the day and the sun rests once again beyond the horizon. Bright stars splash against the dark sky with awe-inspiring radiance. The village to the east starts a late celebration, dancing and singing with unity and power which echoes over the land. The village to the west sounds an alarm as raiders come in to steal their livestock. Gunshots can be heard as the army comes to intervene. Melissa and I hear these sounds from afar and pray for the villages. Pray that one day the sounds rising from the villages will be that of worship and praise, of celebration in the work that God will do in their lives.

Until that day comes we will continue to live here, faithfully asking God to fill our days with the works and the relationships that He wants us to have; submitting our schedules to God that He may be glorified in the smallest, most inconsequential act to the biggest, most exciting events. God is worthy of it all and He is always at work, even when we don’t see it.

Please pray that God will guide us with His love and wisdom, that we would have grace for each day that He gives us here. Pray that we would value each day and life it to the utmost for His glory and honor, and that each day we live in Karamoja the people would recognize the presence of God in our lives.

Much love,
Summer