28 September 2007

Explosions, Yard Work and Jihad

For those of you who are tired of African Theology and Missiology and just want to see the boys and hear a few stories… this one is for you!

For the rest... come back on Monday for more thoughts form out on a limb…

Tuesday morning I take a break from my marathon training… Kampala Marathon, December 9… to spend the morning with the boys sipping milk and watching Little Einstein videos before school. This week was particularly exciting when we heard an explosion in the kitchen and Joseline screaming. My first thought was that her plans to poison me with Chili Powder in my Huevos Rancheros backfired… only to find that our oven exploded while she was baking oatmeal. I have to say I was immediately impressed with the German engineers at Defy who manufactured the stove… when they say 12 month warrantee they mean it… our stove just celebrated its 13 month birthday!


In the evenings Christine and I have been keeping ourselves busy building a fence around the garden to protect it from turkeys, chicken, Noah and Kadin. It was nice to work with my hands out in the yard… for the first few minutes but when I got a callous on my left hand and had it pop within 5 minutes of digging I realized that I spend way to much time typing, reading books and avoiding yard work.




Noah and Kadin have been a huge help during this project hiding tools, trampling plants and figuring out how to use my saws-all… at least now I know how to work it too!



Last evening our neighbors gave us a real treat… showing me how anyone can desire to commit acts of Jihad. It’s Ramadan and our neighbor’s wife just graduated from university… imagine a crowd of hungry Muslims throwing a party on Thursday night in your backyard! I knew it was going to be bad when I came home from work and saw them setting up 2 circus tents, unloading 250 plastic chairs and setting up a sound system comparable to U2’s last outdoor concert. I held out hope that the party would be on Friday… but as I crawled into bed at 8:00 PM… give us a break we have 2 and 3-year old boys… the MC began welcoming the crowd. What I didn’t see earlier in the day was the 40 traditional African drums that would soon be shaking my windows and knocking pictures from the wall. At 9:15 PM I crawled out of bed to see 100 women in head coverings and white robs dancing around the drums while 200 men clapped to the beat of the booming drums.



Being incredibly intelligent Christine and I decided that sleep wasn’t an option… so we went down stairs to watch Gil Grisom and his team crack a few homicide cases in Vegas. But the last straw was at 11:00 PM when the music turned to what sounded like tribal war chants and I was unable to hear Catherine tell Warrick about her disappointment over his recent marriage and Kadin woke up thinking it was morning… so I took my DeWalt 18volt flashlight and marched up to my neighbors house… a white man in running shorts, a Ventura FD shirt and a spotlight is a scary sight at any time of the day but especially at an all Ugandan Muslim graduation party.

I knew I was taking a risk since the LC (Village Mayor), 3 MP’s (Senators) and a really big drummer were in attendance at the party but sometimes a Mizungus got to do what a Mizungus got to do. So I found my neighbor and reminded him that in Uganda it is culturally offensive not to invite your neighbors to your parties. So I congratulated him on his wives graduation and reminded him that Americans view all Muslims as terrorist and that our president has declared Jihad on them all… scratch that last part… I reminded him that it was Thursday and that 100 decibels was more than enough for the party to be heard and enjoyed by all… and for my family to sleep without wondering if the walls of our house are as strong as the walls of Jericho…

By the great mercy of Mohammad the party ended around 11:30 PM… and today Christine and I started planning our next Passover party!

1 comment:

Saila said...

hi there!
thank you for writing the orphanage mail here earlier, it helped me to understand something again. I was on a short term outreach in Poland last April and we went to orphanages too.. somehow I found myself feeling not good, I felt terrible thinking that we are leaving in half an hour and then we well never see again, so I really did not feel like taking contact. I realized that for me that is not the right way of doing it. I am not saying that it is wrong, as you wrote too. That was just my feeling then and now that feeling makes a bit more sense. Bless you and your family!
(I ended up to this blog by accident almost, but I´m happy about it.)