drew brees

A jubilant and tragic feature of this land is that in one instance, you can be amidst breathtaking beauty and silence-inspiring awe, and in the next, you confront horror and disbelief, and circumstances that lend themselves more to sorrow than to laughter or happiness.

The former came at the Nile.

How could I have ever hoped for the tranquility and power that came with rafting the Nile? At times, our raft drifted slowly on, kingfishers and egrets fished nearby, and the villagers washed their clothes on the river bank. THE NILE IS THEIR WASHING MACHINE! We sat on our boats eating pineapples and biscuit crackers as the current slowly pushed us through flat waters. I wonder if everyone thought about the Biblical and historical implications of such waters. There were also times through in which the water wasn't so flat! Over a 30 km stretch, we went through almost 12 rapids, 5 of which i think were class 5's (6 being the greatest). We went down an actual waterfall! we steered through rapids with names like ribcage, 50/50, easy rider, and badplace. then there was chop suey. at the base of a swell in chop suey, i looked up to see 4 feet of water above me, and coming down. the next thing i knew i was in the water, out of the boat, and wondering where i would be when i surfaced. our boat flipped once, we had multiple people fall out on other occasions, and it was exciting each time. as we finished the last rapid of the day, darkness came over the Nile, and as we walked to the trucks, a rain storm hit, adding force to the already unstoppable rapids. the scene 2,000 years earlier probably looked much the same.

then there's the tragedy.

the peace corps held a meeting in kampala in which someone from our communities was supposed to accompany us. we stayed for a few nights in a hotel and the time offered us a chance to get to know these community members a little better. one night, we started talking about the war that has been taking place for the past 22 years. we heard stories i could have never imagined, nor wanted to imagine, and hesitate even to write about. stories of abduction, rape, mutilation, forced cannibalism, and murder in ways no creature, other than man i suppose, would ever consider inflicting on another. as i write this, i question my intentions of recalling these things. sometimes i think people write about things like this to kind of say, "hey, look at what im a part of", in a braggart sort of way (this sounds horrible and yet i think it's true). I hope these aren't my intentions in writing this. i hope my intentions are to pass a message that there are people who are hurting so much and who live in a world invisible and unfathomable to most. i hope my other message is forgiveness, for the people here want to forgive (even writing about the forgiveness of such acts brings me chills). i believe they definitely want to move on. they aren't forgetting what happened, the reminders of lost homes, family members still missing, and mutilated bodies wont allow them, and they are still holding people accountable for their actions, but those whose bodies have been torn and ripped are forgiving. "how?" might be an appropriate question.

so the days go. days of brilliance, days of disgust, days that drift languidly by as our raft in the flat waters, days that come like the chop suey, that throw you, pull you under and leave you wondering where you are.

uhhh, ya

prior to typing this, I first penned it at my home. while writing, i was eating an enormous amount of rice with soy sauce. the reason i was eating so much rice was because i am now on a football team. I went to practice for the first time on monday thinking it would be a leisure time with some underdeveloped soccer being played. i did not bring cleats (boots). prior to arriving at the pitch though, i met the coach who promptly gave me shin guards, socks, and boots. uh oh, what had i gotten into? my skepticism was confirmed when, upon arriving at the pitch, we went through a 60 minute warm up routine in resemblance of a professional club. after the warmup, we began playing a game of keep-away, no goals. two hours later we stopped. i was absolutely gassed and highly considered sticking my face directly under the borehole and pumping water into my mouth. this i thankfully did not do, but i was soar, thirsty, tired, and hungry. so now, i am eating a "hungry man" portion of rice.

the school term ended friday. the girls went home for a 3 week holiday. i guess i don't even know where to begin in reflecting on my first term as a ugandan teacher. maybe the best way is to say that God is amazing and i wish i had done more to help the girls. What an incredible blessing to walk into a classroom with 45 ugandan girls (that is an incredibly small class size for uganda) and hear them say, "good morning, sir", ah, it's beautiful and I don't deserve it. then, when all the girls went home, i though, what if, in 2 years, they go home the same way, and i have done nothing to serve them, or love them, or prepare them for a healthier future? In the Bible it talks about Jesus feeding 5,000 with 5 loaves and 2 fish. but before he fed them, he told the disciples to feed them. he must have known they could not do it themselves. I believe, and I read this somewhere, that JC wanted the disciples to go to a source beyond themselves, mainly, Him. I know I can not help these girls myself, the need is too great, and i am too weak, and yet i haven't been so good at going to the source beyond myself.

most mornings, i get up at 7am, sweep my house (the dust in apac is...thick and prevalent, especially since we haven't seen rain since the Bush administration (that is not a political preference or point of attack, just a simile)). I sweep only my house. most ugandans sweep also their compound, clearing away the leaves, dust, and debris., but i do not. I don't because either my neighbor, Dorkus, does it, or this old man (moozai) named john who is a Karimojong (warrior tribe in northern Uganda). John is pretty much money. "Hey moozai, kop ango?" "Ko pe" (hey old man, what news? No news).

i think i may go raft the nile river tomorrow with some other PC volunteers. the last time i was rafting was down an Oregon river with two brothers on an inflatable air mattress. the nile should probably be fairly similar.

word to your mother.