White As Milk

So today, I'm feeling as white as milk (thanks Momma Webb for the terminology). And it's not because it's a week into June and I'm still more pasty pale than my other friends. Or that I'm sitting on the equator and haven't managed to get toasty brown. In fact, the only dark spots I have are the ones still remaining on my arm from the oil spill of 2011 (reference yesterday's blog). Judging from that you should know that it is Kristen typing. 

Let me start at the beginning as to why I'm feeling so white…

Today, my Ugandan brother, Richard (pastor, orphanage school principal and Community Health Outreach coordinator at FIMRC's clinic), invited us to his school for orphans to do some health education with them. We met Richard in the village near our guesthouse (Kikholo) which has a market every Monday. Lyndsay took a photo of me sitting in a town of very dark Africans (one of these things if not like the other) running around with matoke bundles and live chickens. The market is very busy and there are a TON of people everywhere. Richard was able to locate us by skin color alone. We took a Matatu to the village Richard's school is in.

At the school, we meet the other teachers and then meet the nursery school kids. They were like bees to the hive. I felt like I was being swarmed. Or that I was Kate Middleton. The kids kept coming up and stroking my skin as if it would somehow feel different than their own. They wanted to hold hands; our fingers intertwined gave off the design of zebra print. In drastic contrast to their darkest black skin, mine shone vibrant white. Just like kids everywhere, they wanted to be noticed, to be acknowledged, and to be recognized. The 3 of us didn't have enough hugs, high fives or tickles to go around.

We did actually get down to business and do some work. Our presentation to the primary school kids was very receptive. We talked about basic hygiene and made them demonstrate how to wash their hands (while singing the ABC song, of course!). One of the kids asked what to do if they didn't have a toothbrush or soap. Wow. I don't know a child in America that doesn't have at least a bar of soap. The kids sang for us, they smiled wide grins. 

We sat in the teacher's office and over a couple bottles of Mountain Dew, I had a serious "this is why you are here" moment. Richard explained how these orphans have nothing. Most of their parents just drink all day long (something we witness in Bushika), so he provides them with other families to live with (like a foster family). Except that those families don't always treat the orphan in the right way- letting all the other kids eat first, spending money on clothing for everyone else, etc. Richard provides an education and escape for these children but he often can't give them a lunch during the day. You don't understand relying entirely on God's provision until you are literally praying for rice for lunches, chalkboard slates for the students, or a small salary for your one licensed school teacher. We prayed just that with Richard. He is starting to build a new building- but the funds run dry. Again, more prayers for provision. It takes faith that moves mountains. 

Richard is an amazing man of God- one that I'm already honored to call a friend and "brother". He is changing lives. He has big dreams but inspires the kids to have bigger. There is no money, there is little government support, there aren't opportunities here. Hope is the only thing Africa has. Richard is a beacon of hope in a country that has so little.

The 3 of us aren't here to save or heal the world. We alone can not manage that. We cant even reach an entire district of Uganda. If I do nothing else with my time here, I want it to be making a preschooler smile, recognizing a kid on the street or inspiring a little bit of hope to a middle school girl. We change the world one person at a time. That's being uncommon