The way of mourning in the village is immediate and public. Bo and I went to send money to the family so they could get public transport to Cherish Uganda for Natasha’s viewing. The viewing was held at the director’s house where she was dressed in a beautiful pink dress and looked so peaceful as if she were simply sleeping and we could say, “get up and join us.” Everyone sat on couches and mats and openly wept. If you have ever seen professional mourners then you can imagine the room. It is surreal to see a dead body in front of you, one that only a few days ago had so much life… all you can do is take comfort she is with Jesus.

The gathering consumes the day, and at night the women sit by the body and talk, sing, pray, sleep, never leaving the coffin, while the men sit by a fire and talk, sing, pray, sleep, etc. No one is ever alone. I stayed up on baby duty because Brent and Leah hadn’t slept in two days. There were a lot of tears during the viewing so we were all tired, and I had the cried-way-too-much headache. 

“Tekle, what should I write for my blog?”

“I don’t know.” Pause, color, pause. ” Say ‘I’m the famous singer, Aubrey Perkins.’ Why do you have to write a blog?”

“To let people back in the states know what’s going on… keep them updated.”

“To let them know you’re still alive?”

“Exactly.”  

The title might imply that I had a near death experience… I didn’t. But lots of things have happened in the last few weeks, and if I were to recap this month with a word it would certainly be “diverse.” First, the diversity in schools from homeschool to Hope Academy (HA) has been a balancing act. HA has been a time of trial-and-error for me as a teacher; first by gathering myself and resources after finding out that I’m teaching grades 4, 5, and 6 with about 20 students in each, then determining what level of education the students are at, and working on a lesson plan in less than a week. We started out learning the elements of art and so far have mastered line, color, space, and texture. Each week the activities are getting more fun and interesting. Next week we are moving onto value where the kids will do their first still-life drawing.

Home schooling with Luke and Tekle is much more structured, and the curriculum repetitive, but it gives us one-on-one time that I miss in the classroom. Monday-Wednesday I teach Tekle from 9-1, have lunch, and then at HA from 2-3:30. Thursday and Friday I’m with Luke from 9-3:30. Hopefully after this first quarter at HA we can change to full work weeks where I teach Tekle one week and Luke the next allowing art lessons to be an after school activity for children who didn’t get the opportunity in other grades. 

The evenings are filled with a plethora of different activities depending on the day. I found my form of relaxation has been cooking, baking, and crocheting… I feel like my gifts are leading me into the home-welcoming committee. In 40 years I’ll be here:

…just kidding (sort of). I simply enjoy the therapeutic time spent by myself while still serving others. To see some of the recipes I’ve conquered, and you can too, go here: http://flavorofhome.tumblr.com/

A few times a week the teachers, workers, and some students from Cherish play football (soccer) on a  pitch Bo, Randy, Alfred, and Moses dug. Sometimes I get up the courage to join them in a scrimmage, but I am AWful… truly, I’m a horrible football player. It just means that when I do something remotely good, like stop the ball withmy foot and not my head, I’m no longer seen as a waste of space. Overall, It has been a great form of exercise and a community builder.

Another form of exercise Bo and I have begun is our morning run. We have only done it twice so far. But our 3K trail is a beautiful sprint through the village wrapping around to the edge ofLake Victoria, and back through the race tracks. The sunrise on the equator brings images of the Lion King to mind running along the water’s edge singing “Nants ingonyama bagithi baba sithi uhm ingonyama” in my head (and yes, I looked up the words to the intro song for the Lion King).

Last week we visited a friend at her home. I saw what the typical Ugandan house in a village looks like: a closet size brick room with dirt floor, enough room for a bed, stove, and a stool. We sat outside on mats as she served us tea consisting of hot milk, tea leaves, ginger, and LOTS of sugar. Her name is Prossy, and she blessed us with accepting Leah and I to her house as friends, her “mukwanos.” The afternoon ended with hugs, kisses and smiles.

More and more I feel as though relationships are forming, friendships are strengthening, and some of the stories are heartbreaking but inspirational. Africa is a hard place but a beautiful place as well… helping me realize my time here isn’t a sprint, it is a marathon. 

Where to start? Other than my updates about Kate and some pictures, I haven’t been very diligent about updating the blog. And for that I’m sorry. I’m sorry, not only because I have lacked in communication with friends and family, but also now I have so much to write about I literally don’t know where to begin.

Today clouds hovered over our house like dragonflies sweeping the floor for morning gnats. At prayers we asked for rain. The village revolves around agriculture, and the arrival of rain is a genuine blessing. The beauty of it is that the first rainfall had appeared on Valentine’s Day when we show appreciation for our lovers, family, and friends. In this way God showed love for us.

Walking to school with the warmth of the damp ground under me I think about the excitement I felt as a kid living in the desert when it rained. The pinch in my stomach could be memories of childhood returning to me, that same joy and comfort evoked by the overcast ambiance, or maybe it’s fear. With the uncertainty of my ability as a teacher and the evident cultural barrier, I find myself fighting against discomfort and doubt on a daily basis.

 Hope Academy is a certified grade school for children that are the “least of the least.” These children have been accepted based on their extreme needs; everything from poverty, domestic abuse, orphaned children, or all of the above. Students have been placed in their grade level based on academic aptitude, and it is not uncommon to see a seventeen year-old in 6^th grade. These are some of my favorite students simply because they have the opportunity and desire to learn and do well.

It has been three weeks since my fist day and I want to write a letter to all of my teachers thanking them for their hard work, patience, and the investment they made in my life. Leadership is not a trait that comes easily to me, and standing in front of 60 students with different backgrounds and levels of English proficiency, I find myself vulnerable with my only defense being art and love. There have been some learning curves to battle… but how incredibly rewarding these three weeks have been.

A month ago I was proud to publish the arrival of Kate Phillips. She is easy to love, and a joy to this house; however, her beginnings were anything but easy. On November 11th, 2011 two boys walking to school heard a baby crying from the swamp below. Finding Kate there they saved her life, and through a multitude of interviews and paperwork the Phillips have brought her home as their new little girl.

Because of her traumatic birth they discovered her larynx had collapsed making it very difficult for her to breathe and generating a raspy wheezing sound. The doctors say she will grow out of this once her larynx strengthens and hopefully, with prayer, sooner than later. With all of that said, she is now three months old, very strong and advancing quickly. Little Kate might be one of the happiest, most expressive babies I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. Thank God for her and the gift she is to this family. I love her and know there are great things in store for her life.

Welcome Kate Kenzie Malaika Phillips ~ 11/11/2011