Part of why my husband and I married is because we both had a desire to serve the poor.  He was pre-medical training and I was a giant fan of medical missions.  We both were followers of Jesus at this point, but for my part, I had ALWAYS wanted to live somewhere poor and help out.  I was interested in Peace Corps, he had been interested in Foreign Service, but now we started the long and arduous journey of medical training to live somewhere underserved.  That was 15 years of hard labor, ha!  So, I would like to begin a series of thoughts on poverty.  It will be incomplete and words are utterly inadequate, but I would like to process some of what we experienced.

First, the undoing.  Year one was an undoing…. We moved to Uganda with another family, actually, my college roommate and her family.  We all came determined to be learners.  We inevitably had so many pre-conceived notions, ideas and thoughts and cultural lenses…. The first year was an undoing.  In two plane rides, we suddenly found ourselves at the bottom of Maslov’s hierarchy of human needs, and it was not pretty at times.  We were so excited and happy to be there.  The husbands had visited, but the wives and children were moving sight unseen.  It was overwhelming.  So different to move to a place and think, what have I done?

We came as westerners used to so many different systems and by and large predictability and stability.  We asked so many questions, but they did not translate and even if people were speaking English and answering, they might mean something totally different.  It was physically, emotionally and spiritually painful and uncomfortable so much of the time.  To try to put down roots and make a life was such a challenge.  Prior to moving there, my husband and I had a strong conviction of living with and listening to the poorest of the poor and to try to help.  Now, we found ourselves weak, useless and unable to figure out what exactly WAS helpful.  My background is cultural anthropology with an interest in  political and social systems.  When we started this journey, we weren’t married and didn’t have children.  I found it incredibly humbling to move with young children and trying to make a life and “help” a people when I needed so much help and made so many mistakes.  What I thought in theory mattered so much, in fact, in reality mattered so little.

Here was our first tour of a university campus.  I was diligently asking questions.  My husband is on the very right, his boss, Dr. Gilbert next, a university professor graciously giving us the tour, me with the pink hat and Leslie with her daughter Julia.  At one point, I asked the great American question, "What do your students go on to do once they graduate?" He said, "I am not sure, not really sure."  I thought that was so odd.  Then I learned that Uganda has 17 % employment rate, 17! The rest are seasonal workers or "unemployed" which means they are subsistence farmers (or peasants as the hospital would write under employment on the intake form).  No wonder he couldn't answer that question.  It's not that Ugandans wouldn't have that cultural value, but for a million and one reasons, that is not the reality.  My mind had to undo what university meant, what degrees mean, what jobs mean and systems because Uganda is a mix of western and traditional and everything in between.

We had to undo food and shopping systems.  Here are the roasted grasshoppers in the market. There is great rejoicing at this time of year!

At the beginning of our time when we were touring and exploring,  we did not find malls, libraries, jumping places or any place young kids meet and make friends.  We had to undo relationship systems and HOW to meet people.  We had to ask new questions because it didn't matter how many resources we had, we could not often access what we needed because we were information poor.  This picture was within the first weeks of moving to our town.  Micah (9), Jesse (10) Emma Shae (6) in the back row and in front Mallory (5), Julia (almost 2), Lucy (5) and Georgia (7)

Our teammate's boss and university assistant principal, giving a lesson with the sugar cane.

I could do a whole photo series called "the view from my window" This has nothing to do with poverty, just hello, we are not in the city any more....other types of undoing

Poverty unmasks the illusion of control.  I discovered that I had a fear of long, skinny boats (I liked the big fat ones). I DID not enjoy these little boats.  Notice my face in contrast with my friend Constance behind me.  She is 8 months pregnant and can't swim.  She is used to being out of control and is at peace.  I am undone...The boats would be an metaphor for me the entire time.

The paradox of a land of paradise and so many challenges for the people who live there.

This photo is of mothers and children in a very remote area.  They are waiting to be seen by the hospital staff and Aaron for vaccines and clinic.  This hospital is utterly amazing. Transportation is always a challenge for the resource poor.

Aaron had to undo many systems he was used to.  Multiple babies in the incubators... he did not miss the paperwork from the U.S.!

School was a major place of undoing.  This was not always due to poverty but due to a Ugandan system of education and pretty harsh discipline that we were not used to.  The school in our first year was very challenging for the kids.  It was a large international boarding school, but a day school for local children.  My son, Micah threw up almost every day, he was so overwhelmed with the change in system. The next photo is my daughter, Mallory in "baby class" It was so cute to hear them singing and such.  My daughter, Emma Shae was in kindergarten.  It was a huge learning curve.  We arrived in August, which is the end of school for Ugandan children.  The next school year would start in February.  We thought it would be better for them to be in a routine and school was familiar.  It was a tough beginning, to say the least.  Our teammates would have been fine to leave them out, but none of us were home schoolers and Aaron and I were adamant about not missing that much school.  We started at this one, but finished at another.  In the west, we see gorgeous pictures of African school children and we are so moved and encouraged.  What you might not know is the effort to get school fees, uniforms, some materials and how long hours are spent at school because people don't have books, but schools do.... we had no idea... and then the effort to get jobs after all that schooling is something I struggle with.