Passions

Saturday morning, I managed not to tangle myself in the malaria net when I fumbled my jet legs out from underneath me. Each weekend, the volunteers have either Saturday or Sunday free, and Saturday was our day off. We planned to acquaint ourselves some more with the town of “Makerere”, see the markets, craft shop, and head to an evening service at “Watoto Church”.

The volunteers share a common kitchen, and I had found that surprise waiting for me come dinner time, the previous evening. I had managed to safely transfer my food from the cupboard of mice, to another cupboard (hopefully free of mice). There have been occasional spottings of cockroaches, lizards and other small things – nothing I suppose I can't get used to.

In the Matoto - when it was a little less packed!

After grabbing some food, not tainted with any known mice pellets, we headed out to the market. The roads are mainly red dirt, slanting and broken down at either side (and often in the middle as well). Motorbikes frequently pass inches from our elbows, and taxi drivers hop out of “Matoto's”, frequently asking if you would like to jam into the, what looks like, full vehicle and have a ride. “Mzungu, Mzungu! Money money money...”...We knew there would always be a ride if we needed one.

Locals often wanted pictures with us, or of their children

Food stands are in an abundance, often selling the same thing. One local treat is a “Rolex” - two fried eggs in onion and tomato and turned over on “Chipate” - a sort of fried pita. Because a common method of frying Rolexes are on the bottom of flat, metal “stop” signs, there are hardly any stop signs left in Kampala. Any signs still standing, were eventually removed by officials. Might as well take away the temptation and prevent causing thieves  In surprise, Naomi pointed out a turned over stop sign facedown near Central Church, red plate still attached. I'm sure it won't be long before another Rolex stand opens after service.

Fruit salad for 5000 UGX :)

I've found a new passion - African Passion fruit. The outside looks like a round, rotting lime, and the inside looks like green slime, perhaps bile from a baby's stomach with an array of ivory seed. However, the picture painted is nothing like the fruit itself. On tasting them, they were fresh, tangy and full of juice – incredible. At the market, we could get six passion fruits for 1000 UGX. (That is 42 cents Canadian). We loaded up, adding two pineapples in the bundle, for 2500 UGX each (a.k.a 1$ Canadian). Fruit salads would be in abundance.

Watoto Church

That isn't the only passion I found. I experienced my first Ugandan “Watoto” Church service on Saturday night. After adhering to a ride in a Matoto for 42 cents, we were driven the bumpy, weaving few kilometres down the road to church, and probably got there with the lingering scent of a overly crowded taxi. Greeted with a big auditoriam and bright spot lights, we quickly spotted the only three other Mzungu's in a church of hundreds and  took a seat – only to quickly stand again. If the singing, music, clapping and dancing wans't sufficient, there were always the intermittent fog horns to sound along in the celebration. It really was heart warming to see so many passionate hearts for Jesus, all singing to Him, speaking of Him and wanted to celebrate His death and resurrection, that equally gave us all life.

I found myself at a humble state as the speaker talked about God's provision in times of need. He spoke of times when he not only lacked provision for basic living and money, but clothing as well. He encouraged the church to turn and pray for one another – pray that if they are lacking these basic needs to “Seek ye FIRST the kingdom of God...”, looking primarily to God for His provision, as He is a God who wants to supply needs. “But my God will supply all your need, according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:19. The celebration and passion that night was for the God that they were able to see provide for them in times when they couldn't meet basic living needs on their own. A God whom they had seen give “daily bread”, a God many trusted to clothe them the next day, and a God they looked to for a job just so they could earn money to live a basic life.

I couldn't help but think of the over-abundance I had at home. A closet filled with more clothes than I could wear, more food and variety than I could think of or consume, a supply of jobs in my field that I knew wouldn't run low, an incredible family, loving friends...

When the pastor asked us to pray for eachothers needs, I felt I could only humbly thank God for all He has given me and ask that these gifts never overshadow my need for Him and passion for the person of Jesus Christ.